Chapter Twenty-Eight
Knives to The Gut
Maximo
“ S HE LIED TO me.”
“About?”
Pacing the balcony, I ran my hand through my hair. “Something else happened with that motherfucker.”
“She almost got kidnapped,” Marco said. “She’s scared shitless, roughed up, and in pain. It makes sense she’s freaked.”
“This is my fault.” Guilt clawed at me like knives to the gut. “I stopped to check on the tournament without her because she was bored yesterday. If I’d have gone right to her, that bastard wouldn’t have been able to get his fucking hands on her.”
“This isn’t on—”
“I’m supposed to take care of her. I’m supposed to keep her safe. But someone came after my woman on my property. And he almost got her.”
“Boss, get it under control,” Marco cautioned. “You go in there looking ready to murder someone, and you’re gonna scare her more. This isn’t about you. It’s not about your guilt or Ash’s guilt or even Carmichael right now. It’s about her.”
Fuck, he was right. I was being a prick, making it about me while she sat alone.
Dragging my palm down my face, I pushed aside my anger to focus. “Find out what they’ve got on the security footage.”
“Miles is combing through it. He said the drunks claimed they were paid to make a scene and mess with Ash as a prank, but neither can describe the guy beyond the wad of cash he gave them.”
Idiots.
“Ask around to see who Carmichael has been leeching on to,” I said.
“Ash is already hunting. Doubt he’ll sleep until it’s done.”
“That bad?”
Marco gave a half shrug. “You know how he is.”
I did.
Fuck.
I’d have to deal with that, but nothing I said would mean jack-shit until we found Carmichael. It could wait.
Juliet couldn’t.
“Make sure he doesn’t lose his head when he finds him,” I said.
If left unchecked, it was likely Ash would take Carmichael out. I needed information first. Then I wanted his blood to stain my hands.
Marco lifted his chin. “Where do you want him when we find him?”
“Meat plant.”
At that, he gave me a rare smile.
“If it’s not about this, I’m unreachable for the next week,” I said. “I don’t give a shit if the buildings are burning down, someone else can deal with it.”
“Got it, boss.”
I opened the door to get back to Juliet.
Still huddled on the couch and staring straight ahead, she looked tiny. Scared. She didn’t move until Marco came in after me and closed the door.
Jolting, her wide eyes snapped to me before tracking Marco as he walked to the elevator. When he was gone, she dropped her gaze to her hands.
Christ.
I’m going to kill that motherfucker.
Locking it down, I crouched in front of her. “Ready to go home?”
She hesitated, and fuck if that didn’t gut me. After a few stretching moments, she finally nodded.
I lifted her, and her legs automatically wrapped around my waist. She tried to drop them, but I lowered one of my hands to her thigh, holding it in place.
When we got into the elevator, she said, “I can stand.”
“I know that.”
“I can also walk.”
“Know that, too.”
“So put me down,” she ordered.
“No.”
I was relieved to hear the attitude and fire return. “You can’t just say no.”
“I can and I did.”
“Control freak,” she muttered, though her lips tipped up.
“Brat.”
Whatever hint of lightness she’d had was gone in an instant. She may as well have been one of the statues downstairs with as stiff as she became.
“Put me down, please,” she tried.
“No.”
Averting her dull eyes, her voice was just as emotionless. “It’s hurting my knees.”
I didn’t believe her, but I wouldn’t risk it. I lowered her to her feet, and she immediately took a couple small steps away.
If her hesitating had gutted me, her putting distance between us fucking killed .
I wanted to pull her to me so I could reassure both of us she was safe and that I had her. But I didn’t do it because, right then, I didn’t have her. She was a million miles away.
We didn’t talk on the drive home. Juliet stayed pressed against her door, as far from me as she could get without being outside. Her feet were on the seat, her arms hugging her bent legs.
Christ, my little dove looks lost.
When we got home, she climbed out before I even put the SUV in park. I followed her up the path and unlocked the door. By the time I’d turned off the alarm, she was already at the top of the stairs.
I followed her again.
She had me so wrapped up, so obsessed, so addicted, I’d have followed her anywhere.
I turned down the hall, and as expected, she was in her sewing room. But rather than sitting at her desk, she was standing and staring at the large dove picture.
“You need to rest,” I told her.
Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. “Can I do it by the pool?”
I nodded.
She approached, her eyes to the side as she waited for me to move out of the doorway so she could pass. Reaching out, I touched her loose ponytail.
And she flinched.
Fucking flinched .
I blanked my expression even as everything inside me was being eviscerated.
Either directly or by order, I had a lot of blood on my hands. I’d beaten. I’d killed. I’d tortured.
But nothing I’d done would come close to what I’d do to Mugsy Carmichael once we found him.
As badly as I wanted to take her in my arms, I moved to the side. “Go get changed.”
Without a word, she took off toward our room.
And I watched her go, my gut telling me I was fucking up by giving her space.
Rather than following, I went to find Vera. When I found her in the laundry room, I asked, “How’d you like a week off?”
Her face lit, but it wasn’t for herself. “You’re taking time off?”
“The week.”
“Good. You need it.” She pointed up. “So does she.”
Even more after what happened today.
I didn’t share that because if Vera found out, there was no way she’d leave Juliet.
“When?” she asked.
“Right now.”
Vera’s eyes widened before narrowing with suspicion. “Why so soon?”
“I need some time with Juliet,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. “I’ll get you a room at Nebula, everything on me.”
Her eyes went huge. “No, that’s—”
“I sprung this on you. Go home and pack. It’ll be set when you get there.”
Catching my dismissal, Vera sighed. “Young love.” Heading for the side door, she grabbed her purse off the hook before turning back. “Enjoy your week. Relax for once.”
I would.
Just as soon as I found out what had Juliet pulling away.
Juliet
I knew that was too easy.
Shielding my eyes with my hand, I looked up to see Maximo standing next to me in his aviator shades, low slung trunks, and nothing else.
“Aren’t you going back to work?” I asked. When I’d gotten outside and he’d been nowhere to be found, I’d assumed he’d gone to his office.
“No.” He handed me a Diet Coke and some pain meds, waiting until I’d taken them before ordering, “Roll over.”
My mind may have been a mess of conflicted confusion, but my body didn’t have the same problem. It heated at his demand. “What?”
He held out a bottle of sunblock.
Oh. Right.
I rolled over and closed my eyes as he crouched to apply the lotion to my back and nape, massaging it in. His skilled fingers moved down, nearing my ass.
My breath caught, anticipation rioting in me. It whooshed out in a disappointed rush when he stood, taking his touch with him.
No, this is good. If he touches me, I’ll lose my head, and things will get even messier.
This is good.
Then why does it hurt so bad?
Without a word, he turned around and moved to the deck. Sitting on the patio couch, he stretched an arm across the back of it and stared down at his phone.
Tearing my attention from him, I flipped onto my back, but without my iPad to read, I was bored and restless. It was doubtful the chlorinated water would feel good on my face, so swimming was out.
Floating wasn’t, though.
Going to the pool house, I grabbed a lounge floaty and dragged it into the water. Once I was situated with my Diet Coke, floating under the shade of the canopy, I’d hoped my mind and body would relax.
They didn’t.
Because even in the peaceful quiet, my thoughts were at a roar.
Whore!
Rat!
Nothing!