Page 38

Connor

The drive back to Max’s apartment was quiet, heavy with the aftermath of everything we’d just done.

Max sat silently beside me, her breathing slow and deep, eyes fixed blankly ahead.

My knuckles were white against the steering wheel, slight stains of red smattered across them from tonight.

From the kill we had made together, exacting justice for Lara.

I kept glancing at her, aching with the need to reach out, to comfort her, to make sure that she was okay.

But the silence felt sacred, necessary for her to process.

For us both to process.

When we finally reached her apartment, I parked quietly, turning off the ignition, but making no move to get out.

I waited, giving her the space to speak first.

Finally, she turned her head towards me, eyes glistening in the dim light.

“Connor,”

she whispered, voice strained and raw, “I don’t know what to feel right now.”

“That’s okay,”

I murmured gently, reaching out slowly to tuck a bloodied strand of hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to feel anything right now.”

She sighed softly; eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“Everything hurts, Connor.

I thought after tonight it would finally stop hurting.

But it doesn’t.”

My heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice.

“It will,”

I promised quietly, squeezing her hand gently.

“Not tonight, maybe not even tomorrow.

But it will get better, and until it does, I’m here.”

She stared at me silently, her expression shifting between gratitude and anguish.

“Can you stay with me again tonight?”

My heart squeezed painfully at the uncertainty in her voice.

“I wasn’t going anywhere, sweetheart.”

Inside her apartment, the quiet between us persisted.

Max moved mechanically toward the bathroom as I followed close behind.

I helped her wash away the evidence of the night, and she did the same for me.

I held her close under the running water of the shower as she sobbed into my chest, whispering promises in her ear that everything was going to be okay.

I climbed out before her, letting her have some alone time to decompress from the evening.

When she finally emerged, wrapped in nothing but a soft towel, she looked so fragile, so utterly unlike the fierce woman who’d destroyed a monster just hours ago.

“Come here,”

I whispered, opening my arms as I sat on the edge of her bed.

She moved forward immediately, climbing onto my lap, burying her face into my neck.

I wrapped my arms around her tightly, holding her to me, my fingers tracing gentle patterns across her skin.

“I’m sorry,”

she whispered softly against my throat, her breath warm.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this mess.

For forcing you to choose between me and Joe.

You shouldn’t have had to make that choice.”

I leaned back slightly, cupping her face in my hands, making her look at me.

Her eyes were red, swollen with tears, and filled with so much guilt it made my chest hurt.

“Max, there was no choice.

It was always you.

It will always be you.

Yes, it fucking hurts about Joe.

He saved me, in more ways than one, and I’m never going to forget that.

But losing you? That would’ve ended me completely.”

Her lower lip trembled as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

“Connor, I—”

she paused, her voice shaking with raw emotion.

“I love you.

God, I love you so fucking much it terrifies me.”

My heart stopped.

Those words, finally spoken, crashed into me, breaking me open.

Relief, joy, pain—all of it rushing through me at once.

Not once, when I entered this apartment all those months ago, did I ever imagine that Maxine Pochon would say those three words to me.

Those three words felt like the glue that held every broken piece of me together, fixing me in a way I never thought would be possible.

I pulled her face closer, gently brushing my thumb over her cheekbone, capturing her gaze with mine.

“I love you, Maxine.

I loved you long before you even knew my name.

You have me completely, and you always fucking will.”

She let out a shaky breath, tears spilling freely.

“Even after everything? After tonight? After knowing exactly what I am?”

“Because of everything,”

I whispered fiercely, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her lips “You’re mine, exactly as you are.

I don’t just love the easy parts Max—I love every broken piece, every scar, every dark corner.

All of it.

Besides, you look kinda fucking hot covered in blood.”

She huffed a soft laugh then kissed me, softly, gently, and yet filled with raw desperation.

Her lips moved against mine like a promise, a plea, a reassurance, as she began to tug at my towel.

I stood slowly, holding her firmly in my arms, and laid her gently on the bed.

Slowly, carefully, I shed my towel, watching her eyes track my every movement.

When I climbed onto the bed beside her, pulling away her towel, there was no rush, no urgency.

Tonight wasn’t about hunger; it was about healing, together.

“I need you, Connor,”

she whispered, pulling me down to her.

My body settled between her thighs, our skin pressed together, warm and comforting.

I placed my hand against her face tenderly as I eased myself inside her, our eyes locked, unblinking, her breath caught softly, and I stilled, giving her a moment.

“Are you sure, Max? Todays been… hard.

I don’t want you to do anything you’re going to regret.”

I whispered against her skin, placing soft kisses over her cheeks.

“Connor, please,”

she breathed, wrapping her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, closer.

I moved slowly, rocking gently into her, each thrust deliberate, tender, careful.

My lips trailed across her skin, gentle kisses pressed into collarbone, her shoulder, her throat.

Her hands slid over my back, clutching tightly, like she was holding on to me for dear life.

This wasn’t fucking, it was lovemaking.

It was quiet, gentle, intimate in a way I didn’t know sex could be.

She whimpered softly beneath me, her eyes filled with trust and vulnerability as she whispered my name like a prayer.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, overwhelmed by the scent of her, the softness of her skin beneath mine.

“I’m here, Max,”

I whispered against her throat, my voice shaking.

“I’ve got you, I’m all yours.”

“Connor...”

she gasped, her breath hitching as her body tightened beneath me.

Her hands gripped me tighter, pulling me impossibly close as her orgasm gently rippled through her.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Maxine,”

I breathed out, feeling myself shatter in response, holding onto her as tightly as I could, as if she might vanish if I dared let go.

Afterwards, I held her close, her head resting against my chest as she listened to the steady thump of my heartbeat.

I traced my fingers over her bare back, soothing her gently, promising her silently that I was never letting go.

“You make me feel safe,”

she whispered softly, breaking the silence.

“You’re the only person since my dad who ever truly has.”

My heart swelled painfully.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that never changes.”

She smiled softly, lifting her head just enough to look at me.

“Promise?”

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart full and aching at the same time. “Always.”

She settled back down, her breathing growing steady, her body finally relaxing fully against mine.

As sleep slowly claimed her, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing this was exactly where I belonged.

No matter how dark, twisted, or broken our paths had been, in this moment, it all made perfect sense.

Because Maxine was my beginning, my end, and my everything in between.

I couldn’t remember life before her, and I couldn’t imagine a life without her.

If she died, I would be a step behind her, my soul following hers no matter where it ended up.

And if I died first, I’d watch her from the other side, waiting for her to join me once again.

And now, she knew exactly how true that was.