Page 35

EIGHTEEN

AUDREY

NOW I THINK I know why Maddox likes killing people. Why he loves his job the way he does.

Because it’s kind of exhilarating to take out someone trying to hurt a person you care about.

I get that’s not normally his reason for killing, but I don’t plan to start shooting people professionally, so this is as close as I’m going to get to experiencing his profession.

I don’t hate it.

Luca keeps eyeballing me from where he sits behind the wheel, his gaze drifting to where I sit in the middle of the back seat. Like he’s expecting me to have a complete meltdown any second. I understand, and I’m a little surprised it’s not happening myself.

But I didn’t really have a choice. If I didn’t stop him, that man was going to hurt Maddox.

Technically he already had.

I run my hands over the vest that’s the only reason Maddox is still breathing. I can feel the spot where he was hit, and it turns my stomach, making me even more comfortable with the actions I’d been forced to take.

“I’m okay.” His voice is soft, reassuring. He catches my hands, long fingers encircling my wrists, and lifts them to his mouth, running his lips across my knuckles. “I promise. Both shots hit my vest.”

My eyes widen. “ Both ?” That bastard shot him twice ?

The one I watched hit him stopped my whole heart. If I’d known that fucker shot him another time, there’s a good chance I would’ve worked out a way to even the playing field and add a second one to my own tally.

Owen twists in the front seat, leaning our way, his upper body practically wedged against the console. “You doing okay, Becca?”

Holy shit. I fucking forgot Becca was even here. As much as I hate to do it, since I haven’t verified he’s as okay as he claims, I turn away from Maddox, looking over the small woman beside me.

But she doesn’t look any worse for wear. If anything, Becca looks even more pissed off than she was the last time I saw her. She’s slouched beside me, arms crossed tight over the hoodie she’s got on. Her lips are pressed into a deep frown as she glares around the car.

“I swear to God, if those assholes mess up my house, I’m going to kill all of them with my bare hands.”

Owen’s mouth presses into a considering line, his brows lifting. “I can probably make that happen.”

Luca’s hand suddenly smashes against Owen’s face, shoving him back into his seat. “Leave her alone, dick. She just had to climb out of the fucking window and deal with your shoulder crammed against her gut.”

Owen scoffs. “You carried her first, prick.”

“Can both of you shut up?” Becca lifts one hand to squeeze at her temples. “I’ve got a headache.”

The car goes silent. I don’t think anyone wants to make Becca’s night any more awful than it already is, so we finish the drive to the hotel in silence.

It takes longer than the trip to Becca’s house, partly because Luca pretty much obeys speed limits, but also because we have to take a roundabout way to make sure no one’s tailing us.

By the time we finally make it to the hotel, I am itching to get a good look at Maddox and make sure he’s genuinely not injured.

I wouldn’t put it past him to lie to me about this.

He wouldn’t want me to worry. But I will worry until I see for myself he’s okay, so he’s just going to have to deal with it.

After getting Becca a room of her own—also under the name of one of Alaskan Security’s shell companies—we drop her off, making sure she knows not to use her phone and to come get us if anything happens.

Once she’s set, Luca and Owen begrudgingly leave her alone to go to their room, and I practically shove Maddox into ours.

The door’s barely close behind us before I say, “Strip.”

I expect him to argue with me. He’s been a pain in the ass every other time I’ve tried to do much more than snuggle him, but Maddox slowly turns to face me and begins unfastening the destroyed vest covering his chest. Pulling it up and off, he tosses it aside and it hits the floor with a surprisingly loud thud.

There are no holes in the shirt he’s wearing underneath, and that makes me breathe a little easier.

There’s also no sign of blood on his skin, so hopefully he’s as okay as he claims.

His hands go to his shirt, gripping across his stomach to pull it free of his pants.

Once it’s loose, he drags it up and over his head.

The sight of his body still shorts out my brain a little bit, but not as severely as it did initially.

Now I know what’s coming, and can brace for all the solid muscle and sculpted abs staring back at me.

Plus, this time, I’m looking for something specific. Signs of injury. New...

And old.

Stepping close, I move my eyes over the reddened skin of his chest. It hasn’t bruised yet, but based on the inflamed color of his skin, it’s coming. Carefully, I lift both hands, gently brushing my fingers over the smooth skin and slightly textured hair of his chest. “This looks like it hurts.”

“I’m okay.” Maddox’s blue eyes fuse to my face as I continue tracing lines across his skin with a light touch.

I stop when I reach the scar I noticed before, lifting my eyes to his face.

Now that I’ve seen his gear up close—witnessed his vest taking a shot intended to kill him—I’m paying more attention to the location of the slightly shiny patch.

It’s right at his shoulder, just beyond the coverage of his vest. “Was this from a gunshot?”

Maddox offers a silent nod, and I struggle not to react. The last time I questioned him about this scar, he completely avoided answering, and I haven’t seen him shirtless since. I don’t want that to happen again, but it’s difficult not to start asking questions.

To distract myself from all the things I want to know, I continue looking him over, exploring his bare upper half with both my hands and my eyes.

It’s not long before I find another circular scar marring his beautiful body. “Another gunshot?”

Again, Maddox nods silently. I study his face, confused when he almost seems... Guilty? Maybe even ashamed?

The urge to ask for specifics burns through me, and again, I tamp it down, keeping my lips fused together. But it’s killing me to see him so upset. Especially since I don’t know exactly why.

I find another scar.

And another.

Four. Four gunshots that pierced his skin and caused him pain. Four times someone tried to steal him before I even had the chance to know how amazing he is.

Pulling in a slow breath, hoping it will temper the anger making my trigger finger twitchy, I ask, “Is that all of them?”

Again, Maddox nods, but this time he offers up an explanation. “I was shot protecting Savannah and her sister over the winter. We were ambushed, and since I was the one who went first, I took the brunt of it.”

I force in another shaky breath, this one struggling to pass around the lump in my throat and the tightness in my chest. “She didn’t tell me.”

Maddox brings a hand to my face, smoothing back a little of the hair that’s worked free of my bun.

“She probably didn’t want to tell you someone you’d recently met was shot when she was trying to rescue a woman from an abusive situation.

It would have hit a little close to home, and you’d already been through so much. ”

Surprisingly, a small smile lifts my lips. “Seems like Savannah was trying to protect me the same way I was trying to protect her.”

Maddox’s fingers trace the side of my face, his eyes holding mine. “I guess that means she’ll have to forgive you for holding back on her.”

I swallow, deciding to push my luck. “I’m not the only one who was holding out though, was I?”

My eyes fall to the scar on his shoulder.

Leaning forward, I press my lips against his warm skin.

It’s the first time I’ve been able to do more than kiss his mouth, and when he doesn’t stop me, I decide to keep going.

I move to the next healed injury. It’s right alongside his collarbone, and I brush my lips over it, breathing the scent of him into my lungs.

Following the same path my hands took, I slide my way to the next scar, playing a sad game of connect the dots across Maddox’s chiseled chest.

The final gunshot went in right beneath his ribs, just below the bottom line of his vest. The scar it left behind almost hides in the ridge of his abs, and I drop to my knees so I can reach it more easily.

After pressing another kiss to his warm skin, my hands move to his belt, intention clear, as I work it open.

Or at least as I attempt to. Unfortunately, I’ve pushed my luck as far as it will go, and Maddox scoops me up from the floor, bringing me to my feet before urging me backward with the press of his body against mine.

I frown at him. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”

“You were touching me.” His hands come to grip my hips, holding tight as he eases me toward the bed.

I angle a brow at him. “You know what I mean.”

The back of my legs hit the mattress, but Maddox’s body continues pushing me and I tumble back.

Thanks to his arm snaking across my back, supporting most of my weight, the landing is soft and controlled.

Instead of leaving me sprawled sideways at a weird angle, Maddox shifts me—still using just that one arm to manage my weight—until my head is on the pillows and his body hovers over mine.

He completes the entire process without a single grunt or straining expression, even after taking two shots to the vest.

I’ve never been with someone as strong as Maddox.

It should be unnerving, knowing he could hurt me if he wanted.

Way worse than Trevor was capable of. But I could never be afraid of him.

I know, with complete and unwavering certainty, Maddox would never, ever hurt me.

It’s yet another way I feel like I know him so well.

Understand him in a way that shouldn’t be possible so soon after meeting him.