Page 57

“Answer me,” I demand, though I keep my voice soft to keep from startling him and causing him to stab the damn tweezers into the bottom of my already abused feet.

He blows a heavy breath out through his nose and pulls his hand away from my foot, though he doesn’t release it from the grasp of his other hand.

His eyes raise to my face and there are so many emotions swimming in the green depths I almost regret asking.

Almost. But not quite.

I need to know how, after everything the four of us shared, any of them could think I would ever willingly walk away from them. I’d let them each carve their initials into my flesh after they begged me to leave my own mark on theirs. In my eyes, I married each of them that night.

“I…” He hesitates, raises a hand as though to push it through his hair, then grimaces at the bloody tipped tweezer and drops it to his side. “I don’t have a good answer for that question.”

“How about any answer, good or bad,” I say. Because I feel like I deserve an answer, damn it.

“I don’t know that I ever believed it, but Brix went to your house. And your dad…that fucking asshole was so smug. He told this detailed story about this plan the two of you came up with, said you had a fiancé the whole time.”

My mind is churning. The fact he was rubbing shit in Brixton’s face tells me my father put two and two together, that he knew Brix – or one of the other two – impregnated me, that I was protecting them.

He said everything he could think of to hurt them instead of coming out and telling them I was dead. Because they might have grieved my death, but the pain of thinking I had betrayed them in the most disgusting and heart-breaking way possible would be something that could literally bring them to their knees.

Madd barely raises his head and looks me in the eye. “We could have kept you safe. You could have come to us. We would have taken care of you. We could have avenged our child. We could have punished anyone and everyone who hurt you and those who didn’t bother to step in to help.”

His voice is low, full of so many raw emotions my eyes sting with tears.

Blinking them away, I cross my arms, suddenly overly aware of how very naked I am. I don’t know why I thought stripping in front of him would be enough to get him to stop trying to run off on a kamikaze mission, but it worked.

And now my ass is sitting on the cool marble, my pussy on full display as he keeps one of my legs hoisted in the air, and my nipples are pebbled, though I’m not sure how much of that is from the temperature, how much is from the feelings whirling inside my chest, and how much is having my beautiful Maddox with his Henry Cavill-esque good looks so close.

Especially after tasting his kiss for the first time after so many years, the feeling of his lips on mine a reminder to my body of exactly how good he always made me feel.

He must think my crossed arms are to stave off the chill because he straightens, grabs the back collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head, then holds it up, tugging it over mine and holding it while waiting for me to slide my arms through the sleeves.

He and Kato aren’t as freakishly big as Brix, but they’re far from small. I’m swimming in his shirt like I was in Brix’s.

Madd’s hands slide over my shoulders, down to my arms where they still as he stares into my face and repeats, “We could have kept you safe, E.”

“And you would have risked your lives. Besides, it was a few weeks before I was healthy enough to even stand on my own. And by then…” I shrug, not really sure what to say.

Viktor had warned me to run, to stay hidden. And yeah, I’m sure he only said that to protect me, to remind me that my father would make another attempt on my life and would absolutely execute Viktor for not following through with his orders, but Iknew staying away would also prevent a war between the two families.

Or I had hoped.

“I didn’t know about Christos. Brix told me what happened, that Kato killed him.”

Madd stares at me for a few more seconds before finally pulling his hands away from me. Such day and night with him, between the way he’d gone fully unhinged psycho killer a few moments ago to looking like my sweetheart from four years ago.

Damn. I’m only twenty-two yet feel so much older from everything I’ve experienced over time, and my guys are even hotter; more…manly. Less boyish charm and all masculine, rugged beauty.

When he returns his attention to my feet, I lean back against the mirror and watch him, study his face, relearn the curves of his square jaw, the adorable dimple in his chin, the dark wave of his hair.

Brix and Madd aren’t of Greek lineage, but they sure as hell could pass with their warm complexion, patrician noses, and nearly black hair and lashes.

Ugh. Those lashes. Each time Maddox blinks, I become a little more hypnotized. As a teenager, I remember being jealous of those long, black lashes that took me a lash curler and coats of mascara to accomplish.

“I swear you’re even hotter,” I mutter, speaking my thoughts aloud before I can stop myself.

He smirks and glances up at me. “Ditto,” he says before lifting my foot so high I frown at him. He moves around and even turns on his phone flashlight to make sure he got all the glass before cleaning away the blood, applying some goo, then applying gauze and wrapping tape round and round.

When he kisses the top of my foot before gently releasing it and moves on to the next, I sigh. This is how our reunion should have gone.