28. Max
CHAPTER 28
MAX
T his is the second time I’ve woken up to Caine not in bed, and it throws me off because he would usually be the last one to leave before. I know something’s wrong, and he mentioned how shitty his day was while we were in the shower, but then distracted me so well I wasn’t able to follow up with him.
Now that he’s not here again, I want to see if he’s somewhere else in Adam’s house, or if he left again.
I can’t deny that if he left I’ll be disappointed. Because it doesn’t matter that I claim not to like his obsession with me, the reality is that I do. He knows it, and I know it, even though I’ll never admit it. I’ve slowly become obsessed with all three of them.
I leave the bedroom, and don’t see Caine when I go out to the living room. The house is silent, I start to think he really did leave until I check the garage and see him punching the heavy bag that Adam has set up.
I lean against the doorframe watching him, waiting for him to notice me. As he continues to throw measured punches, I appreciate the muscles that cover his bare torso. They bulge even more with each hit, and I appreciate the physique of the man in front of me.
“I know you’re watching,” he says without breaking his pace.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
He finishes his set, using his teeth to undo the Velcro wraps on his hands. I’ve seen him do it before a couple times at the gym. That, plus him flicking his weight lifting belt off are the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed.
“No, but you should be sleeping,” he says, stepping closer to me.
“So should you.”
“I was.”
He tosses the wraps to the side, and tries to crowd me, but I don’t move. “Something’s wrong,” I state, because it’s not a question with how he’s been acting.
He clenches his jaw but doesn’t bother denying it.
I place my hand on his chest, feeling him flex under my touch as I trace a path to the defined muscles on his abdomen. “Tell me.” He doesn’t say anything, and when I look up at him I can see the internal battle. I run my nails along his stomach, stopping at his waistband. “Please?”
He sighs, his eyes not leaving mine. “I don’t like talking about this shit.”
“I know.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“I know.”
“You don’t need to worry.”
“I know.”
He clenches his jaw; I watch the muscles in it tick as he does. With an annoyed sigh, he takes my hand in his, pulling me into the living room and sitting on the couch, pulling me onto his lap so my back is to his chest. He bands his arm around my chest, and I wiggle around, but he tightens his grip.
“Stop moving or I’ll fuck you like this instead of telling you anything.”
I stop instantly. He grunts like he’s displeased, but I want to hear anything he’ll tell me about what’s going on.
“My dad showed up with my brother.” His deep voice is even lower. My jaw drops and I try to turn around.
“Wha—” He grips me harder to cut me off and stop me from moving.
“They heard about your asshole ex, and wondered if I had anything to do with it.”
“You didn’t,” I state firmly. It doesn’t matter how involved he, Drew, Adam, and Danner made themselves. Technically if it came down to it, I’m the one that killed him and I would never snitch on any of them.
He huffs before continuing, “They only cared about protecting their precious reputation. It has nothing to do with me and I told him to fuck off. So he cut me off.”
“Wait.” I fight his hold, really wanting to look back at him, but he keeps me with my back to him. “What do you mean he cut you off?”
He hesitates before continuing again, “I had use of my trust fund before. My parents hated me coming out here and pursuing fighting, but I don’t give a fuck. I was never going to become a lawyer like my dad. I was just biding my time until I made it and wouldn’t need them anymore.”
It’s quiet and I’m not really sure what to say. Finally, I decide on, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I don’t give a shit. I don’t need his money.”
I nod, understanding in so many ways. I don’t need my family’s money either. It’s never worth it when you’re so unhappy. You shouldn’t have to have a relationship with your family just because you share blood. If someone makes you miserable then they don’t deserve to be in your life.
I understand that more than anyone.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“I have to find a cheaper place to live. The house is in his name and I want to get out before he kicks me out.”
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from offering something I probably shouldn’t. Not that they’ve even let me go back to my house, but maybe if Caine was living there it would make them—and me—feel better.
I’m not sure I can even handle living there, but I don’t want Carson to ruin yet another thing in my life. I used to love dancing, but he ruined it with the way he demanded it, forced me in more ways than one.
I just want to live with as much freedom as possible, so I open my mouth and say, “You should just move your stuff into my house.”
He chuckles. “How’d you know that was my plan all along, killer.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. “Take the cameras out of there first.”
“No way, not after what happened.”
“Does that mean I can go back?”
“If I’m with you, then yeah. I don’t know how Adam or Drew are going to feel about it, but if you want to, then it should be up to you anyway.”
I’m a little surprised to hear him say that. Neither of us say anything, and we just sit here with him holding me. Eventually, I sink into his embrace so it’s less like I’m being held hostage. He ends up laying us on the couch, keeping his arms around me and I don’t even notice when I drift off to sleep again.
Too bad my sleep is anything from peaceful as I’m plagued with the nightmares again. This time it’s about the moment I took Carson’s life, like it’s on repeat over and over in my mind. If Caine’s dad heard about it and was sniffing around and that creep Officer Doogie was as well, word is getting out. I’m worried it’s only a matter of time before it’s tied back to me in some way.
Which is why I need to enjoy the time of freedom I have left.