Page 13 of Maximus (Gold Team #4)

“That I was supposed to die? Yeah, I knew. When I got to Seattle and reported the job was done, she told me, she never had the money I was promised. Though I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like criminals and assholes keep their word.”

“What else did she say?”

“No more, Max. I’ve told you enough and you’ve yet to tell me what happened at the restaurant.”

There was no chance in hell I was talking about sitting alone in that stupid, fucking hotel room in Seattle knowing, knowing , my life was over.

The deal that Jay had set up had gone to shit.

I wasn’t going to get the money to pay him off.

I was beyond crushed—at my absolute lowest. I didn’t know what Jay was going to do, but I didn’t think I’d ever see my kids again.

I would never admit to him or anyone what I was contemplating in that room.

“This is important, Eva. I need all the facts, every detail. I can imagine this is hard—”

“You cannot imagine shit, Max. You can’t begin to know what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your body.

My children were in danger and I was literally powerless to help them.

I was hundreds of miles from them and they were in the hands of a monster.

I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t think of anything other than my babies being tortured by a ruthless man who hated me so much he’d do anything to hurt me.

Any-damn-thing, including physically hurting my kids.

So, no, you don’t know what I was going through, you can’t imagine, and you have no fucking clue what I’m still going through.

That there’s not a day that’s gone by I don’t remember what happened to them.

Not a night I don’t lie in my bed and know down deep into my soul that it is because of me that my children suffered.

Every time I help Liam dress, I see the marks Jay left on my son’s arms. I see them.

My little boy has physical reminders of what that motherfucker did to him and he will for the rest of his life.

“And I will never forget that I nearly killed Mark and Zoey. Thank God, Mark had his pockets full of—”

“What about Bubba’s pockets?” Max stopped my tirade.

“The pockets of his cargo pants were stuffed full. I saw him at the vending machine before I went out to do my pre-flight check. He pulled out a compass and a flint. I think he was looking for change or something. Anyway, I knew he was a SEAL and I prayed that whatever else he had in those pockets would keep him and Zoey alive until someone found them.”

“You knew he was a SEAL?” Max asked incredulously.

“I looked him up on the internet. I found an article about Heritage Plastics. An interview where Colin Wright boasted about his son, Mark Wright, being a Navy SEAL and his other son, Mark’s twin, Malcom, being his right-hand man in the business. Colin was proud of both of his sons.”

It was a horrible thought, but thankfully, Colin had passed away before he knew that it was his son Malcom who’d tried to kill Mark. Though, Malcom had killed Colin, so maybe my thinking was wrong. In a perfect world, Colin would still be alive and Malcom wouldn’t have been a greedy, lowlife swine.

“What do you know about Malcom and Tracy?”

“Nothing.”

“Has anyone from Alaska been in touch with you since you moved to Florida?”

“No. Now, please tell me about the explosion?”

“It was your car,” he said without preamble .

“What?”

“Your car blew up. Tex thought there might’ve been a tracking device on your car and asked me to go check it over. That’s what I was doing outside.”

My ass was up off the couch. I spun in a circle, undecided why I was up and where I was going. I just couldn’t sit anymore. I couldn’t live under this cloud any longer.

“Whoa!” Max was up, his hand shot out, and he grabbed my arm before I could flee. Not that I would’ve been able to go far, I was locked in a fucking safehouse, my boys in the other room, all of us under threat.

“Let go of me.”

“Calm down.”

“Calm is a thing of the past, Max. Someone blew up my car. My boys…” I tried to yank my arm free but he held tight. “They could’ve…”

“But they didn’t. Right now, they’re down the hall asleep, something they’re not gonna be if you keep shouting.”

I clamped my mouth closed and stared up at Max—jaw tight, mouth hard, eyes narrowed. I was so sick and tired of being on the receiving end of his scowl.

“God, you’re always mad at me,” I blurted.

“Come again?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” I mumbled, and his scowl deepened. Time to move on . “Why did Tex think my car had a tracking device?”

“Eva?” Max’s hand tightened around my bicep before it trailed down my arm and he captured my hand and tugged me forward.

I stumbled into him. My free hand shot forward and landed on an impressive hard, wall of muscle.

It was either that or faceplant into his chest. “Tell me why you think I’m always mad at you. ”

There was a lot going on in my muddled mind. I was raw from over-sharing, scared, emotional, and now I was utterly confused. Why on earth would he care what I thought? Max wasn’t with me to make friends. He was there to play bodyguard—as a favor to his friend, no less.

I seriously needed to watch what I said to Max.

Bodyguard. That’s all he was, all he’d ever be.