Page 24 of Maxim (The Syndicates #12)

T he sky is dark and gloomy as rain falls. Thunder booms every few minutes, adding to the mood. My crochet project is forgotten as I stare out the window. Something about thunderstorms soothes me and always has.

“Do you see something?” Maxim asks.

“Huh?” I ask as I look over at him.

It’s not very often that I see Maxim dressed down, but when he is, I love it. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants. His hair is messier than normal, and his beard is just a little longer than how he typically wears it.

“Are you done checking me out yet?” He smirks.

“Shut up,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Hey, I like your eyes on me. I’m not complaining,” he says as he takes a seat next to me.

“Cocky much?”

“Nah, confident.” He reaches over and rests his hand on my leg as he looks out the window. “It looks like shit out there.”

“Yeah, the forecast says it’s supposed to rain the rest of the night.”

“Fuck. That’s going to make shit interesting later,” he mutters.

I bite my tongue to stop myself from asking what’s happening tonight. As much as I want to know, I don’t want to push him. Not right now, at least. He asked for time, and that’s what I’m giving him.

“Come here,” I say softly.

Maxim looks over at me with a line between his brows.

I roll my eyes and kick my feet out so they are resting on his lap. Then I pull on his arm until he lies down. Wordlessly he places his head in my lap and wraps his arms around my waist. My hand moves, and I start running my fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp with my nails.

When Maxim groans, I feel the vibration right where I want it most, and the heat from his breath moves over the seam between my thighs. Between the two, I fight the urge to move.

Now’s not the time to get turned on.

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good. I don’t know if anyone’s ever played with my hair.”

My hand pauses. “Wait, really?”

“Really. Keep going, please.”

Wordlessly, I start playing with his hair again. I kinda like being the first to do something for him.

“How’s the project going?” he asks.

“Fine. I’m not sure if I like it yet, but I’m good at it.”

“Will you make me something?”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Surprise me,” he murmurs, burying his face further into my lap.

Ideas start to roll through my head. Do I make him a blanket? A scarf? Hell, a rug? The options are endless.

“What time do you have to leave by?” I ask after a few moments of silence.

Maxim groans. “In a couple of hours, but I honestly don’t want to think about it.”

“I get that.”

“Do you and Thea have plans?”

“I think she was planning on bringing over some sort of new project for us to try.”

“I’ll give you two credit. You’re trying a little bit of everything, but there’s one thing I’m surprised that you haven’t done yet.”

“What’s that?”

“A classic puzzle, but one of those that’s like three thousand pieces.”

I pause running my fingers through his hair.

“How had I not thought of that? When I was a kid, one of my nannies used to bring me puzzles all the time.”

Maxim reaches behind his head and starts moving my hand again, making me giggle.

“I’ve created a monster,” I tease.

When I start moving it on my own, he wraps his arm back around my waist.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Never. The puzzle thing, though, was a good idea. I’ll have to mention it to Thea.”

“I aim to please,” he quips, making me chuckle.

Thunder booms, and Maxim groans.

“Please tell me you’re not one of those crazy people who hates a little rain.”

He pinches my hip, making me squeal.

“Keep moving under me like that, and I’ll think you want something else,” he growls.

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” I quip.

“You think you’ve created a monster, but really it’s me that’s turned you into one.”

It’s true. It’s been a week since he pleasured me, but every night I’ve asked if we can do it again. I even offered to return the favor, but he refuses. He only wants to please me.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Nah, it’s definitely not a bad thing,” he says as he buries his face in the crease between my legs. “You smell amazing.”

The idea of him burying his face where it is but without any clothes on is…exhilarating, but I’m not sure if I’m quite ready for it. I mean, I need to shave for something like that, right? They were always shaved in the porn they made me watch.

I clear my throat. “The rain. Tell me why you hate it.”

“There is nothing wrong with rain as long as I don’t have to fuck around in it.”

“Aw, do you melt when you get wet?” I tease.

“I’ll show you that I don’t melt,” he growls. “I just fucking hate wet clothes and shoes. The way they squelch is…” He shivers in disgust.

“Good to know,” I say, trying to hide the humor in my voice.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who likes to lay out in the rain.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried it,” I say wistfully.

“What do you mean, you’ve never tried it?”

“Father wouldn’t allow it, so the guards always made sure I never had the chance to try.”

Maxim sighs. “Fine. I’ll lay with you in the rain, just not today, okay?”

He just admitted that he hates getting wet, yet he’s willing to do it just to make me happy. Could Maxim really be any more perfect?

“Really?” I ask.

“Really.”

I sigh, content. “You’re a good man, Maxim.”

“I’m not, but I’m glad you think I am.”

His phone rings, and he sighs as he pushes off of me and stands.

“When I get back, I want some more head scratches.”

“You got it.”

He can have all the head scratches he wants if he keeps it up. That’s for sure.

Lightning flashes across the sky as the rain pours, just adding to my already shitty mood. The windshield wipers fight to keep up, but they are failing. It’s a fucking bitch to see right now and thunder booms so loud I swear it shakes the van.

I fucking hate this.

The back of the cargo van is loaded with ten people who got in willingly thanks to Haruaki’s list that Thea passed to me and have already been given a sedative.

They all have trackers firmly in place, which is one of the only things that leaves me with any form of comfort.

The other being the fact they are all above the age of eighteen.

I glance back and check on my cargo. All of them already look to be passed out. They have no idea what’s coming their way.

Sighing, I pick up my phone and place the call. It rings three times before it connects.

“Yeah?”

“I’m pulling up. Where do you want me?” I ask the man I hate more than anything in this world, Olena’s father.

“Come around to the back of the building. We will open the door for you, and you’ll pull right in,” he says before hanging up.

“Nice to talk to you too,” I grumble.

I turn into the parking lot and round the back of the building. The dented garage door gleams in my headlights.

Jesus.

It’s so fucked up I don’t even know if it will open.

Right when I start to question it, the door begins to lift.

Guess I was wrong.

I do as Jan said and pull inside the building. I watch them shut the garage door as I put the van in park and then shut it off. I jump out of the van and shut the door behind me.

“I can’t wait to see what you have,” Jan says as he rubs his hands together.

“I hope you approve,” I tell him.

We move to the back and watch as one of the guys opens the door.

“Get them out,” Jan says.

One by one his men take the six women and four men out of the back of the truck. All of them have different body shapes and hair colors. One of the girls even looks real young, even though she assured me she was of age.

I hope this pleases Jan and is enough variety for the auction.

“Only the one young one?” he asks, making my stomach roll.

“The young ones are harder to grab. You and I both know that. Especially on a night like this,” I lie.

“True. True,” he muses.

He walks over and checks the people over. Sometimes he lifts their chins to study their faces, while sometimes he crouches down and brushes their hair out of the way. The way he studies them so intently makes me nauseous.

When he reaches the last girl, though, shit hits the fan. She startles awake when he touches her and loses her shit. Before he can step back, she bites his hand. With his opposite hand, he backhands the ever-loving shit out of her. When she releases her hold on him, his men step in.

“Let me go!” she screams.

“We got a feisty one, boys.” He chuckles, making the other men laugh. “Show her what happens when you act out.”

Szymon steps forward and grabs her by the hair, tilting her chin back. I watch as he spits in her face as he berates her.

“Quiet! Women are meant to be seen, not heard.”

She sobs as her feet slide against the floor, foolishly trying to get away.

I itch to step in. Especially since I was told they were all aware of what they were getting into.

“Please let me go,” she cries.

Goddammit. Did I fuck up and grab someone who wasn’t on Takahai’s list? When I took her, she acted like the others and didn’t protest. She pretty much came willingly. Is this on me?

Szymon begins to kick her.

“Do you know who you attacked? He’s the head of the Pruszków, the Polish Mafia.”

The woman sobs.

“You know what I think, boss?” Szymon says.

“What’s that, Szymon?” Jan says.

“I think she would be good for a morale boost.”

Jan hums. “It has been a while since we’ve done one of those.”

“What’s a moral boost?” I ask, cutting in.

“A morale boost is one that we’re all allowed to take a turn at before they go to market,” one of the men says as he licks his lips.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Gang rape.

They are talking about doing a gang rape.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. How the fuck did things go so off course?

“Come on, boss. Let us, please?” one of the men begs.

“I bet she’s tight as fuck,” says another.

“Don’t get too excited, boys. She’s too pretty for you all to take a run at her,” Jan says.

The men groan in protest as relief fills me.

Thank Christ.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Not only could I not have raped her, but I don’t think I could’ve let them do it either. The Lord saved me there.

“With that said, though, she still needs to be punished. Szymon, remember, avoid the face,” Jan says.

“Yes, sir,” Szymon says before he kicks her in the ribs.

Unable to look away, I watch as he kicks the shit out of her over and over again. My fists itch to pound Szymon into a pulp, but I can’t. I can’t step in and end this. My hands are tied, and my stomach rolls as I stand by.

Only when she falls silent do I take a breath of relief.

The only thing offering me a level of comfort right now is the fact that her chest rises each time it falls.

Still, it does nothing to ease my guilt. I did this. Bile burns the back of my throat. I put this woman in this place. I brought her here to be beat to hell, and I fucking hate myself for it.

Olena swears I’m a good man, but she couldn’t be farther from wrong if she tried. No, the trauma this girl just experienced is on me. I’m the one who’s to blame for all of her future nightmares, and it’s going to live with me for the rest of my life.