His End Game (MMG Series)

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His End Game (MMG Series) Page 1

by R B Hilliard




  Copyright © 2013 R B Hilliard

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0615918719

  ISBN 13: 9780615918716

  Getting married, giving birth and writing this book are among my biggest accomplishments….so far.

  Susannah and Sarah ~ Thank you for being with Ellie and Max from conception to birth and loving them as much as I do. Thank you for your incredible feedback, patience and generosity with your time.

  My Beta Babes ~ Susannah, Sarah, Laura, KC and Elizabeth – There aren’t enough words to express my thanks to you all for taking time out of your busy lives for Max and Ellie. I am forever grateful to you all for your invaluable input.

  Elizabeth Clark ~Thank you for creating such an awesome cover! I absolutely love it and can’t wait for the next one!

  Lisa Capps ~ Thank you for being my cover model and for allowing me to photograph you a million times. You make a hot Ellie!

  Martha Ann Krisko ~ Thank you for designing my website, marketing Max and Ellie and putting up with me!

  My husband and editor ~You may have blown past three deadlines, but you got.the.job.done! There are no words to express how grateful I am. You never doubted me for a second and proved, once again, that we make a great team. I love you to pieces.

  Stay tuned to www.rbhilliard.com. Piper and Gage are up next!

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Max McLellan appeared on my radar the very first day of my freshman year in high-school. I was standing at my locker wondering how I was going to get all of my homework done and cook dinner for my aunt later that night, when I felt an elbow in my ribs.

  “I’m ignoring you,” I told my best friend, Piper. She had been blatantly trolling the halls for cute boys for the past thirty minutes and I was having trouble organizing my locker while listening to her never ending commentary. Piper O’Connell and I had been best friends since fourth grade when she moved to Charlotte from Texas. With a head full of strawberry blonde hair and a smattering of freckles, she was extremely loud, very direct and the polar opposite of me. I loved her with all of my heart, but sometimes she was exhausting.

  Like right now.

  “Oh my,” I heard her say. “Ellie, you are so gonna want to see this.”

  Pulling my head out of my locker, I glanced at what held her attention. A group of guys were sauntering down the hall toward us. I rolled my eyes and was about to resume organizing when I spotted him. He had on black biker boots that were partially concealed under his faded denim jeans. A black t-shirt hugged him in all the right places. From what I could see, he had collar length black hair but, since it was peeking out from under a baseball cap turned backwards, I wasn’t able to get the complete picture. Naturally tan, his slightly bearded face was flawless. I stood there drinking in all six plus feet of this man looking boy and was disappointed that I couldn’t see his eyes behind his reflective sunglasses.

  What color are your eyes, beautiful boy? I really want to know…

  He was flanked on all sides by crazy hot guys.

  “It’s raining men, hallelujah” popped into my head and I tried not to laugh. Before breaking out into song and dance, which was way more Piper’s style than mine, the girl standing next to us chimed in.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they? It’s a shame that they are off limits.”

  “Nothing is off limits,” said Piper, her tone challenging.

  “Those boys are,” the girl insisted. “They go for hot older girls who put out.”

  “I put out,” Piper declared, clearly offended. This made me laugh.

  “Trust me, you do not qualify. Those boys would eat you up and spit you out.”

  Wow, she’s really serious. Maybe Piper should back off.

  Not at all interested in sharing my sexual status, I nodded my head in biker boy’s direction and asked, “Who’s the one in the middle?”

  “That,” she stressed, “is Max McLellan. He’s tough, but fun to look at.”

  I was about to ask what she meant when the first bell rang.

  Crap! I hadn’t finished my locker.

  “I’ll call RJ tonight and get the scoop,” Piper said.

  Richard James, better known as RJ, was one of Piper’s big brothers. He was a freshman in college, but since he didn’t go away until his junior year in high-school, he knew everyone at our school and if he didn’t, he could find out. He was our go to guy for information.

  The only thing RJ knew about Max was that he could kick some serious ass, was a chick magnet and liked older girls.

  Thanks for nothing, RJ.

  Throughout ninth and tenth grade I would see Max and his friends in the halls. They were enjoyable to watch and provided hours of fodder for my daydreams. Day in and day out I watched him. He was always either surrounded by his friends or a mass of girls. Every now and then I would catch him looking my way, at least that’s what I told myself and, each time it happened, it made my day. Yes, I was pathetic.

  The summer before my junior year everything changed. It was a Thursday and I had the day off from Providence, the café where I waited tables. I had my black polka dotted skimpy bikini on as I was going to lie out in my backyard. Carrying my iPod in one hand and my iced tea in the other, I was headed out the door when my phone rang. Seeing Piper’s name on the Caller ID, I hit the Talk button and said, “Put on your skimpiest bikini and come lay out with me.” I heard her sniff and instantly knew something was wrong.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Mom and dad are making me go away to school next year,” she sobbed. “They just told me that we are leaving in a few days to visit schools and that I will be going off this coming year. They won’t listen to me El. They don’t care that I don’t want to leave. They just want me out of the house so that they can travel and party without the hassle of having to deal with me.”

  Travel and party? Really?

  Richard and Marie O’Connell were two of the nicest people on the planet. They treated me like their own child and I dearly loved them. Coming from old money, they had both been raised in boarding school families where all of the kids went off to school in ninth grade. I was surprised that they let RJ, Rex and Piper stay at home through their sophomore year. I did not, however, voice this out loud. I was heartbroken. I was losing my best friend for the best two years of high-school.

  Three days later, I said goodbye to a depressed Piper and a morose looking Richard and Marie. By the time she returned a week later, she had chosen a school in Virginia and it was a done deal.

  Piper leaving weighed heavily on my heart. I didn’t want her to go away. I didn’t want to be left alone with my aunt. For as long as I could remember, Piper and her family had been my buffer. They were who I ran to when I couldn’t take anymore
criticism or negativity from home. Take them away and I was…alone. The only saving grace was my job at Providence.

  My aunt demanded that I get a job the summer before my freshman year in high-school. She believed that working would keep me out of trouble. Piper’s mom thought this was silly but, being her awesome motherly self, she introduced me to her friend Amy, who owned Providence. Amy, being laid back and extremely cool, let me pick up as many shifts as I wanted, whenever I wanted and, three years later, I held the title of the longest lasting employee.

  The week before the start of my junior year, I was working when a girl about my age came strutting in drenched from head to toe. The confident way she walked reminded me of Piper, who left a week ago for Virginia. It had been a long, lonely, rainy week without her. Shaking off my nostalgia, I sat the wet girl in my section and, since she was my only customer at the time, proceeded to chat with her.

  “Looks crazy out there,” I said, nodding my head toward the park. “What can I get for you?”

  “A beer?” She asked, winking at me.

  “Will a Coke do?” I smiled, immediately liking her.

  I discovered that her name was Josselyn Speilman but she preferred Joss. Like me, she was about to turn seventeen and was going to Myers Park High School. Her family had recently moved to Charlotte from Washington DC. I watched her ring out her gorgeous curly white blonde hair and felt a stab of envy. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two of us. She was the all American girl with white blonde hair and big blue eyes. Next to my long blondish brown hair and odd shaped golden eyes, she looked like a fairy. We talked for a while about the upcoming year before I had to break away and take other orders.

  I was cashing out a customer when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “I have to get going but wanted to give you my phone number, in case you ever want to talk or hang out,” Joss said.

  I walked her to the door, exchanged numbers and said goodbye. For the first time since hearing that Piper was leaving, I found myself looking forward to something.

  Piper decided not to come home for Thanksgiving, which I took personally. I had filled every second of every day since the first day of school with homework and work. The only enjoyment I allowed myself time for was watching Max in the halls, talking to Piper on the phone, listening to music and reading. I had been counting the days until Thanksgiving break and seeing Piper. When she told me that she was spending the week with a friend from school, it really shook me.

  I moped around for the first couple of days and then, not being able to stand it any longer, picked up the phone and dialed Joss. It wasn’t that I didn’t have other friends. I did. I just wasn’t interested in who was getting cheated on, screwed or dumped. I liked boys, a lot. I just didn’t plan my life around them. I had seen Joss in the halls at school and, like me, she seemed a little lost. I hadn’t made an effort to reach out and felt that it was way past time, so I called her up and invited her over.

  It turns out that Joss was a scary movie addict and she brought over a few of her favorites for us to watch. I practically hid under the sofa the whole time. We had just finished watching A Nightmare on Elm Street and were popping popcorn before watching Halloween, when she asked the dreaded question that everyone eventually asks me.

  “Is it too personal or can I ask you why you live with your aunt and not your parents?”

  It wasn’t that I minded talking about it. It was the look of pity that I received after telling my story that got to me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude of me to ask.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just that every time I tell someone, they pity me and I really hate that.”

  “Hey,” she said, “trust me when I say that your story can’t be much worse than mine.”

  Wanna bet?

  Internally sighing, I began. “My parents slept together in high-school and…oops…” I pointed to myself, “conceived me.” It was hard explaining my mom’s slutty tendencies, so I just gave it to her short and sweet. “Supposedly, my mom really got around. When she told my dad she was pregnant, he offered to pay for an abortion but only because he couldn’t deny that he had taken a turn on her merry-go-round and that there was a chance that I could be his kid. He got really angry when she told him that she was having me and, before I was even born, he left town. About a month before my birth, she decided that she didn’t want to be tied down by a kid after all, so she began adoption procedures. That’s when Aunt Elizabeth, my dad’s older sister stepped in and stopped her.”

  “So, your mom had you and gave you to your aunt?” she asked.

  “Yes, but she made my aunt go through regular adoption procedures because she needed the money.”

  Something my aunt reminds me of regularly.

  “What about your grandparents?”

  “Oh, they’re all long gone. My mom’s parents were around some when I was little, but I don’t remember them. My dad’s parents died before I was even born.”

  “Do you mind me asking what happened to your mom?”

  “She took off for California right after I was born.”

  “Have you ever tried to find her?”

  “No, she was killed in a car accident when I was four.”

  “God, Ellie. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” I shrugged. “It’s not like I knew her. It’s hard to feel anything for someone you’ve never even met.”

  “And your dad?”

  “Who knows? I’ve only seen pictures of him from when he was in high-school. He took off and never came back. I am his daughter, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “I look just like him.”

  “So your aunt named you Ellie?”

  “Ellison Elizabeth Davis.”

  “I like it,” she said, smiling.

  Talking to Joss turned out to be just like talking to Piper, easy and comfortable. Changing the subject, I asked about her family. She told me that she was the only child of parents who never wanted kids.

  Yes, they actually told her this.

  Primarily having been raised by nannies her whole life, she felt like her parents were more like housemates. They were incredibly wealthy and traveled all the time, leaving her at home alone or with house keepers. This made my aunt look like freaking Mary Poppins.

  I think because neither of us really had a sense of family or a lot of love in our lives, Joss and I related to each other. Regardless of her crappy upbringing, she had turned out well and I was glad that I had made a new friend.

  The morning of my seventeenth birthday started like any other day. I woke up and made my way downstairs for my usual pop tarts or frozen waffles. I was floored to find a plate of piping hot eggs and crispy bacon waiting on the table for me. I was looking around, making sure I wasn’t in my next door neighbor’s house, when my aunt came walking out of her office.

  “Happy Birthday, Ellison.”

  I hated when she called me that and instantly wanted to correct her but didn’t want to start a fight. She seemed to be trying, so I let it go. “Thanks,” I said.

  “Here.” She held out her hand. I wondered if I should shake it, when she produced a set of keys. “The time has come,” she cryptically announced.

  My aunt had never been one for words. She was a hospital accountant for God’s sake. I stood there waiting for the rest of her sentence. After a minute or so I gave in and asked, “Foooooor?”

  “You to have more responsibility.”

  Really?

  From where I was standing I had plenty of responsibility. I did all of the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning and, on top of that, was expected to make straight A’s.

  What more responsibility could she possibly give me?

  It turns out that my aunt had gone out and bought herself a brand new Cadillac. My new responsibility was the keys to her crappy old beat up diesel VW Rabbit that looked like it had barely survived the dark ages. At this point, a car was a car. This meant that I would
no longer have to bum rides from all of my friends.

  Thank you Aunt Elizabeth!

  My aunt was a strict believer in tough love, so the fact that she had given me a birthday present at all was huge. Of course, not feeling the need to overextend herself, she handed it to me with the gas tank empty. On my way to Joss’ house for cake, I stopped off at the corner station to fill up. Thank goodness one of the two places in the county that still sold diesel gas was right by my house. I was standing at the pump, thinking about how I could now drive to work instead of walking, when something across the way caught my eye.

  Max McLellan.

  He had on his usual worn faded jeans, tight fitting T and motorcycle boots. He was standing, foot propped up on the runner of his vintage Scout truck, talking on his cell phone. Yes, I knew the exact make and model of Max McLellan’s vehicle.

  Just call me stalker.

  Not wanting him to see me, I hurried inside to pay the cashier. Still in hurry mode, I flung open the door to leave and smacked right into him.

  “Shit!” I screamed and promptly covered my mouth with both hands.

  Of course, the first words that I ever speak to Max McLellan can’t be Hi or how’s it going? Nope, it has to be a word used for excrement. Nice.

  “You okay?” He asked, looking down at me.

  Wow, he looks good up close and….I knew that he was tall, but he’s really tall.

  Being a whopping five feet eight inches tall, it was rare that I looked up at anyone. So, needless to say, finding that Max was that much taller than me made me very happy.

  The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, forming a heart stopping smile.

  His eyes are blue with green flecks in them and, oh my, are those…dimples? How did I not know he has dimples?

  Thinking about all that was Max, I managed to nod and say, “Uh huh.”

  “Nice ride.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced over at my crappy car. “I didn’t know they still made those in diesel.”

  Of course, being shy and at that moment floored that Max McLellan was standing there speaking to me, I blurted, “You know, you really shouldn’t talk on the phone while pumping gas or you could blow the station up and for goodness sake, whatever you do, do not light up a cigarette.” The second I said it I wanted to take it back. I especially wanted to take it back when I saw his lips quirk.

 

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