by Millie Adams
And she just sat on the bed. She started to tremble. She should be most upset about the fact that she had nearly been killed, but she was mostly frightened of what the future looked like without Maximus. He had retreated. Gone away behind this war-general facade.
She knew that she would not be able to take him now. Chloroform would not be sufficient to subdue him. To bring him to her.
No.
If she was ever going to have him, he would have to choose. And she didn’t know if he ever would.
Annick had spent all of her life in a state of hope. She’d had to. If not for the hope inside of her, she would have lost herself completely while she had been captive. But now she could not find it.
Because how could you hope for a man who had no hope for himself?
She had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps his darkness was so black it drowned out her light.
Annick had never felt so hopeless before.
In the moment, Annick felt like she was Queen of nothing except her own broken heart.
And there was simply no triumph to be had in that.
* * *
In the weeks since the attempt on Annick’s life, Maximus had waged a full-scale tactical war against any forces that might seek to oppose his Queen. He had made sufficient threats toward Lackland, and he knew that they would not be pursuing her ever again. Already, he had banded together with Monte Blanco to ensure that the Lacklanders would be punished. That steep sanctions would be introduced.
The alliance that he had with his brother-in-law was strong, and he was grateful for it. He had hardened his heart against everything. Everything but seeing to Annick’s safety. Shoring up the borders of the country. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
And he... He had been a fool. A fool to believe that he could let the beast out. That he could somehow let his guard down for even a moment. Yes, he had been a fool.
He was not even bothering to pretend that he was the man he’d been in California, not anymore. He had transformed. And there was something comfortable about the position. About being a war general.
He was grateful his family had not remained in the country to see the shift, for his energy had to be devoted to this, to her, and he did not have time to waste answering their questions.
Someday, he supposed, they would have to talk.
What mattered now was Annick.
And it distracted him from the tearing weight in his chest over the distance between himself and his Queen.
It was essential. There was nothing else to be done.
He had used not only the political connections that he had through his brother-in-law, but also business connections that he had through his other brother-in-law and best friend. If he could truly call anyone a friend.
Dante must have sensed his black mood, and those sentiments, because it wasn’t long before he showed up at the palace unannounced.
“And where have you left my sister?” Maximus asked, looking at his friend.
“At her new castle. With her pony. She’s very happy.”
“You indulge Minerva.”
“I live to indulge Minerva. She was not indulged enough in her life, and frankly, neither was I. Between the two of us, we live an extravagantly spoiled life. She has books and libraries and runs her charity. I have access to her body whenever I want...”
“You seem a smart man, Dante, and yet you have not picked up on the fact that it is not a good time to test me in any regard.”
“Oh, no, I did. It is only that I want to know why. Black moods are typically reserved for me.”
“No, it’s just that I usually hide mine.”
“Fair. What is going on? I don’t blame you for tearing a swath through the world after that attempt on your wife’s life. But what I do want to know is why you’re behaving in quite this way.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Isn’t it? I am your oldest friend. Your only friend. Don’t think I haven’t watched you fake your way through life all these years. I know that you changed when Stella died. And I might not know all the particulars of it, but you lost yourself. You became only that shallow playboy. Though you were never only that. This... This is actually more the real you. You being an asshole, that is.”
“A very good friend you are.”
“It’s true. So tell me. What is it that’s going on?”
“She brought me here to protect her. This is not a love match.”
“Well, I say bullshit to that. It’s obvious that she loves you.”
He gritted his teeth. “She does.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I can’t love her.”
“You can’t love her? This is your version of not loving somebody?” Dante chuckled. “I’m surprised literal heads haven’t rolled over this. You’re on a warpath, my friend. If this isn’t love, what is?”
“Justice,” he bit out. “Nothing more than justice.”
“Is that so?”
“You’re reading into things that are not there.”
“Why not love her?”
“Because it’s too dangerous. I let my guard down with her. She was nearly killed because I...because I spent the night with her hands tied over her head driving her mindless with pleasure, and then she said she loved me and I was consumed in my own feelings, too much so to pay attention to what was happening.”
“I’m sorry—are you blaming sex and feelings for the fact that someone tried to assassinate her? Because her feelings are not what caused someone to attempt that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I was complacent the day that Stella died too.”
“You could not have protected Stella. You didn’t know what was coming.”
“I should have,” he said. “I should have known. I should’ve done something to save her.”
“But you didn’t. You couldn’t have. Hindsight is all well and good, Maximus, but it doesn’t change the past.”
“People lie to you about who they are,” he said. “They lie to you and then...and then it only puts those you care about in danger.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My father...he’s not everything he appears to be.”
“Your father rescued me from a life of... I would be dead by now if it weren’t for your father.”
“I know. But Stella is dead because of him. Because of his choices.”
“If you have a problem with your father, you should talk to him.”
“There’s nothing to say. There is nothing to say except that actions he made in business created enemies who destroyed my life. And I could never... I could never look at him the same way again.”
“Is this about your grief over Stella’s death? Or is it about anger toward him? Him disappointing you and abusing your love?”
That made him stop. “It’s not.”
“I don’t know that I believe that. You should talk to him,” Dante said.
“We’re not a family that talks about their feelings.”
“Well, maybe it’s high time we did. Because I can see now, Maximus, that you have been living in some kind of private hell and I let you. What kind of friendship is that?”
“Your friendship is not the issue here.”
“Well, perhaps it should be.”
“This is not your concern. I can handle this alone.”
“Clearly you can’t. And speaking as someone who lived under a shroud of their own darkness for a very long time, I can tell you that you shouldn’t have to. Minerva saved me. Loving her saved me. You can laugh all you want about castles and ponies, and you can recoil in horror at the fact that I’m sleeping with your sister, but I love her. I love everything about her. And she forced me to change. She forced me to heal. And it
was the cruelest, kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. She did not leave me to die in my brokenness. Your family gave me so much, Maximus, but not even your father’s caring, your mother’s love or your friendship healed me. It was Minerva, and the way that she demanded I love her back. She was the one that changed everything. That fixed everything. It was her love. So if you found a woman that is demanding you give her your heart, then you damn well do it. And if something stands in your way, that is the thing that you should destroy, not the love that could be between you.”
“You don’t understand what kind of man I am.”
“I don’t need to. Does she understand what kind of man you are?”
“She says she does.”
“So listen. Believe her.”
“Why should I?”
“Because the other choice is a life lived alone. And believe me when I tell you it’s not even a half life. Because I’m standing on the other side of it, and I’m telling you.”
“Her whole family died. And she says she loves me. The world treated her in the worst possible way, and she still loves me. And I...I was betrayed and I just... I spiraled into darkness, and I think I might like it there. I think I might not have the strength to walk back out. Because when you live in the darkness, nobody sees what you do. You don’t have to be accountable for anything. For anyone.”
“I can see the appeal. But what’s the point of it?” He looked around the room. “Why did you come here in the first place?”
“Because she needed help.”
“And that mattered.”
“I don’t know why in hell it did. Only that it did.”
“I think you do know. It’s because even then she called to your heart. Because even then you cared, whether you wanted to or not.” Dante stared at him. “Talk to your father.”
And then his friend was gone, as if he had not flown across the world to see him. A part of Maximus wondered if he had hallucinated the entire thing.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, and he started to take a drink. But then stopped. He stared down at the amber liquid. And then he reached for his phone and called his father.
“Hello?”
“I blame you for Stella’s death.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I know you do. I blame myself. Because it was my fault.”
“But worst of all, I hate that I idolized you and you didn’t live up to it. I don’t know how I can ever trust anyone or anything ever again. Especially because...in the end, I’m not any different than you. I’m two different men. I don’t know how to reconcile that with anything.”
There was nothing but the sound of broken breathing on the other end of the line. And when his father spoke, his voice was heavy.
“I failed you, Maximus, and nothing has ever brought me greater pain. Everything I did was for our family. For our betterment. And I’m responsible for the death of the woman you loved. I hate that. I hate how short my focus was. How arrogant I was about my own resilience. How I might’ve felt like I was untouchable, but didn’t take into account the fact that my family was not. And that my family made me vulnerable. But...I’m not two different men. I am one. I’m very flawed. I care about the people in my life, but I can get blinded by my greed. By opportunity. I have a difficult time saying no. It’s why I’ve engaged in business deals I should’ve walked away from. It’s why I... That in the moment sometimes I forget my own principles. Because it’s easier to say yes to what’s right in front of me. Since Stella’s death I’ve been better. But it doesn’t take away what I did. It would be comforting to think that I was two men. But I’m just one broken one.”
It was the strangest thing. That realization. Maximus remembered how he had felt in Annick’s arms. Like he was one. The man and the beast. It had been comforting in a way. Even though in another it was easier to believe that one man was real and the other was a facade. Whichever felt better at the time.
Annick was the only one who knew. She saw him as one, and she claimed to love him anyway. She saw him. And she made him want to know what it would be like if he let go of everything that had happened in the past. Of the betrayal of his father, the loss of Stella and every black act he’d committed along the road to this point and accepted it. If he let go of the flaws in the world.
And knew the fact that he could never really quite balance the scales.
He had killed the man who had imprisoned Annick. Had removed him from power. Had set her free, but it didn’t erase what had happened to her.
You could never erase the bad things in the past. You could only go forward. Otherwise... It was like Annick had said.
Seeing bars where there weren’t any.
“How do you live with it? How do you live with the flaws inside of you? How do you move forward?”
“I didn’t have a choice. I love you. And Minerva and Violet. And I love your mother more than anything. And I have to live with myself. So there comes a point where you simply have to do just that. Live. Even if things don’t seem fair. Even if the world is broken. Even if you are.”
“I don’t deserve her.”
“I don’t deserve your mother. I don’t deserve the fact that you still speak to me, Maximus. I never have, and I don’t take that for granted. I don’t deserve Dante’s loyalty, or Min and Violet’s devotion. I can only accept your love. Because it’s the only thing that makes living worth it. It’s not the money. It’s you.”
It was the strangest thing. Because the world was still as it was, and his father had still made the mistakes he had. But there was a deep acceptance inside of him now that hadn’t existed before. The world was broken and he couldn’t fix it.
But he could love a woman who lived in this world. And she could love him. And with that love it was possible that they would make things better than he ever had with vengeance. Than he ever had with darkness.
There were no scales.
There was no cosmic scoresheet. There were tragedies. And there were triumphs. And there was right and wrong, and justice to be sure.
But mostly, there was love. And with love you could blot out a multitude of sins. If you were only brave enough to try.
“Thank you,” Maximus said. “For helping me see.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’m not who anyone in this family thinks I am.”
“We should talk about it. Sometime. When you’ve settled things with your wife.”
Maximus nodded. “All right. But I warn you that when you know the truth, you might not want me as a son anymore.”
“Maximus, you have wanted me as a father in spite of my frailties. I could never not want you as a son.”
Maximus hung up the phone and sat there for a long moment. Then the strongest, sharpest pain he’d ever felt pierced his chest. It was like dying. But he was still alive. Everything that he had tried not to feel since the attempt on Annick’s life assaulted him then. It was no longer just anger. No longer a desperate need for revenge. He had nearly lost her. He had nearly lost her without ever truly having her. He had nearly lost her without ever telling her that he loved her. Without ever letting himself feel it. It was not protection. It was foolishness. It was fear.
And fear was a great liar.
He was gasping for breath now, barely able to.
He had told her he didn’t love her. His Annick. He had hurt her. She had already been hurt so many times.
He did not deserve her. He didn’t.
He doubled over with that knowledge. With that pain.
But she had said that she accepted him. All of him. Everything that he was.
Why? How?
He didn’t have the answer.
But as he lay there, stunned by the full force of these emotions, he knew that it didn’t matter why.
Because it wasn’t fair.
Nothing about life was.
Not the childhood Annick had spent in the dungeon, the death of Stella or the fact that Annick loved him. Knowing all that he was.
None of it was fair.
It was better than fair.
It was love.
* * *
Annick was fed up with her own frailty at this point. She had lived through unimaginable cruelties, and she had not fallen apart. But that was the problem.She had not had the time then. Now she was safe, well taken care of and feeling quite ill-used. And she now had the luxury of reveling in it.
She missed Maximus. She missed everything about him. And she was ready to bind her own wrists and present herself in his bedchamber as a gift. For him to unwrap.
“Have a bit of pride,” she said to herself.
She did not want pride. She wanted Maximus.
She lay across her bed, and as if her dreams had conjured him, there he suddenly was. Strong and silent and standing in the doorway, and she remembered what she had thought when she had seen him there in the dungeon. It was no longer bars, but him. He was not a prison, but a strange sort of freedom. A path to the center of herself. To all of her desires.
A man who was strong enough to take her anger, her grief, her joy, her pleasure.
A man who felt created most especially for her, but he did not seem to want to see it.
“What is this?” she asked, sitting up. “Are you here to brief me on military procedure?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m here to tell you... I’m not worthy of you. And I’m... I’m not two separate men. There’s no monster in me. Just me. And it’s been easier to pretend that I had a life in one place that was all its own, and a life in another that belonged to someone different. But it’s all me. I took those missions because it was easier to do something than sit in grief. Because I was afraid of what I might do with my anger if I didn’t channel it into something specific. I kept my old life because I still wanted to be near my family. Because I still loved my father even though I was angry with him. And I never chose another person to love because I never even knew what love was.
