Locke

“That doesn’t explain how that motherfucker’s handprints ended up all over your body.”

I don’t argue with him; it doesn’t explain that.  But I also don’t know what he’s going to do when I tell him the rest.

“Keep going,” he stresses.

“I managed to put them off until I turned twenty-one.  Don’t ask me how because I’m still not sure, but the first night I took the stage seemed to be the green light for him to claim his princess.  And every night until I was saved from there, until the night I came back.  He continues to claim his princess.”

“The hell you say?”

I just nod my head and move to leave the bed.  Distance seems like a good idea right now.

“Don’t you dare leave this bed.”

I turn and almost fall to my ass when he pulls me back to him.

“He put his hands on you.  That bastard hurt you.  I’ll fucking kill him,” he vows, and I don’t doubt that he means it.

“No, you won’t.”

“The hell you say!”

I roll my eyes at him, causing his to narrow. “I’m where I deserve to be, Maddox.  We can chalk this night up to a lapse in judgment on your end, and come morning, you can drop me back off and go home.”

“Are you serious?  You think for one second that I’m willingly going to hand-deliver you to your piece-of-shit parents and a fucking rapist!” he bellows.

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.”  I wiggle out of his hold and walk to the bathroom.  I need to get my shit together and I can’t do it when he’s near me.

I stand under the scalding-hot water that’s raining over my body and let my mind wander back to when I believed my love for Maddox could overcome everything.  That seems like a lifetime ago when it was really just months earlier.  He’s pushed me away for so long that it almost feels like some twisted kind of normal for us, but it isn’t fair to either of us to continue this tug-of-war.

I can’t keep wishing for the impossible and he needs me to leave so he doesn’t have some pathetic hanger-on.  Coop would be pissed if he knew that I went back to Syn.  I can’t help but feel like I’ve, in a sense, let him down.  He saved me from this life, took me in, and made sure I was safe.  He gave his life for me.  And I repaid him by jumping right back into the fire.

The grief I’ve felt over his death and my role in it comes crashing back over me and I drop to my knees.  The water continues to beat over my skin as I let out the emotions I’ve been struggling with for weeks.

I owe him for so much and I never would have been able to pay him back, but I can’t even remember the last time I hugged him and reminded him how thankful I was to have him in my life.  I remember being frustrated with him because he had been acting like a jerk the day before.  Not many people saw his serious side, but I did.  He was yelling at me to get my thumb out of my ass and move on.  He was always my biggest cheerleader, and it kills me to know that I’ll never see his smile again.  I’ll never feel his strong arms comforting me after a hard day and the shadows of my past creep up on me.

“Em?  Come on.  Turn off the water and let’s go.”

I ignore him and sit back on my ass, tilting my head up and letting the water wash my sorrow away.

“Now.”

“I’m not a dog, Maddox Locke!  I don’t come on command!” I shout over the water.

“Want to put money on that?”

That jerk!

I stand too quickly, and before I can catch myself, I’m tumbling through the curtain and onto the floor.  Maddox, clearly not having anticipated my literally falling at his feet, moves back.  The stoic mask I’ve grown so used to slips for a second and I see the shock followed quickly by lust before he hides again.

He comes out of his shock and helps me to my feet.  Then he reaches over the counter and pulls a towel off before thrusting it into my arms and leaving the bathroom.  I silently dry myself off and wrap the towel around my naked body.

I don’t necessarily want to go back into the bedroom, but I can’t exactly sleep in the bathroom.  I take a few deep breaths and walk into the room.  He’s pulled his jeans and shoes back on, and when he looks over at me and the questions that I’m sure are written all over my face, he just shakes his head.

“Mad,” I start with, having no clue where I’m going with the conversation.

“I’m hanging by a thread here, Em.  Let’s get one thing straight.  It’s never been that I don’t want you.  I just can’t have you.  Now, we’re going to go back to bed and, in the morning, go get whatever shit you need from that piece-of-shit hotel you’ve been holed up in.  We will NOT be going back to Syn.  I’ll have one of the guys come down with me to get your car.  Don’t look at me like that, Emmy.  I won’t bend on this.  You aren’t ready to go home—that’s fucking fine.  We’ll go somewhere else and get that pretty little head of yours together.  When you’re ready, we go home.  Simple as that.”

“It isn’t that simple, Maddox.”  I’m fuming.  Who the hell does he think he is telling me what is going to happen with my life?

And just as soon as the last thought passes through my mind, I want to laugh.  He’s Maddox freaking Locke.  Of course he is going to lay it out there in some unyielding demand.  He’s standing there, his naked chest and its sprinkling of dark hair making my hands twitch with the memory of what his skin feels like under my palms.

I cock my brow and invite him to continue.

He mirrors my move and crosses his tattooed arms over his massive chest.

Not to be outdone, I mimic his move.  His brow rises, but he doesn’t speak.

We’re at an impasse.  I’m not willing to be told what is going to happen in my life.  And he isn’t willing to let me run.

Little does he know, I’m the only one in control of my life.  A life he made clear for years that he has no interest in sharing with me.

Chapter 9—Maddox

She’s so damn beautiful when she’s pissed.  How have I never noticed just how appealing her ire is?  I’ve seen just about every emotion possible from her over the years, but never has her anger been wholly turned on me.