Maddox ~ Melanie Moreland

by Melanie Moreland

  The knock sounded again, but I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure I could. I had drunk a lot, and I didn’t want to see anyone. In front of me were the pictures spread out on the wooden floor like a bad advertising graphic.

  Me, my face cold, determined. My pupils so wide, my eyes were black in my face.

  Jill on her knees, tied up, tears coursing down her face.

  A whip in my hand. Blood dripping from a mark on her shoulder.

  My hand bunched in her hair, a snarl on my face as I screamed at her.

  My erection, hard and evident behind the jeans riding low on my hips.

  The last one, of me driving into her from behind. Welts on her back, her face obscured from the camera, sweat dripping from my skin.

  They told a sordid story. One of pain and sex. Jill dominated, me in control.

  The pictures lied, because it was the exact opposite.

  But that wasn’t the story the world would hear—or see.

  I bent forward, squinting as I looked at the pictures. I tasted regret. Felt shame. Allowed the anger to emerge. I tightened my grip on the bottle I still clutched even though it was empty.

  Blackness edged in, my body giving in to the alcohol and exhaustion.

  As I succumbed, I heard another knock.

  As I slumped to the sofa, one thought was clear.

  Once Jill released the stain on my past, I would never hear that knock again.

  I woke, blinking and confused, in the dim light of the morning. The skies were overcast and heavy—much like my head. I sat up, tentative and already in agony. I clutched at my head, the pounding intense and unending. My stomach heaved, and I fought down the nausea. My phone was on the floor, discarded and dead. The photos lay there, reminders of what I had to deal with. I glanced at my watch, shocked to see it was past ten. I was late, hungover, and unreachable. I was surprised Aiden wasn’t at my door. I knew if he were worried enough, he’d have no qualms about getting Reid to hack in to my passwords to get into my apartment on the fancy system that he created.

  I gathered up the pictures and took them to my office, locking them in my safe. Slowly, I made my way to my bedroom and plugged in my phone. I swallowed three Tylenol with some water and stepped in the shower, ignoring my discarded clothes from the previous night. I didn’t want to think about her touching the cloth. I would throw them out later.

  The hot water felt good on my stiff shoulders, loosening the tight muscles. I dried off and sent a short text to Aiden and Bent, saying I was ill but on my way in. There were several missed calls and texts, but I ignored them. I dressed and took a cab to work, unsure if I should be driving yet. I made it to my desk, managing to get past Sandy who was busy on the phone as I slipped by.

  She appeared ten minutes later carrying a mug of coffee. She set it on my desk with a plate of dry toast.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. “Not hungry.” I cleared my throat, pushing the plate away as my stomach heaved. “I think I have a touch of food poisoning.”

  “Right. The twenty-six-ounce variety. Eat your toast. You’ll feel better.”

  I didn’t reply, and she flounced out.

  Aiden came in shortly after, frowning. “Mad Dog, you had me worried. Sandy says you’re hungover. What’s going on?”

  “I’m not hungover. I ate something that didn’t agree with me,” I lied. “Been up all night.”

  He studied me. “Right.” He clapped his hands, the loud sound making me wince. “The architect has the final mockups of Ridge Towers done. We’re seeing them in an hour.”

  I forced some enthusiasm into my voice. “Great.”

  “Richard is dying to see them so he can incorporate them into his designs.”

  “Okay. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

  “He’s coming here next week for another client. He’ll be in the office on Tuesday.” Aiden rubbed his hands along his thighs. “Bent is still wary of sending them on the internet. I keep telling him we’re fine, but he insists.”

  I huffed out a sigh. “It’s his company. He calls the shots.”

  Aiden frowned. “It’s our company, and I know that. I hope he can get past what happened and realize it was one man, with one goal—to destroy him. It’s not going to happen again. Our systems are secure.”

  I swung my chair around, staring out the window. “You never know when people are going to try to destroy you, Aiden.”

  He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was serious.

  “Maddox, are you all right? Do you need to talk to me about something?”

  “No,” I responded, not turning around. “Nothing.”

  I didn’t even hear him leave.

  Later, I joined in the meeting with the architects. After eating the toast, drinking two mugs of coffee, and taking more Tylenol, I felt better—physically. Mentally, I was still all over the map, but I fell back to my old habit of camouflage. I kept my face expressionless and my voice neutral. I smiled at the right times, offered suggestions and praise. I was enthusiastic about the scale model and the drawings that went with it showing the details. No one knew of the turmoil in my head.

  No one would, because I had to figure out a solution—on my own.

  Dee accepted my excuses when I texted her of my food poisoning. I told her I hadn’t even heard her knocks and apologized for worrying her. She told me she would check on me later. I knew she was waiting for me to extend her an invite, but I placed my phone on the desk without issuing one. I couldn’t face her.

  The next two days, I met with staff, went over budgets and schedules with them. I attended meetings and offered opinions. I ate lunch with Aiden. Teased Sandy. Spoke with Dee, although I didn’t see her. She hesitated at the end of every call, waiting. Waiting for me to tell her that I would see her tonight or make plans for the weekend. I wanted to. I was desperate to spend some time in her soothing company. To sip whiskey with her and talk about the flavor. To hear her low laughter and lose myself in her for hours.

  But I was afraid she would see past the mask I was wearing. I was having enough trouble hiding from Aiden and Bentley. They knew something was wrong. They knew me far too well, no matter what I did to hide my turmoil. I didn’t want them to know, but not being any closer to a solution, I began to think I had only one option.

  And it killed me to think about it.

  Thursday afternoon, Bentley strode past my office, his face grave. He didn’t stop, although I heard him tell Sandy he was gone the rest of the week and to cancel whatever was on his calendar. I frowned at his unusually brusque tone and departure.

  Aiden followed behind him, a folder in his hand. He looked weary and upset. He stood still watching Bentley leave, his shoulders drooping. He glanced into my office, and I lifted my eyebrow in a silent question. He came in, shut the door, and sat in front of me. There was only one thing that could have happened.

  “You found Jack?”

  He nodded.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  He shrugged. “The information wasn’t hidden. Simply put, no one had looked until now. With today’s technology, things can happen fast.”

  “He doesn’t want to see her?” I guessed, knowing Aiden was right. It would break her tender heart.

  “He’s dead.”

  I sat up straighter. “Shit.”

  “He has been for a long time.”

  “How?”

  “He died in an avalanche during a mountain climb in Alaska. His body was never recovered, but we traced his steps and he was part of the expedition.”

  “Surely, there are records? Why wasn’t Emmy notified?”

  He laughed, the sound bitter. “Yeah, bad ones, but we found them. His name was misspelled, but Reid and I pieced it together with the PIs. His passport was on him when he died. He left no next of kin information, and no one was looking for him. We used the pictures Emmy had provided and one of the guides, who survived, positively identified him.”

  “Shit,” I repeated myself.

 
; He shook his head. “Jack died about a year after deserting her. She’s been waiting all this time, thinking he’d come back, holding on to the idea she still had a brother.”

  “She can mourn his loss but know he hadn’t ignored her all these years. I think that will help her.”

  “Bentley is afraid what this will do to her. Her brother was her only family.”

  “No,” I disagreed. “Emmy is strong. She isn’t alone anymore. She’ll have the closure she needs, and Bentley will be there for her. He’ll help her through it. You know how much he loves her. He’ll make sure she’s all right.”

  He was silent, his head hung down, his hands clasped between his legs.

  “Aiden, I know this is what you feared. And I know you hate to be the one who discovered the truth, but Emmy wanted it. She’ll be okay.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “We’ll help both of them. We all will. Whatever she needs. That’s what friends do.”

  He stood, running the file between his fingers as he studied me.

  “That is what friends do when they are allowed to help.”

  I tensed at his words, knowing he wasn’t talking about Emmy anymore.

  “We’ll let Bentley tell us what she needs,” I stated, hoping he would drop it.

  “Will you ever tell me what you need, Maddox? Or are you going to keep letting whatever has you so fucking stressed eat you alive?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He shook his head sadly. “Another lie.” He walked to the door, his hand on the handle, gripping it hard. “I would lay down my life for Bentley. For you too. Given that I’m willing to do that, the least you could do is talk to me. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you.”

  “No. If you did, you wouldn’t be killing yourself.”

  Our eyes locked.

  “Sometimes, Aiden, you have to face things alone.” My voice sounded unconvincing, even to my ears.

  “And sometimes, you don’t. Figure it out, Maddox. I’m here when you do.”

  He left, shutting the door behind him.

  Dee

  I shifted the bags on my shoulder, fumbling to press the elevator button. The doors opened, and I stepped in, groaning in frustration when I realized I had pressed down instead of up. Resigned, I let the doors close, knowing I would have to wait for the elevator to return to the main floor anyway.

  I stepped to the back, lowering my heavy bags. Between the groceries and my bulging messenger bag, they were a lot to handle.

  The doors opened, and another passenger stepped in as I rummaged for my keys. I glanced up to ask the person to press my floor and froze. Maddox was in front of me, his back turned my way. His shoulders were stooped and his hair in disarray.

  Was he ignoring me? I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, and it bothered me more than I wanted to admit. He had told me the office was crazy busy, and on top of that, he wasn’t feeling well, but it felt more like an excuse than the truth.

  I cleared my throat. “Maddox.”

  He turned his head, and I gasped when his face came into view. His skin was sallow, and he had dark circles under his eyes. His scruff was thicker and he looked thinner.

  He hadn’t been lying—he was unwell.

  His eyes widened as he turned. “Dee, sorry I didn’t see you.”

  I stepped forward, cupping his face. “Maddox, what is it?” I asked, anxious. “What’s wrong?”

  He flinched at my touch, which horrified me, but before I could withdraw, he covered my hands with his, pushing them onto his skin. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine.

  “It was the flu. I’m getting better.”

  “You should have let me come see you.”

  He shook his head, stepping back. “I didn’t want you to get it. I’ve been laying low.” He leaned around me, pressing the button for my floor. When we arrived, he held the door open for me.

  I tapped my foot. “You’re coming with me.”

  A glimmer of a smile played on his lips, but he shook his head. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  I braced myself against the wall. “Fine. I’m coming with you.”

  He sighed and scrubbed his face. Using his foot, he stopped the doors from closing and grabbed my bags. “Okay, Dee. I’m not great company, but I’ll come for a coffee.”

  “You’re staying for dinner. You need to eat.”

  He followed me, his voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear his reply.

  “I need you more.”

  He dozed on the sofa as I made a quick dinner, throwing together a wonton soup with ginger and garlic. He refused whiskey, instead asking for water. I studied him as he’d walked around, finally settling on the sofa. He looked like Maddox, but something was off. His suit, although expensive and tailored, was plain and a dark blue. His shirt was white and his tie a solid gray. When he toed off his shoes, his socks were the same color. There were other things. The knot in his tie was slightly crooked, his top button undone. There was no pocket square and his cuff links were simple silver discs. Even his watch had a solid black band and face. Nothing bold or colorful. Maddox was dressed more conservatively than I had ever seen Bentley dressed—and that was saying something.

  He was also paler than I had ever seen him, and even when he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. They were tormented and anxious. He looked older than his years and exhausted.

  Something was very wrong, and despite his words, it wasn’t the damn flu.

  When dinner was ready, I carried in the steaming bowls and sat beside him, gently tugging on his arm. He woke, instantly tense, relaxing a little when he saw it was me.

  “Hey, sorry,” he mumbled, accepting the bowl.

  “No need to apologize,” I assured him, letting him continue to lie to me. “The flu takes a lot out of a person.”

  He nodded, tasting his soup. “This is great.”

  “I thought I’d keep it light for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  We ate in silence, and I was pleased to see a little color return to his face as he devoured the soup. I realized, whether it was the flu or something else, he hadn’t eaten much lately. I was glad I had made extra that he could take home.

  He set down the bowl with a smile. “That was delicious.”

  “More?”

  He slouched against the cushion with a sigh, his shoulders looser than they had been when he arrived. “Maybe later.”

  “Okay.”

  I took the bowls and returned with more water. Anxious to ease him, I sat on the end of the sofa and placed a cushion on my knee, patting it. “Come here.”

  He raised one eyebrow suggestively. “Isn’t that my line?”

  I tugged his hand. “Stop. Come here, Maddox.”

  He stood and shrugged off his jacket, then loosened his tie. He faltered when he realized his top button was already open, but he tugged the one below it open too. He tossed his glasses on the coffee table and lay down, face up, his head resting on my lap. He sighed as I ran my hand over his head, his body relaxing. I didn’t talk, but I smoothed my hand over his brow in a constant pattern. The longer I touched him, the more relaxed he became. His hands loosened, resting easily on his stomach. His shoulders lost their tension, and the tight lines around his eyes disappeared.

  Long moments passed, and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. I didn’t want to stop or move and disturb him. The intense satisfaction of knowing I was helping him in some way surprised me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed him. His smiles and laughter. His warm voice and bossy attitude. I had been restless and upset, worried and annoyed over his absence, but all of it vanished when he was near. I desperately wanted to know what made him look that way, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me until he was ready. I hoped he was confiding in Bentley or Aiden, because whatever he was carrying was too heavy to cope with on his own.

  An unexpected feeling hit my chest and I held my breath. I wanted to be that person for him. To share his troubles and ease them the
way I was doing right now. I had never wanted to be that person for anyone except my sister, and the feeling was different.

  I cared about Maddox. More than I should. But it was there, and although I wasn’t sure what to do about it, I knew it wasn’t going to change.

  His eyes fluttered open, the light blue of his gaze strangely vulnerable. I could see his hidden pain and fear, and I wanted to stop both. Wordlessly, I shifted, lowering my face to his at the same time he reached up, clasping his hand around my neck.

  Our lips touched. Tasted. Rubbed lightly, then fitted together seamlessly, and Maddox kissed me.

  It was nothing like any kiss we had ever shared.

  Maddox

  I felt the slight stiffening of her body and heard her sharp intake of air. Opening my eyes, I saw Dee leaning close, her eyes filled with a different emotion from anything I had ever seen her express.

  Wonder.

  Our gazes locked, and I had to kiss her. To feel her mouth on mine once more. Tasting her, breathing her in, I felt the rest of the world evaporate.

  Nothing mattered except this moment and this woman.

  We kissed endlessly. Deep and hungry. Light and sweet. Long passes of our tongues and gentle bites of our teeth. Her very oxygen became mine. I needed her to breathe, to survive.

  Our mouths never separating, I stood, swinging her into my arms. I knew the way to her bedroom, carrying her in the dark. In her room, I stood her on her feet, undressing her with gentle hands, refusing to break our connection. She pulled on my shirt, tugging on the buttons impatiently. I had no idea which direction my cuff links were tossed or how she managed to get my belt off, and it didn’t matter. Skin to skin, we fell to her bed, disturbing the pillows and messing up her pretty lace.

  I didn’t care.

  Dee buried her hands in my hair and wrapped her legs around my waist, holding me tight. My arms were steel cages keeping her trapped to my body. I needed to feel her all over me. To know she was real and to ground me to this moment.