CHAPTER 27
Maddox
What I wouldn’t give to be inside her head right now. I expected her disgust when I laid all of my pain on her lap—literally—but I never anticipated her anger for me to become a force to be reckoned with.
“I hate them,” she forces through her clenched jaw. “God . . .” She shakes her head but doesn’t finish.
“Hating them doesn’t do anything, Em. Trust me. I’ve been doing it for so long that I should know.”
Her gaze burns into my skin as I pack up the box and close the lid. When I go to remove it from her lap, she stops me by slamming her palm down on the top.
“Don’t you dare. We’re going to keep this out, and each day, we will come back to it. We can pull them out one at a time, all at once, or just look at the fucking thing for all I care—but one thing we will be doing is talking about this. I’ll talk until I’m blue in the face and you’re going to sit there and listen to me. And, Maddox?”
“Yes, Emersyn,” I respond, waiting to see where she’s going with this.
“I don’t care if it takes every day I have left on this Earth, but by the time we finish, you’re going to be able to let go of everything that’s physically in this box and every piece of garbage you’ve let it collect within you.”
By the time she finishes, we’re both breathing heavily. I have no doubt that she means it, and even though I can’t help but feel nervous about the thought of reliving my nightmares daily, with her, part of me feels instant relief that she isn’t giving up on me now that she knows what a vile soul I have.
“I mean it, Maddox.”
“I know you do, angel.”
“And when we’re done, I’m going to remind you of this moment and the promise I’m about to make to you,” she says, her eyes begging me to believe.
“Go on,” I urge.
“One day soon, when we’re able to take the majority of this and throw it away. The day that you believe every word that I’m telling you as the truth that it is—that day, you’re going to feel the beauty of life, and the peace that you feel won’t even hold a candle to the love I’m going to drown you in.”
I give her a nod, not trusting myself to speak, and go to pick up the box again. She doesn’t move her hand until I bring my eyes back to hers.
“Don’t make me spank that doubt out of you,” she teases.
“Emersyn,” I warn.
Her eyes spark and her full lips tip up. “Keep doubting me. I dare you.”
“That sass is going to get you in trouble soon.”
She lets her hold on the box go and smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I drop the box on the top of my dresser, turning to look at her so that she sees that I’m willing to do this her way. I would be lying to myself if I said that I’m not hoping she’s right. Just the thought of feeling some peace is tempting enough for me to continue this fight. One that I know will be undoubtedly easier as long as she’s right there with me.
When I turn around, she’s lying on her back and looking at me hopefully. With a deep breath, I round the bed and sit. She’s seen me without my leg on. She’s seen my stump. She knows what I’ve been so careful to keep hidden because of the shame it gives me. Even with all of that, she’s still here, still wanting to be here. Knowing how I became this broken man didn’t change her mind at all.
That doesn’t lessen my self-consciousness about my . . . defect.
“Take it off, baby,” she whispers.
“Just give me a second.”
“I won’t give you a second. I gave you four years’ worth of seconds. It’s time for you to be a big boy and take it off,” she fumes.
I look at her and want to laugh at the situation. I should have known that, while I’m falling back on to my own faults and shortcomings, she would still throw her sass. She’s broken herself and still stands tall.
Can it really be that easy? To look at my life, find the positives—those things she thinks I’m missing because I’m too busy looking for the bad—and just let go?
Now or never, Maddox. You either keep moving forward with the hope or you let the fear consume you.
I hold her eyes, stand, and drop my sweats. Her eyes widen slightly, and had I not been staring at her directly, I wouldn’t have seen it. She stands her ground and doesn’t even flinch when I drop back down and remove my prosthetic. She doesn’t say a thing as I slide back and swing my legs over. She doesn’t make a sound until I lift my arm to pull her towards me.
Even then she doesn’t say anything with her words. She lets out a shocked gasp and lifts up as best she can with one arm.
“What . . .” She doesn’t finish her question, the words trailing off as she reaches one of her small hands towards my heated skin.
When I feel her fingertips graze the side of my body, I close my eyes and relish in the chills her touch elicits.
“I don’t . . . Is that . . . Maddox?” Her fingers don’t stop their tracing, their searching, as the question she didn’t speak lingers in the air.
“Yeah. It’s a rose, Emmy. It’s a rose that I got the day after I almost gave in and gave myself to you after Axel and Izzy got married.”
Her eyes jump to mine, shocked.
“I didn’t forget that,” I tell her. “Not for a second. Those stolen moments with you in my arms drove two things home—that you will forever be my Emersyn Rose and the only place you belonged was in my heart. I couldn’t give that to you then, so I did the second best thing. I had a symbol of you placed on my body permanently.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” she sighs after a few moments of silently searching my eyes.
“So don’t say anything. It’s there. It happened.”
“It’s beautiful,” she says, looking at the rose that starts just directly under my armpit and ends about six inches down. The rose is bright red, the stem done in black—with her name scripted down its length.
“Yeah . . . it really is,” I agree, not talking about the ink on my body, but the feeling of having her after so long of believing I couldn’t.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is just as simple as she believes. God, I hope so, because if just the thought of her love feels this good, I can’t imagine how it will truly feel.
I am just falling asleep, Emmy’s body curled as best as she can into me without jarring her arm and leg and her head resting on my outstretched arm. She’s been having a hard time sleeping today, so I’m hoping that, by keeping her close, she can rest more easily. A few times she woke up during the day crying out and I know she’s thinking about her attack.
It makes me go instantly savage. Like an untamed beast, I want to go on attack mode, but I stifle it down and focus on being there when she needs me. It wouldn’t do her a bit of good for me to lash out on her because I’m feeling the terror of having almost lost her.
“Maddox?” she utters into the darkness.
“Emersyn,” I rumble back, my voice thick.
“I knew you would save me.”
My body jolts and she moans in pain when I jar her body slightly. Shit.
“I fought him because I knew you would come. I fought him because I had a reason not to give up.”
I’m shocked stupid, unable to even form a grunt in response because of the feeling of my heart beating wildly as it grows to improbable levels.
“I used everything I had to make sure we would have our chance. I told you I would never stop fighting for you, and even though I was physically fighting for myself, I was in that battle to win not just my life . . . but yours too.
“Jesus,” I gasp past the lump in my throat.
“I would do it all over again. I’ll never stop fighting.”
I turn so that I’m on my side and shift my arm under her head so that she’s resting on the crook of my elbow, coming up off the mattress to cup her cheek with my other hand and bring my face close. Our noses touch first and I rub hers softly before taking her lips in a slow and powerful kiss.
The second my mouth opens, our tongues come together, tangling slowly in a caress so electric that I can feel it burning its power throughout my body. My cock presses against her hip, painfully swollen, and my balls throb with need. My skin burns. I give her everything I have with just our mouths fused together.
I pull back with a gasp when I feel the coiling in the base of my spine warning me that, if I continue, I’m going to embarrass myself.
“Holy crap,” she whispers in awe.
“I’m going to be worthy of you, Emmy,” I vow softly, my cheek pressed against hers and my lips whispering my promise in her ear. “I promise you, angel. I’m going to be the man you deserve. I—God—I fucking love you.”
She lets out a soft puff of air that lightly strokes against my cheek. I feel her chest shaking, and I bet she will be seconds from crying if I lean back.
“Such a poet,” she sighs with a slight wobble in her voice. “I’ve dreamt of hearing you say that, and I should have known that I would get a Maddox Locke version. Well, I fucking love you back.”
I laugh, kiss her cheek, and move to lie back down. “Are you doing okay with everything that happened, Em?” I ask, afraid of what she will say. I hate the thought of her being fearful of anything.
“Yeah,” she breathes. “Yeah, I really am. I could let it put a scar on my mind, but I’m not going to. I didn’t fight to live so that I could be scared for the rest of my days. Of course I’m hurt, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that the majority of that hurt isn’t the physical reminders—those will heal. It’s the thought that my own father sent that monster after me. I guess, like a silly little girl, I had believed that, one day, he would love me like a parent should love their child.” She laughs without humor. “I don’t want to give them the power over my future, Maddox, so I’m choosing to live for the blessings I have and heal from this.”
We don’t say anything else, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I replay her words over and over again. Everything she said could be used in my situation. I can continue as I always have—or I can choose to live for the blessings I have resting in my arms.
I want those blessings. I want that blessed life. I want to live.