Torment & Temptation (Rapture & Ruin 2)

Max. I would have to face him. He would insist on escorting me home.

And even though I wasn’t sure what I would say to him, I was too scared to be alone in public after his cousins’ attack.

I swallowed hard and got to my feet. Mike caught my elbow when I stumbled slightly.

I ignored his frown and forced my knees to support me as I headed out of the office. I didn’t know what I would tell Max about my new, horrific discoveries.

Ever since he’d stormed back into my life, I’d been putting off the difficult conversations that we’d have to face. No matter how daunting it was, I would have to ask him about his Mafia family. I couldn’t reconcile the Max I knew with the cruel men who’d assaulted me in the alley yesterday. How could he remain loyal to his family if they were capable of such violence?

We had a lot to talk through. I feared his answers might break us.

ALLIE

“Hey,” Max said softly, caressing my cheek. “I’m right here. No one can hurt you.”

“I know.” My reply was watery; I’d barely managed to suppress my tears on the way back to my place, and now that we were cuddled up on my couch, I couldn’t hold back my emotions anymore.

Max’s brow furrowed, and he gently brushed a tear from my face. “I hate that my cousins scared you,” he growled. “I’ll never let them touch you again. I swear.”

“It’s not that.” I drew in a hitching breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. No matter how badly I craved for Max to kiss away all my worries.

His thick fingers stroked through my hair, soothing. “Then what is it? You’ve been upset ever since I picked you up from work.”

“It’s everything!” I burst out, and he blinked in shock. “All of this: the Mafia, the Bratva, my dad…” I cut off that line of thought before I could spiral. I wanted to focus on Max and his family, not the rot at the foundations of my own.

“Why are you loyal to them?” I asked, somewhere between a demand and a plea. “Your cousins are awful. Your sister is cruel to you. And you… You’re not like them,” I finished, unable to ask about his violent streak. I’d seen him beat up Gavin, so I knew he was more than capable of brutality. What turned my stomach was the possibility that he drew blood on behalf of his criminal family.

His jaw firmed, and his eyes tightened with pain. “I told you from the very beginning that I’m a monster. I never lied to you about that, Allie.”

“You’re not,” I insisted hotly, holding up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you, Max.” I placed my palm over his heart. It beat hard and fast beneath my tender touch. “I don’t know everything you’ve done, but I do know you. What I don’t understand is why you haven’t distanced yourself from your family when they are obviously horrible to you. I’m not talking about their criminal activities,” I clarified. “I’m talking about how I’ve seen them treat you.”

If I could make him see how terrible they truly were, maybe he would forsake them. Maybe we could begin to untangle this mess between us and find a way to be together without the threat of his family coming after me.

I remembered the cold steel of his cousin’s blade against my throat, and a shudder of residual horror shook my body. Max’s stony expression melted, and he pulled me close to his muscular chest. I leaned into him, allowing this strength to envelop me. This was how it should be: Max and me, together. With no threats or vendettas separating us.

“They threatened me because they know you care about me,” I said quietly, cajoling rather than accusing. “That’s not something a loving family would do. That’s not love, Max.”

“Sometimes love is hard, but blood is everything.” He said the rote response like a well-worn litany. It wasn’t the first time he’d told me that.

My heart squeezed. What had they done to him to secure this twisted loyalty?

I peered into his face, and he absently rubbed at the scarred flesh around his eye. My stomach dropped as something awful occurred to me.

“How did you get that scar?” I whispered, my heart fluttering too fast in my chest.

He went utterly still, his face carved from granite. “Why would you ask me that?” The question was harsh, meant to shove me away from his pain.

“Tell me, Max,” I insisted, although I kept my tone gentle. Volatility brewed just beneath the surface of his skin, and it would explode into a fiery wall of protective rage if I pushed too hard.

I didn’t want him to be angry anymore; I didn’t want him to hurt.