Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Max
Her eyes close again, and her hands squeeze mine. “I’m sorry it slipped. It’s just that hearing you speak Spanish reminded me of those times. I know we haven’t talked about names yet.”
Her eyes flutter open, glazed with a faraway look. “No, don’t worry about it—” She pauses, swallows. “It’s just that sometimes flashbacks ambush me. What you said. It echoed in my mother’s voice. The last thing she ever told me. I haven’t been called that name in so long.”
“How often are you getting flashbacks?”
She averts her gaze. “Every day. Sometimes it’s something small, almost like déjà vu. It’s just such a weird place to be. You know?”
I wrap her in my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I know, baby.” I see the confusion in her head every day. My chest tightens with sorrow, and I don’t know how to help her. “At night, you have nightmares. What are they about?”
“A lot of shit.” Her voice muffles against my chest.
I want her to elaborate because some nights she moans as if she’s in pain, then some nights she cries, calling for her parents, and I’m sure it’s her biological parents.
What cracks in my chest is when she calls my name.
“Max, are you okay? Oh, Max, I’m sorry.” I know what she’s dreaming of.
It’s during those times when Jason would beat the hell out of me for protecting her.
I tried everything to keep her innocence.
She didn’t know what was out in this corrupt world we live in.
It makes you wonder why they place kids in homes where foster parents are abusive, pedophiles, and just evil.
It took me a long time to realize we were just a number in the system.
When Rainey found out I was being hit for protecting her, she felt guilty.
She had said, “It’s okay, Max, I’ll sit next to him.
” She was so sheltered that she didn’t understand what he would do to her.
I had to explain it to her. Kids are innocent and don’t deserve to be mistreated.
One minute, we have it all, and the next, it shatters.
Sol—God, I don’t even know what name to say. She didn’t deserve this life.
“I hear you at night. They are not pleasant dreams, are they?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I step back to wipe her tears and have her look me in the eye. “Why haven’t you been honest with me?” I ask.
She sniffles, and Daisy gives me another growl. “I just…” She sighs. “I don’t know how to talk about it. Honestly, I’m tired, mentally drained.”
I won’t pressure her to talk, but I know she feels that if she ignores and doesn’t talk about it, it will all disappear. I’ve done that, ignored every truth, every lie, and every ounce of pain that ripped through my soul. It took losing Rainey for me to become who I needed to be for both of us.
“Remember when I said after every storm, a rainbow follows?”
“I do.”
“Then allow me to be your rainbow, your anchor. Let me ease your pain. I can’t do it, corazón, if you don’t let me in. We may have been living two different lives, but we were cut from the same cloth. I can’t pressure you to talk to me, but just know I’m here. I know you better than anyone.”
Her smile is gentle, easing the pressure that suffocates my lungs.
“That you do, champ. You know me better than anyone.” The soft caresses of her lips brush mine.
“Thank you, I just need time. It’s only been two-and-a-half weeks since I’ve been out of the hospital, and I’m still trying to find myself. ”
“I understand it’s a new transition. I just don’t want you to shut me out.”
“I won’t.” She utters those words in a whisper.
All I hope for is that her words speak the truth from within.
“Then let’s start our first class.”
Rainey’s hands rest on her knees as she bends slightly to catch her breath.
We started working on being mindful of her surroundings and identifying threats.
Next, we worked on how she needs to set her mindset on not allowing herself to be a victim.
Finally, we worked on her stance and taught her how to punch and block.
She’s good and a fast learner. A little at a time.
“Good job, you’re doing well. Let’s go for another round.”
She steadies her breathing and straightens. “I’m out of shape.”
“You’re perfect,” I insist.
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you would say that. You’re sweet as honey, babe.”
I throw a punch that she barely blocks. “Lost focus. Too busy flirting,” I muse with a grin.
“Whatever. I’m not going to be flirting with my enemy.” She scoffs, going for a hit at my gut.
“Get in your stance as I showed you. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands up, protecting your face.”
She follows, lifting her fists uncertainly.
“Breathe, amor. The fight is in your head, not your arms. Focus on me.” I circle her, feinting left, then lunging right.
Her forearm slams against mine with a sharp crack, her eyes narrowed to slits.
Perfect. Each block tells me she’s learning—her body remembering what her mind hasn’t processed yet.
Her gloved fist connects with my ribs—once, twice—then pounds my sternum before returning to hammer at the same spot on my side.
Rainey’s chest heaves, sweat soaking into her white tank top.
Tomorrow, I plan to teach her kicks and going for the face.
The timer for our drill stopped beeping two minutes ago.
She keeps coming, each punch punctuated by a small grunt, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts. I absorb each hit, steady on my feet.
“Asshole.”
She’s definitely using me to release anger. Who she’s talking about is probably Rowan. Another hit to the face. We dance around the ring.
“I want normal,” she shouts, and I block the punch.
She either wants to kill me or fuck me. The sweat around her nipples under her white tank top gives me the visual that has me wetting my lips. I’m so focused on her tits, I don’t see the punch to my shoulder.
“Fuck,” I groan. How is this small woman hitting like she wants to demolish me?
“Pay attention, cabrón.”
“Whoa, someone is getting feisty.” With my forearm, I wipe the sheen of sweat. “Give it to me, baby. Show me what you’ve got.” Damn, does she look sexy. Sweat drips down her face, giving her a glow that only she would look stunning in.
“Oh, I’ll give it to you.”
She delivers a punch to my ribs… I’d rather give it to her right in the ass—
“Damn, what steroids have you been taking?” Each blow lands with increasing force—too much pent-up anger. For some reason, it seems Rainey is directing her anger toward me.
“It’s called sex-deprived, you ass. It has me going feral when my man won’t touch me.”
I hook my ankle behind hers, twist my hip, and pull. Her eyes widen as her weight shifts backward. She lands with a soft thud, a puff of air escaping her lips. I tumble after, catching myself with outstretched hands that find the warm curve where her waist meets the floor without crushing her.
My nose skims her cheekbone. “Sex deprived?” I whisper. Never in my life would I have thought I’d hear those words from my woman. I lick at her pulse, racing. “Feral, huh? You want your man’s hands all over you?” With my thumb, I rub around her pebbled nipple.
She moans my name, and that’s music to my ears.
“You don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting to touch you, to feel every curve.” I lift to stare into her eyes.
“Why haven’t you then?”
“Sunshine, you haven’t been well. Your body has healed, but you’re still delicate.” Goosebumps spread as I nibble on her neck.
“I’m sweaty.”
“That’s fine. I like you sweaty.”
“I don’t want to be treated like a delicate doll. I want normal, and you’re not treating me like it.”
She’s right, I have been treating her like a glass doll, but the truth is, she is delicate. Anything I say or do can cause a flashback, good or bad. I know I need to normalize it as much as possible to help her.
“Done, I’ll give you normal.” I lift her shirt.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice she wasn’t wearing a bra before.
Rainey squirms when I pinch her pointed nipple.
“You want your man’s hands and tongue all over you?
Done.” The tip of my tongue traces her swollen breasts, then I suck on each one.
“Next, there’s no way in hell I’d have my girl sexually frustrated.
” My arms slide under her body. With a gentle force, I tumble to my back, bringing her to straddle me.
I strip her bare, the fabric of her shorts whispering against her skin as it falls away.
Then I slide her to kiss between her thighs, tasting salt and sweetness.
I live for every moment—the flush spreading across her chest, the flutter of her eyelids, the small sounds caught in her throat as she unravels at my touch.
Her back arches like a bow. Her breathing picks up until each inhale is a gasp, each exhale a plea.
My tongue flickers inside her sensitive spots.
A laugh leaves me as she yanks at my hair, pushing my head deeper.
“More!” she cries out.
I can feel how close she is, and before I can tell her to come, she slides off me.
“Take off your shorts,” she demands.
“Be my guest. Strip me.”
Within seconds, she has me naked in the ring.
Well, damn, I never thought teaching her self-defense would lead to us fucking.
Rainey reaches for my dick, then strokes from the base to the tip.
I prepare myself for her lips wrapping around it, but in a flash, she’s on me, sliding me in her.
She’s so tight and fits perfectly. She’s a gorgeous woman.
I don’t mean just her body, but everything about her.
She’s strong, resilient, and a warrior in my eyes, although she doesn’t see that in herself just yet.
I do. I see everything about her, and I know every part of her.