Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
EVIE
Placing a hand over his heart, I try to soothe his pain. "What happened wasn't your fault." I watch another tear silently trail down his cheek, and my heart breaks even more. Maddox Wilder is a man torn apart. As much as his grief consumes him, his guilt keeps him imprisoned, preventing him from moving forward.
How could I have so easily misjudged him? Wanting to offer him a fraction of the comfort he's provided me, I sit on the edge of the couch and gently pull him to sit between my legs on the floor. After he sits down, I pull him back, dropping his arms over my legs, reveling in the heavy feel of him. I take his glasses and set them on the coffee table.
"Ev—"
"Shh." My hands rub up and down his arms and shoulders, massaging his neck. I continue to do this until I feel some tension leave his body, and even then, I don't stop.
"You've had me at war with myself for months," I tell him honestly. "I couldn't understand how I could be so afraid of you and yet drawn to you all at once. At first, your size scared me; then, it was all that anger you carry. It reminded me so much of his, I couldn't see past it and simply see you." I give Maddox the raw truth, ashamed that I ever compared him to that monster to begin with.
"Then I started to see you in all the little moments we've shared together. Every time you touch me, all I feel is peace, Maddox. You center me, and that's what has scares me most about you." I still my movements and lean close to whisper in his ear, "My heart knew you were the one that was going to flip my world inside out, but my heads had a hard time catching up." I take a breath and enjoy the gentle way he's been caressing the outside of my calves.
"Evie—"
"Shh, let me help you carry this," I hush him, letting my hands resume gliding along his olive skin.
I don't remember going to sleep, but a tiny elbow to the ribs suddenly wakes me. Charlie and I are on the couch, covered up, and he's sound asleep on my side, stuck between the couch and myself. I sit up, looking to see what mischief Bash has gotten into.
"Sebastian!"
"In here fixin' dinner, mama!" he calls from the kitchen.
"Lord help me, Sebastian James, if that dog has a bowl of cereal!" I untangle myself from the tiny tornado on the couch and skid to a stop when I see Maddox, Vic, and Bash all in the kitchen. Vic and Maddox are working on the dishwasher while Bash stands on a chair at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
"What’s going on?"
“Evie Lynn Taylor, why didn’t you tell me the dishwasher stopped working? Two weeks ago, no less," Vic scolds .
I quickly look at the ground and avoid the acquisitioning gaze Vic is casting at me. "I forgot."
"No, you didn't, mama. You said you'd have Trip Waller look at it, and then Charlie said he wasn't coming in this house, or he'd kick his balls in his throat. Then you and Charlie had that evil stare-down, and we were late for school. Yet Again."
Little traitor! I think as he admiringly stirs whatever is in the pot.
"I said I'd kick his balls so far up his throat he'd cough for weeks," Charlie says from the doorway of the kitchen, yawning. I mean, that is what he said.
"Thank you for that, Vic. My children have the most colorful vocabulary now," I say sarcastically as possible.
"Why'd he threaten the man's balls like that?" Maddox asks Vic.
"Charlie overheard him saying a few things about his number one girl in the diner and asked me what they meant. I told him the next person to say things about his mama like that deserved a good kick in the balls."
"I can respect that." Maddox winks at me.
"Speaking of things, how are your little fellas doing? Heard she put them through a good shock." I can't help but laugh at the way Maddox cuts his eyes at the older man.
I beam at Vic. "He peed himself."
Maddox sits up so fast he bangs his head on the dishwasher door. "You little liar!"
Vic laughs and pats Maddox's arm. "Sure, she is."
I find myself smiling at my phone a few days later.
You’re a heathen, you know that?
Me? Are you sure you have the right person?
Ever since you *lied* to Vic, the man stops and chuckles every time I see him. Cupping his balls, no less.
Whoops! And yuck! He's like a father to me. Can we not talk about his balls?
I agree that's weird. He's pushing ninety, and you know he probably must tuck them in his pocket.
A visual I could have lived my whole life without.
I had a good time the other night.
Me too, Big Guy.
After the dishwasher was fixed, we all ate dinner together, which was delicious. Maddox and Bash made chili, and I was impressed. I figured the guy lived off chicken breast and protein powder. Before he left, I said a quiet thank you and kissed him goodnight.
I know how hard it was for him to open up to me, and I was grateful he had, but there were things about me I hadn't shared. Things that I never thought I'd have to share because I could never see myself being with a person in that capacity. I was happy with my vibrator until Maddox came along.
Comfortable with living the rest of my life never having a member of the opposite sex touch me, then I found myself wishing Maddox would touch me. I want him to run those big hands all over my body, see if my breasts fit in his hands. As soon as I find myself in knots at the thought of him, I seek to take the edge off, and then my fingers find my scars and my desire instantly vanishes, and shame heavily sits in its place.
What would he think of me if he saw the bite marks that covered my skin? Would he see me the same after? Knowing what Trent did to me? It’s something I just don’t think I can ever risk. Just as Trent had intended, these scars still hold me captive, controlling me and I let them.
I don't go to the gym on Monday and ignore Maddox's texts and calls over the next two days. I feel like an idiot. Here I am, thinking I’ve overcome so much and am leaving the past where it belongs. But the minute I think about Maddox seeing all of me, everything goes back to square one again.
Am I being rational? No. I know damn good and well, these scars hold no power over me. Only the power I give them, yet here I am, giving them power over me. Letting fear dictate my life yet again making me feel more worthless than ever. Fear of having him see me for who I am, fear of being seen as the pathetic thing I was. I had spent so long hiding that part of myself and what had been done, that the thought of him knowing the truth is too much. It’s like having a bright light directed at me, after having spent so long in the darkness. I’m afraid to be exposed and stripped down.
My phone rings, and I silence the call. I’m not ready to face him yet. Rather than face any of this right now, I want to wallow in my self-inflicted torment for a little longer. After tucking the boys in for bed, I decide to take a nice long shower and wash the invisible grime of the past off my body. Turning the water on, I strip my clothes off, avoiding the mirror, not needing to see the self-pity of my own reflection.
My body relaxes as soon as I step into the hot shower. The thought of Maddox wanders through my mind as I wash my hair. My nipples tighten at the thought of him shirtless in those damn shorts that show off a peek of his powerful thighs. Damn, I really like those shorts.
I cup my breast, giving my sensitive nipples a slight pinch .
Keeping one hand on my breast, I run the other down my body, stopping the second my fingers brush the jagged edge of raised skin. I take a deep breath and push forward until I reach my slick center. Good thing I'm in the shower because I'm soaked at just the thought of the grumpy bastard shirtless and sweaty. I affectionately give my clit the attention it desperately seeks before shoving a finger deep into my greedy center. I close my eyes, imagining Maddox is in here. Purring good girl in my ear in that gravely vicious voice of his and driving me wild with his hands and mouth. His name leaves my lips as I bring myself closer to the edge.
"Jesus Christ."
My eyes snap open to find the star of my wet dream gazing back at me with an intensity that seems to consume every part of me.