“I was handling it.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess, but if you thought walking a few feet away was enough to deter the bastard, you need more than a bodyguard. You need to be kept at home where you can’t make stupid-fucking-decisions.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to cram them back in and lock them down in a vault. He hadn’t meant that. His anger, although mellowed, was still simmering in the background. He never fully got rid of it, and why would he? It gave him the edge he needed to do his job.
He opened his mouth to apologize, but Casey stood and left the living room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Quietly.
Fuck.
He would’ve preferred screaming and slamming doors. Quiet was dangerous. He knew that from experience.
Not that he thought Casey was going to go nuclear on him.
But quiet anger somehow had the ability to scream the loudest.
“Fuck.” Bringing the glass back up to his lips, he drained the rest of the clear liquid, then poured himself another.
Chapter Five
Casey woke the next morning feeling like something was broken. It wasn’t a piece of furniture or a mug in the kitchen or anything. It was the kind of internal broken she’d always sworn she didn’t have. She was stuck in a place where she wanted to find love again but was too afraid of losing the memories of Saxon’s touch. She was stuck in a limbo of her own creation.
And why the hell was she having these feelings now?
Because of her stupid-ass, hard-headed bodyguard asleep in the other room.
She hated everything he represented. Repression. The patriarchal running of the pack. Her brothers and their happiness. Her inherent brokenness.
Because without her brokenness, she wouldn’t be in the human world trying to get an education. She didn’t really care about her teaching degree, although she had tried to convince herself of that. No, what she was really doing was trying to be okay with her loss. She’d lost the life she thought she might have. Firstly, as an enforcer, and secondly, as the mate of the male she had loved.
Everything.
She was lost, and no matter how hard she tried to patch herself up, put on the life preservers, and go back out into the ocean called Life, she always ended up with a hole in the stern and no lifeboat to cling to as the ship went down.
She didn’t know what else she could do. She thought her freedom would bring her the joy she wanted, the anchor that would keep her in safe harbor, but it turned out that wasn’t true. If she couldn’t be an enforcer, a mate, or even a regular college student, then what the fuck was she and why did she bother trying?
Oliver had tried to make her see there was more to life, that she had more to live for, but when your whole world is blown apart in the space of a few minutes, it’s a fucking bitter pill to swallow.
Getting herself vertical, she shuffled her legs off the side of the bed and cringed when the damn mattress squeaked again. The new one was coming in a few days, and she couldn’t wait. Padding into the bathroom, she washed her face, relieved herself, then tied her hair up into a loose knot at the top of her head. It was Sunday––the day of rest––and that’s what she intended to do. Rest and probably unpack her suitcases since she didn’t do it yesterday.
As she stood in front of her mirror, she ran her eyes over her face. Her cheeks were looking hollow, the bags under her eyes more pronounced. She was in a hole, and it was getting deeper. She didn’t want to be here. Instead of thinking about the circling depression, she went into the kitchen to make some coffee. She’d just got the thing running when Maddox’s bedroom door opened, and he stepped out.
Holy shit.
Casey shuffled backward until she was in the corner of the kitchen, totally not hiding from him, but as he came into view, her gaze dropped to his bare chest. To the breadth of his shoulders. To the hard muscle of his pecs, his tight waist and sinful ‘V’ that led into his hips. His stomach was ribbed with muscle, and if he turned around, she knew those same lean muscles of his would be feathering out from his spine, filling out his shoulders and lower back.
Wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, he seemed to fill the space with his presence, sucking out all the air. He strolled toward the kitchen, his body mesmerizing her as he moved.
“Coffee?” she asked, surprising him by her presence if the flare of his eyes was anything to go by.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Let me go and get a shirt, though. I didn’t think you were awake yet.”
The idea that she wanted him to keep the shirt off was insane, so she poured him a cup of coffee, handing it to him as he returned, pulling his shirt down his torso.
“Thanks.”
She studied him as he took a sip. His face seemed softer this morning, but she wasn’t able to say why that was. Maybe it was because he was relaxed? Clearing her throat, she walked into the living room and turned on the TV, not really tracking what she was watching. When Maddox joined her on the other side of the couch, she turned her head in his direction.
She didn’t want to be attracted to the bastard.
He was hard and prickly and clearly had no desire to be her bodyguard. She understood that sense of duty, though, because she had it too.
“Still no plans for today?” he asked, eyes fixed on the screen.
“No. Nothing.” Somehow the idea of going out, of doing something was suddenly unpalatable.
So much for freedom, huh?
“Mind if I hit the gym, then?”
“No. I’ll just hang out here and unpack.”
He kept those gray eyes of his on her as he took another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you come with me? It’ll give you something to do, and I won’t have to worry about you so much.”
“You want me to come?”
His shrug was small, but it seemed to shout his answer. “Only if you want to. It’ll be easier for me. I’ll be able to relax into the workout rather than worry if someone is breaking into the apartment.”
“Right.” Of course. Casey took another sip of her coffee and got up. “Give me fifteen?”
“Sure.”
* * *
Twenty-five minutes later, Maddox led the way into the fighting gym that was only a couple of blocks away from their apartment. Casey looked around at the boxing ring that had been set up to the right of the reception area, then to the sparring mats directly ahead of them. There was one class underway on the mats, but the ring was empty.
“Ready?” Maddox asked, and she blinked, realizing she hadn’t been listening to any of the conversation he’d been having with the gym owner.
“Are you sure I can do this?”
“Why not?” Hiking the strap of his bag a little higher onto his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll picture my face while you pound the shit out of a bag.”
“I don’t have any gloves to start with.”
“I can lend you some.”
He led them onto the empty mats in front of the boxing ring and to five punching bags hanging from the rafters. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I can teach you.” He dropped the bag against the wall and crouched down beside it, yanking open the zipper and pulling out two pairs of boxing gloves and two bundles of rolled cloth that looked like black bandages. When he stood, he gestured for her hands.
Panic began to bloom, short-circuiting her body and making her sweat. She tucked them under her arms more tightly. “Is that something I can do?”
His lips thinned. “It is, but you don’t know how to wrap hands, and it’ll be faster if I do it for you… at least, this first time.”
Casey bit her lip as she thought about it. She hated bringing attention to her hands. He’d already made a comment about them, though. Granted he’d been so fucking wrong about it, she almost didn’t want him to see them again.
“Princess?” he said softly. “Not getting any younger here.”
Straightening her spine, she held out both hands to h
im and looked the other way. Her focus was on the wall on the other side of the gym. She didn’t need to see the look of disgust on his face. She already knew he didn’t like her. She flinched when one of his warm hands wrapped around her wrist, then turned to look at him when the pressure didn’t ease.
His eyes were a solid green as he growled, “What the hell happened to you?”
Casey tried to pull her hands away, but he held onto them tightly.
“Casey?” he pressed. “Who did this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.” This time when she tried to pull away from him, he let her go. “I think I’ll just sit and watch.” Folding herself down onto the floor, she tucked her hands and her ruined fingers into her lap and raised her gaze to his. Maddox’s wolf was still staring out, but the feeling of impending violence was waning.
She watched him get ready, trying hard not to notice how the muscles in his forearms moved sinuously beneath his skin. Settling back against the wall, she studied how he approached one of the bags, throwing jabs first, then hooks. The combinations evolved quickly, becoming more and more complex as he went. Soon, he was kicking too, using the bone of his shin as a weapon that made the sack of leather and sand sway on its metal links.
Maddox finally dropped his arms and undid the Velcro on one of his gloves. Pulling it off, he tucked it under his arm then worked on getting the other one off. He sat beside her, his sports bag separating them.
“You’re good,” she said.
“Thanks.” Maddox fished around for a bottle of water and cracked the lid.
“How long have you been boxing?”
“Muay Thai,” he corrected. “And for about ten years now, I guess.”
“What’s the difference between the two?”
“Boxing is just striking with your hands. Muay Thai is striking with hands and legs.” He leveled his gaze at her. “You should try it. It might give you some confidence.”
“I already have confidence.”
He eyed her as he unwrapped the fabric from his hands. “No, what you have is an attitude.”
“I don’t have an attitude. I have a personality. There’s a difference.”
He laughed, the low rumble in his chest making her blood heat just a little. Mentally, she chastised herself for being attracted to him. It was clear they had nothing in common. He wasn’t interested in her. She must’ve been out of her fucking mind to even be thinking of him as anything other than her brother’s employee.
Hauling himself onto his feet, he threw in the gloves and the bandage things inside the belly of the sports bag, then stared down at her. Planting her hands behind her, she went to haul herself up when his hand dropped into her field of vision.
“I got it,” she replied, pushing off and using her legs to get upright again.
Maddox shrugged and shouldered his bag once more. “You know, you don’t have to like me, Casey, but there is one thing I need from you.”
“What’s that?”
“Trust. I need you to trust me so that I can do my job properly.”
She wasn’t in the habit of blowing smoke up anyone’s ass, so she stayed quiet on the but-I-do-trust-you spiel. He hadn’t earned it yet.
“Do you think you can do that?”
“I could probably learn to trust you, but we’ve literally known each other for a grand total of about seventy-two hours if we count that first meeting. I don’t just put my fate in anyone’s hands, you know.”
The way he studied her made her uneasy, and she felt sure he was going to push for more information. She carried on out of the gym and turned in the direction of the apartment.
“Casey?” he pushed.
“I’ll try,” she bit back. “That’s all I can give you.”
Chapter Six
Maddox got a tighter grip on his bag and tried not to think about what he’d seen. Casey’s fingernails. He thought she’d just had the shitty glue on her nails from where false nails had come off, but he’d been wrong.
So wrong.
She had no nails.
All she had were scarred and deformed nailbeds.
And just like that, his wolf had surged and wanted to protect her with everything they had. The possession that had rolled through him was so fucking foreign to him, he’d gone back to his default mode of anger, unable to wrap his head around how painful it would’ve been for her. Her nails had been torn out of her fingers, and in turn, her claws. It didn’t leave her completely defenseless as a wolf, but it certainly was a disadvantage. No wonder her brother wanted her kept safe at all times.
Back at the apartment, he was about to excuse himself to his room when she said, “I’m going to be unpacking my stuff if you need me.”
Wordlessly, she brushed past him and shut her door.
Blowing out a deep breath, he hauled ass into his room, dumping his bag beside the dresser. Shutting himself in, he stripped out of his gym clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. He needed a shower, but he needed answers more.
Taking out his phone, he pulled up Hunter’s details and hit call.
“What’s wrong? Is Casey all right?” the other male demanded as he answered.
“She’s fine,” Maddox replied, slumping down on the edge of his bed. “I’m just checking in.”
“Oh… how is she doing?”
“Good. She went and bought a new mattress already.”
Hunter’s chuckle was filled with warmth, and Maddox would’ve given anything to have that kind of love from a sibling. Too bad for him his mom left before that could happen.
“That sounds like her. She can’t stand not sleeping well. Anything else to report?”
“Yeah, I wanted to ask about her nails.”
His statement was met by a whole lot of crickets.
“That’s something you’re going to have to ask her.”
He cranked his hand into a fist. “I did. She shut me down. I mean no offense, sir, but I need to know how this happened in order to keep her safe.”
Hunter blew out a breath, the sound of leather creaking in the background. No doubt the guy was gearing up to shut him down too. “She was abducted and tortured. The female who did it got one of her underlings to pull out her fingernails and made sure they’d never grow back.”
“Jesus Christ.” He could feel his anger rising to the surface. Hurricane Maddox looked to be a raging Category 5’er again. “When did this happen?”
“Almost seven years ago now. We’ve had her locked down for the last five, but a couple of years back, she indicated she wanted to go to college.” Hunter heaved a sigh—one that was edged with an emotion so strong that Maddox could feel ice settle in his chest.
“She lived at home and traveled there for classes with Oliver as protection. Oliver is mated now, and it wasn’t fair to have him trailing around after his kid sister. Casey said she wanted to live on her own for the remainder of her studies, which is where you come in. Casey wants more freedom. This is me giving it to her in a controlled environment. Any other questions?”
Maddox’s anger had fully drained out of his body now, regret and guilt filling the void. He hated that he assumed so much about her life, but when you had a shitty childhood and adolescence, it was easy to make assumptions about others. It was easy to assume they had it better than you because most of the time, they did.
Not this time, though.
Rubbing his sternum, he felt like he’d been hit in the chest.
With a hunting knife.
And a bullet chaser.
He muttered, “No. That’s all.”
“Good. I’ll get another progress report from you in a few days.” The alpha hung up, and Maddox lowered the phone. The truth of Casey’s past was still pinging around his skull when he finally got vertical and shuffled out into the hallway to use the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he began the water, letting it heat up and get steamy.
When the air was thick with humidity, he stepped in and washed away the
sweat from his workout, his mind still whirring. Casey had been tortured, and the urge to find the bitch and work out his frustrations on this matter was a gnawing demand in his head. He wanted to defend his female.
Shit.
Not his female.
Casey wasn’t his.
She wasn’t anything like the females or women he usually went for, and even if he did look for one, it was only to dull his edge with a quick, hard fuck.
But as his wolf let out a snarl of displeasure, he knew only half of him believed that not-my-female horseshit.
Fuck.
Finishing off the suds-and-rinse routine, he turned off the water, snapped a towel from the railing, and wrapped it around his waist. Taking another one, he rubbed it through his dark hair and over his upper body. When he emerged from the bathroom, he went straight into the kitchen, needing a post-workout protein hit. He was busy making a smoothie when Casey opened her bedroom door.
She froze on the spot when she saw him, her green eyes bouncing from his face down to his chest and shoulders.
Fuck, he liked the way her eyes were on him.
Dangerous. So, so dangerous.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll just go and get dressed before I do this.”
“It’s fine,” she replied a little breathlessly. “We’ll be living together for the next two years. We’re bound to see a little bit more of each other in that time.”
Little did she know, he wanted to see a lot more of her, which was definitely wrong. She wasn’t for him. He was her bodyguard. Plus, there was that whole abandonment thing he wasn’t going to get into. Nope, no psychoanalysis for him today.
“I’d feel more comfortable with clothes on.” He excused himself, returning to his bedroom to throw on a pair of black nylon workout pants and a muscle shirt. Back in the kitchen, he found Casey right where he’d left her. “I’m making a smoothie. You want one?”
She shook her head. “No. I was just getting a glass of water.”
Stepping into the kitchen, the already cramped space felt like an elephant had squeezed in with them, sucking up all the air. He tried to ignore the way she smelled, the heat from her body, but all he could seem to do is feel and smell and hear her.
The Helheim Wolf Pack Novellas: The Complete Collection Page 32
