Mary Ann. What would Amanda do without her?
“Can you stand now?”
Amanda nodded. “I think so.”
Max hooked his arms under hers and lifted her to her feet. He wrapped a silver Mylar blanket tightly around her. When she tried to peek around him to the street, he grabbed her shoulders, then reached up to lift her chin. He looked down at her as if peering deep into her soul. Amanda folded her arms across her stomach and pressed against the emptiness she felt there.
“Are you okay to drive?” Max asked.
She nodded wordlessly.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not sure about anything right now.”
“Go home and rest until I get there. We’ll take care of Chaos.” He stopped her. “And Amanda?”
Lifeless, she stared at him.
“This time listen. Go home.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and, after giving him a slight nod, began the three-block walk back to the Buick. She tightened the emergency blanket around her shivering body and refused to look back.
MAX WATCHED AMANDA walk away down the street. Her gait was stiff as if in a lot of pain. She was barefoot. In January.
The little fool.
He should have offered her a ride back to the car, but right now he was feeling anything but generous.
Well, she wasn’t the only one hurting. He couldn’t get the picture of Greg out of his mind—how he saw his beloved dog almost killed right in front of his eyes. It shouldn’t have happened like this.
Hell, this shouldn’t have happened at all.
Here Greg was—still looking for his mother because he couldn’t understand her death. And now his companion had been seriously hurt…hell, almost fatally injured. Max didn’t know if Greg even understood the concept of loss, of death.
Hopefully Max’s mother could soothe him, calm him down, and get Greg’s mind off the tragedy that just happened.
Amanda, in her current emotional state, would be no help to her brother right now.
Damn her.
Damn her! How could she be so foolish?
He had told her to go home and wait.
Max crossed the street to where Marc was standing with an arm around a frantic Greg. After Marc settled Greg into the back of his cruiser, his brother had told him that, when Max had been busy with Amanda, Dunn had taken off, code three, lights and sirens, to the nearest animal hospital with Chaos.
With a numb shake of his head, he sent Marc with Greg off to his parent’s house. He sent the driver, who had narrowly missed Amanda, on his way also.
The other driver who hit the poor dog was waiting beside her vehicle, clearly shaken up. He took minimal information from the woman but checked to make sure that she was not injured and that there was no damage to the vehicle. He told her he would write up an incident report. He apologized for all the inconvenience, his voice sounding wooden and hollow.
He went through the motions of doing his duty, but the whole time he felt like he was being stuck with a hot poker in his gut.
The vision of Amanda almost stepping off the curb in front of that car was burned in his brain.
She could have been killed.
He held his hands out in front of him. They were still trembling. He made tight fists to control his weakness, and his mouth twisted grimly.
* * * *
Amanda blinked, trying to clear her head.
She had come straight home like Max told her to. She had drawn the shades to darken the bedroom. Then she had curled up in bed, closing her eyes, trying to keep out the world.
It didn’t help.
The cool washcloth she had placed on her forehead earlier was now warm. She dropped it on the floor beside the bed in disgust. That hadn’t helped either. The pounding in her head wasn’t subsiding. She didn’t think that a whole bottle of aspirin would even alleviate it.
Amanda heard a slight tap on her bedroom door.
She pushed herself up as Max stepped into the room, his unmistakably tense body filling the small space at the foot of her bed. His uniform gave him an air of authority and severity. And his expression was just plain unreadable.
She had expected to see concern, maybe even sadness, in his face. But his expression revealed nothing.
“Greg?”
“Unharmed but devastated.” His words were tired.
“Chaos?” she asked hopefully.
“When I was dealing with you, Dunn showed up and rushed him to the vet. Last I heard he was in critical condition. We’ll know more later after some tests and most likely some surgery.”
She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears.
She was lucky that Chaos hadn’t been killed instantly. And he was still critical; she was sure it could go either way at this point. Amanda hoped for Greg’s sake he didn’t lose his dog so soon after his mother.
“It was stupid. Stupid! I had told you to go home. I told you to go home and wait.” Anger wasn’t even accurate; it was hurt and pain and fury. “But you didn’t. You are a spoiled little brat that thinks you can do whatever you want. You don’t have to listen to anyone. You could have gotten yourself killed. You could have gotten Greg killed, and you certainly got Chaos critically injured.”
“I only wanted to help find Greg.” Her voice trembled.
“When are you going to learn? Are you ever going to be responsible enough to care about anyone but yourself?”
His words hurt. But they were true. She was ashamed and sad. But mostly disappointed in herself.
She desperately fought her own anger that bubbled up. Anger at herself. Anger at the man who judged her from the end of her bed.
She lost the fight.
“I didn’t want to come to this town in the first place. I want my life back!” She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. “I miss my life. I miss my friends. Heading out to Starbucks late at night or heading to the beach to work on my tan or hailing a taxi to head downtown to the shopping district to blow my rent. My life is now reduced to shopping at Sears. What happened? How did it get to this? I don’t belong here!”
“Apparently.” The lone word slashed her deeply.
“Get out,” she screamed hysterically, her brain wanting to pound right out of her head. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
Her head pounded as she saw Max close his eyes and his whole body shudder. A mix of emotions crossed his face before he looked at her again. His eyes had softened, and the tightness in his body was gone.
“Amanda…”
No. No. No. She couldn’t take his sympathy right now. If he softened, so would she, and she would only break into a million more pieces.
She needed to be alone right now.
“Just go,” she whispered.
And he did.
MAX RUSHED DOWN the steps, taking two at a time, the items on his bulky duty belt banging into his thighs and hips.
His nostrils flared as he sucked in deep breaths, trying to control his emotions. Hell, just trying to get back into some control at all. As a cop he dealt with these types of incidents practically every day. But this wasn’t just any typical incident. This was Amanda. Watching her almost get hit by that car…
His heart felt as though it had been ripped out of his chest.
With heavy, long strides he walked through the small house and out the front door. He felt disappointment as he slammed the door behind him. Even though he had shut it hard enough to rattle the front windows, it hadn’t given him any satisfaction, any relief in the pit of his stomach. He started for his patrol car but then abruptly turned and walked back to the stoop. He caught himself from going back inside and right back up those steps to her bedroom.
He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to give in.
He tightened his jaw. She needed some time. He needed some time. To process, to collect themselves.
He clenched his fists and began to pace back and forth on the front sidewalk.
He heard
a rustle and looked over. Mrs. Myers was on her porch, leaning over the rail. Of course, watching him act like a fool.
“What’s going on, Max?”
What the hell, not now. Max gritted his teeth. “Nothing, Mrs. Myers. Why don’t you go on back inside? It’s a bit chilly out here. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
Mrs. Myers’ fists plunked onto her meaty hips. “There always seems to be some sort of raucous going on over there. That girl has been nothing but trouble since she’s come here. Someone needs to take that boy out of her care.”
Max sighed. “She’s doing the best that she can, Mrs. Myers.”
It was true. She was doing the best she could. She wasn’t perfect. Life wasn’t clean and neat. Shit was always going to happen. But, damn… Today had just ripped him open and turned him inside out.
Marc rolled up in the other patrol car. He slid open the driver’s side window as he pulled into the driveway.
“How’s Greg?”
Marc shook his head, a look of sadness shadowing his features. “Not good. He’s pretty distraught. Ma’s doing what she can.”
Max’s lips pressed together, and he gave his brother a nod. He glanced at his watch.
“I’m going home now to change. I’ll head over there as soon as I can and see what I can do.”
“All right. See you tonight.” Marc slowly drove away, giving Mrs. Myers a slight wave as he did so.
Mrs. Myers turned her attention back to Max. “What’s wrong with the boy?”
“He’s upset. His dog just got struck by a car.”
“Can’t say that’s a shame, that noisy thing.”
Max grunted and hopped into his car before he said something he’d regret.
* * * *
After showering and changing, Max headed over to his parents’ house. Once he was sure that Greg was coping, he stepped out onto the porch to get some badly needed fresh air.
The rumble of tires on the gravel driveway made Max step over to the porch edge to see who was coming. He recognized the gray Buick.
He was determined to head Amanda off. His mother had finally calmed Greg down somewhat, and he didn’t want all that work undone.
He jogged down the steps and over to the car, reaching Amanda just as she was climbing out. Max stepped in front of her, arms crossed and legs shoulder-width apart.
She wasn’t happy to see him. Well, he wasn’t so happy to see her over here so soon either.
“What are you doing here?”
She pushed her sunglasses up enough to brush a frustrated hand over her eyes. He got enough of a glimpse to see they were puffy and red.
“I came to pick up Greg.”
“That’s not such a good idea right now.”
She tried to step around him. “He needs me.”
“If you want to help your brother, you’ll let him spend the night here. My mother will take good care of him.”
She paused. “But—”
“Let my parents distract him tonight, get his mind off everything that happened. My pop can drop him off tomorrow.”
“He’s got day care…” The sight of her biting her lip in indecision was tearing down his wall.
“I’ll have him drop Greg off at day care tomorrow if he’s even up for it.” He reached out, enveloping her hands within his, pulling her close. He dropped his head down, resting his forehead against hers. “Amanda…what happened earlier…not just with Greg and Chaos—between us…”
Amanda stiffened, then jerked away. “Thank your parents for me. And thank you for getting Chaos to the vet.” She climbed back into the Buick. “I think it’s safe to say that we should just stay out of each other’s way.”
She was hurting. He saw that. Well, so was he. But she wasn’t thinking clearly. And he couldn’t just let her go. Not now. Maybe not ever. “You think so, huh?”
She nodded her head, her sunglasses slipping a little. Just enough that he could see her fresh tears. She pushed them back up.
“Well, does it matter that I don’t agree with you?”
He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to pull her out of the car and into his arms. His nostrils flared. No, he was not going to lose her.
“Fuck it!” He reached for her.
AMANDA LOOKED UP, surprised at his outburst. Before she could close the door on him, he was hauling her out of the car by her arms, kicking her car door shut.
She opened her mouth to protest but gasped as he lifted her into his arms and started striding with a determined pace to the nearest barn.
She struggled, pushing against his chest. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What I should do every time you’re a pain in my ass.”
He nudged the barn door with his shoulder and dumped her unceremoniously on a nearby stack of broken straw bales. He went back to slide the door closed and latched it.
Amanda pushed herself up to a seated position, struggling as her hands sank into the loose straw.
“Don’t even move from there.”
A shiver ran up her back. Fear? Maybe a little at the unknown, but it wasn’t all fear. No matter how many times they’d butted heads, she still wanted him.
“You really deserve to be thrown over my lap and spanked.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “You’re not going to do that.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
He dropped to his knees beside her, and she quickly started to scramble away.
He grabbed her hair, and the tug on her scalp made her still immediately.
She couldn’t tell if he was mad or frustrated or what.
She licked her dry lips. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” He scrubbed a palm over his short hair. “Everything. Jesus.” He reached for her.
“If you’re going to do it, just DO IT and get it over with!”
That made him pause. He blew out a breath. “You got it.”
He tugged her over his lap by the waist of her jeans. “Pull your pants down.”
What? No! He was crazy!
But…
She reached underneath herself and unsnapped her jeans, then worked the zipper down.
Max grabbed both sides and shoved her pants halfway down her thighs. She could feel the cool air on her buttocks. Her pussy clenched, and she struggled to keep from grinding against him.
“Just do it,” she moaned and dropped her head against the straw.
He was rock hard against her hip. His hand spread across her ass. Heat against her cool skin. Goose bumps broke out over her body, tightening her nipples to hard points.
His hand disappeared, and she waited for the sharp sting to come. And she waited. Seconds felt like minutes.
She turned her face a little. He was just staring at her. His face unreadable.
“You want me to spank you, don’t you?” Not even a question.
She turned her head away from him. “No.”
“Little liar.”
“I’m not—”
Whap!
She jerked across his lap, his hard length digging deeper into her hip.
“Ow!” She went to rub away the sting, but his voice stopped her.
“No.”
Whap!
Her other butt cheek stung. She rose up on her arms and turned to look. Both cheeks had a red mark on them.
She looked up at Max in disbelief. His eyes were dark, his nostrils flared.
“You spanked me!”
He grabbed her hips and lifted her enough so he could move behind her. He tugged her jeans a little lower, making some space between her thighs.
“You loved it.”
“No!”
He wrapped an arm under her hips and pulled her ass against him. With his free hand he undid his jeans enough to get his cock out.
“You loved it. You wanted more.”
“No!”
“I can see how wet you are, Amanda. I know you want me inside of you.”
No. But she cou
ldn’t say it out loud. Because it was a lie. She wanted him inside her. Him spanking her surprised her more than hurt. And it made her so wet.
She felt empty, and she needed him to fill her up.
His fingers stroked her pussy, then over the red marks on her ass. Back to her pussy. He dipped them and smoothed the wetness over her pussy lips. He did it again and again. A rhythm that was slowly driving her mad.
His fingers were replaced with the head of his cock. He stroked her with it, rubbing her wetness over himself, teasing her opening with just the tip.
Every time it was right there, just right there, she tried to push back against him, wanting to sink onto his length, but he’d pull back, just far enough for her not to succeed.
She let out a frustrated scream. “Are you going to fuck me?”
“I am.” He leaned over her and nipped at the small of her back. He gripped her hip to hold her still. “Are you ready for me?”
She hissed “yesss” at him.
She felt the head of his cock right there again. At her entrance. Any second now…
He asked, “Are you sure?”
Her answering “Fuck you” morphed into a long “fuuuuuck” as he seated himself deep within her. Her back arched against the pressure of his length bumping her cervix. He was so deep.
He hadn’t moved though. Her muscles squeezed him, feeling how full, how hard he was. The pulse at the base of his cock was strong, beating against her clit.
Why was he not moving?
The longer he stayed still, the greater the need grew for her to start thrusting against him. She wanted to come. She needed to come. She needed to lose her mind in an orgasm to drive out everything else that had happened today.
She just wanted to be in that moment. That second. That millisecond.
She turned her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted, and his fingers white from gripping her hips so hard.
“Max…”
His eyes opened, their gazes met, and he finally gave her what she wanted.
He shoved into her. Pounding her. Over and over. A grunt from her, from him.
There was nothing romantic about it. It was raw and angry. It was what she needed; it was what he gave her.
He didn’t let up, stroke after hard stroke. He was punishing her in his own way, letting out his frustrations with her. She was accepting every thrust, meeting them, taking him as deep as he could go. She was punishing herself.
Brothers in Blue: Max Page 12
