by Jolie Day
Max pressed a kiss to her shoulder as he untangled their bodies and slinked toward the bathroom, taking care of his business and washing his face, before returning.
Regina was sprawled across the bed now, taking up all available space and Max just leaned against the doorjamb, watching her with a grin on his lips. She was truly beautiful like this.
“Stop staring,” she murmured, peeking one eye open at him, “it’s creepy.”
“I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do with you,” he teased, placing his body over hers in the bed.
“Don’t even joke,” Regina murmured and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips, before trailing them down her neck. “Mm,” she sighed. “Don’t stop.” Max smirked against her skin. Regina ran her hands through his hair and over his back, stroking a soothing pattern. The sound of birds chirping outside her window was slowly interrupted by the weekly garbage truck rumbling down the street.
They stayed like that for a long moment before she suddenly stiffened. “Garbage man,” she husked and Max lifted his head, giving her a strange look.
“What?” he asked.
“The garbage man!” she exclaimed. “That’s where I knew him from. He’s my garbage man!”
“Knew who? Why are you thinking about another man at a time like this?” Regina narrowed her eyes at him, pushing him away as she sat up. “What?” Max asked.
“There was a guy at the bar last night,” she said, reaching for her robe again and tying it on. “He was…strange. I thought he might try hitting on me or that he was there to hurt me or something.”
“Why would he hurt you?” Max asked, suddenly worried.
“Because he’s one of them,” Regina informed him. “A Hell’s Seven.”
“A Hell’s Seven was at the bar last night?” Max asked. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t exactly have the time or mind space,” Regina pointed out, motioning to her body, still mostly bare except for the robe that barely reached mid-thigh. “Are you complaining?” Max shook his head. “Yeah, I thought not. Anyway, he wasn’t the only one there. There was a whole group of them.” Max’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry, they didn’t seem all that antagonistic. They were just playing pool and talking. But that one…he kept staring at me. I was getting nervous until he told me he was looking for you.” At his look, she put up her hands in surrender. “I mean, I was still nervous, but for a different reason, you know?” She swallowed thickly and was silent for a moment, almost contemplating.
“Well?” Max urged. “What did he say?”
“He said to tell you…Thursday.” She furrowed her brow. “He said you’d know what that means. Do you?”
Max nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I know exactly what that means.” It was his turn to be silent now and Regina quickly became frustrated.
“Well?” she asked. “What does it mean?”
Max grinned up at her. “It means I’m going to get my chance. And I’m gonna take it.”
Chapter Ten
Regina
She couldn’t stop watching the clock.
Even as she poured shots and mixed drinks and attempted to carry on conversations with patrons and wiped down the bar and...
She just couldn’t stop watching the clock. She couldn’t stop counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until Max left, quite possibly for the last time.
2 days, 16 hours, 35 minutes, and 42 seconds left…
41 seconds…40 seconds…39…
“Dollface!” Regina jumped at the sound of the gravelly voice, turning her head in Jimmy’s direction. He lifted his brow and an empty shot glass. “I need another.” Regina nodded and reached for the scotch behind her, trying to control her breathing and the shake of her hand as she walked towards him, holding the glass steady with one hand and pouring the liquor with the other.
She longed to take a shot for herself, but she’d already been sipping a glass of wine for the last hour; she didn’t want to overdo it and start stumbling up and down the bar. She’d seen her father do it enough to know how severely it impacted business, so she reserved herself to the wine.
She looked up at the clock.
2 days, 16 hours, 33 minutes, 12—
“HEY!” Regina jumped back, nearly dropping both the bottle and the shot glass, looking up to see Jimmy backing away from the bar, his stool knocked over, his hands pulling at a scotch-splashed shirt. “What the hell!”
“I’m so sorry!” Regina exclaimed, placing the bottle back in its place and reaching for a cloth to dry up the $20 worth of shots she’d just spilled.
“What’s up with you tonight, kid? I’ve never seen you so distracted before.”
“I’m just…tired,” Regina sighed, shaking her head. “I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.” That was true for multiple reasons, but none that Jimmy had to be privy to. “I’m sorry about the shirt. I’ll pay for your dry-cleaning.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jimmy grumbled. “I’ve got twenty more just like it at home.”
“Then how about a free round?”
“That, I can do,” Jimmy laughed, righting his stool and hopping right back up. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a stained undershirt beneath it. He sighed, but didn’t seem to mind too much as Regina poured him another glass and tossed the cloth into a bucket of cleaning fluid. “Bottoms up,” he said, tossing his head back and downing the drink. Regina watched him with wide eyes.
“Are you okay, Jimmy?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you drink this much this fast.”
“I’m doing alright, doll,” Jimmy replied. “Just celebrating.”
“Celebrating?” Regina asked, with a soft smile. “Celebrating what?”
“Well, now, that’s for me to know and you to…well you know the rest.” He took a deep breath and let out a soft belch. “I’ll take another when you get the chance.”
Regina rolled her eyes and reached for the scotch bottle, pouring him another glass, before returning to the other end of the bar, where Max was now perched on a stool, watching her. He gave her a smirk as she got closer, but she pretended to ignore him, turning her gaze to a pair of giggling college girls. They were sharing looks with each other as their eyes flickered between Max and Brandy, who was walking around the pool tables and sitting area, seemingly avoiding returning to the bar.
“What a mess,” one of them whispered to the other, clearly audible to Regina, who cleared her throat. They jumped and turned toward her.
“Can I get you two anything?” she asked. “Because you’re taking up quite a lot of space.”
“You calling us fat?” the blonde huffed, placing her hand on her surgically enhanced breasts.
Regina tilted her head and gave them a sickly sweet smile. “Of course not,” she said. “It’s not my place to suggest dietary habits to impressionable young women, is it?” She leaned forward. “But, just between you and me, those stools aren’t really made of the sturdiest wood, so you might wanna be careful.”
The blonde huffed and the redhead jumped to her feet, grabbed her friend’s hand and started tugging her towards the exit. Regina gave them a tiny wave and a satisfied smirk, turning to Brandy as she approached the bar, carrying a tray of empty drinks. She was practically dragging her jaw as she watched the two bitches walk out.
“What did you say to them?” she asked, leaning in.
“She called them fat,” Max offered and Regina sent him a glare. “What? You did.”
“I did not!” Regina huffed. “I may have suggested that these stools weren’t strong enough to support their weight…while Jimmy was sitting right over there.” She motioned to her most loyal patron, who was sipping at his drink as he looked around the room, as always. “But I would never call anybody fat.” She smirked as Brandy reached across the bar to hug her.
“You are the best, Reg,” she sighed. “Those girls have always had it out for me.”
“It’s because they’re so jealous of your beaut
y,” Max offered.
“You’re so sweet,” Brandy cooed, pinching his cheek. She pressed her lips to his forehead and he grinned.
“Aw, shucks,” he said, teasingly. “You’re making an old man blush.”
Regina snorted and shook her head. “So, what can I get you, Brandy?” she asked.
“The boys said a dozen shots of ‘anything’ so…mix-n-match?” Brandy shrugged, leaning against the bar.
“Comin’ right up,” Regina said, reaching for the liquor behind her. She poured shots of tequila, whiskey, and bourbon, then handed the tray back to Brandy. “Make sure they leave you a big tip tonight, alright? Strut your stuff.” She gave Brandy a wink and the younger woman giggled, before heading back to the pool table, to the excitement of all the gruff men waiting for her.
“So what can I do you for?” Regina asked, turning to Max, who immediately gave her a sly smirk. “Shut up! You know what I meant, you perv.” She flicked his hand on top of the bar and he laughed.
“I’ll take my usual Whiskey Sour,” he said. “And maybe a quickie in the laundry room?” He wiggled his brows at her.
“One Whiskey Sour coming up,” Regina said, turning away with a roll of her eyes.
“And that other thing?” Max called out after her.
“Go have a quickie with yourself,” Regina retorted. “It’ll be over sooner.”
“Aww, what’s wrong baby?” Max teased, leaning over the bar. “You a little bit grumpy tonight?”
“I am not grumpy,” Regina growled, turning back with his drink in hand. “I’m annoyed.”
“At me?” She nodded. “What did I do?”
“It’s not what you’ve done,” Regina said. “It’s what you’re going to do in approximately,” she looked up at the clock, “64 hours.”
“You know why I have to, though,” Max sighed. “I have to keep my family safe. Keep Ray’s family safe. Keep you safe.”
“I’m not in any danger,” Regina insisted, through her teeth. She forced a smile at two of the patrons that had just approached the bar. “What can I get you fellas?” she asked.
She poured two shots of whiskey and handed them each a bottle of PBR, took their credit cards and opened a tab, before waving them away. When she turned back to Max, he was studying her, intensity in his deep brown eyes as he watched her. She furrowed her brow in annoyance and placed her hands on her wide hips.
“What?” she snapped, twisting her lips.
“You really think you’re not in trouble?” Max asked.
“Why would I be?” she huffed.
“Oh, I dunno,” Max deadpanned. “I was staying in the room upstairs in your bar. Now I’m staying at your place, in your bed…” He took another sip of his drink, hiding his pleased grin as Regina rolled her eyes. “And one of the Hell’s Sevens saw me outside your bar, taking out the trash. They’re bound to make the connection and it’s only a matter of time…” he looked down, playing with something on the bar that wasn’t there, just needing to do something with his hands to keep from reaching out for her right now. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate that. Not here. “If anything ever happened to you because of me, I don’t think I could live with myself.”
Regina softened at his words and reached out to place her hand atop his. “Nothing is going to happen to me,” she said, her voice low.
“You can’t possibly know that,” Max huffed. “You have no idea what these people are capable of. What CJ Alvarez is capable of. The kid is insane. He’d rather kill every single one of his men without a second thought, rather than admit defeat. He would kill you without blinking and I can’t take that risk. I have to end this thing, once and for all.”
“And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?” Regina asked, her eyes narrowed. “Just walk up to the man and shoot him in the face?”
“I was thinking more like the back of his head, actually,” Max admitted.
“And how do you expect to get away with that?”
“You’ll see,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “But I’d rather you have deniability so I’m not going to tell you my plan. I’ll see you at home later?”
Regina’s heart swelled stupidly at that and she prayed that there was no visible flush in her cheeks as she nodded and squeezed Max’s hand in return, allowing him to back away from the bar and head toward the exit. She watched him, fighting past the bile in her throat and the worried knot in the pit of her stomach.
She tried to convince herself that everything would be alright; that it would all be over soon. But even she knew that was bull.
*****
Max
She was right. He knew she was right. Going after CJ would likely not solve all their problems. It might not solve any of them. Worst-case scenario, it might even make things worse for him in the long haul.
But it would be better than the nightmares he’d been having.
Of his father’s dead body lying on the pavement, eyes wide and unseeing, chest completely still, limbs sprawled out around his bloodied body. Of his mother lying in that hospital bed, immobile, hooked up to a dozen machines just to stay alive, her tortured breathing and pleading eyes. She had only just recognized him as she took her final breath and that may have been the worst part about it. His sister, Carol, who had always protected him and loved him and wanted what was best for him. His sister, who deserved to have a life of her own, with a husband and children and the career of her dreams. His sister, who deserved to have people in her life, especially after just losing their mother. His sister, who could die in any number of ways, at CJ’s hands, and it would look like an accident. He dreamt of returning home, to let her know that he was no longer interested in revenge, to find her, fully-clothed, in the bathtub, her face submerged.
Or worse.
He’d already lost his parents to this monster; he would not lose Carol, too.
Or Regina, who’d become more important to him than he ever would have thought. She was closer to the danger, too. She ran a bar that the Hell’s Sevens knew about. She was linked to him in the most intimate of ways and it wouldn’t be long before they realized that. If he were found out by CJ before he could make his strike…
He didn’t like thinking about that particular “if”, but it was a reality that he couldn’t ignore.
And it only solidified his decision to do what he was going to do.
As Max walked around the corner to Regina’s place, he checked his hip for his gun, sighing in relief as he found it exactly where it had always been. Its presence made him feel safer as he passed by two rather large men in leather jackets, spiked bracelets and shaved heads. One of the men had a scar across his eye and the other had a gold tooth that glinted in the moonlight.
Max kept his eyes down as they passed and turned to look over his shoulder at their backs, sighing when he saw the plain black leather, devoid of skulls of any kind. He took a deep breath and turned to Regina’s apartment building, pushing the key she’d given him into the slot and moving through the door as quickly as he could. He smiled at one of her neighbors as they passed him; an old lady with a tiny dog. She turned her nose up at him in his leather jacket.
“Old broad,” he huffed under his breath as he made his way up the hall and unlocked the door to Regina’s apartment, stepping inside and shedding his coat.
She had a safe to the left, where she kept some of her mother’s old jewelry and “rainy day” money. She’d trusted Max with the combination—which surprised him—and allowed him to keep his firearm there.
Without turning on the lights, he turned straight to the safe and punched in the code. He was just about to open the door when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun and he spun around, raising his own weapon with one hand while flicking the light switch with his other.
Now that the room was illuminated, he could see the figure clearly and his heart pounded in his chest. Caesar Alvarez. Senior. He had an oxygen tank with him and was pressing his face into a mask, taking deep shuddering breaths, even
as he leveled his own gun at Max’s face. Max didn’t lower his gun, but he also didn’t turn off the safety.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Caesar took another long breath and lowered his mask. “I need your help,” he said.
“That’s how you ask for my help?” Max snorted. “Seriously.”
“You tellin’ me…if you saw me again…you wouldn’t have shot me…the second you saw my face?” He pressed the mask to his face and took another long breath. “I need…protection.”
“Good point,” Max conceded. “But you can lower your gun now.”
“So can you,” Caesar retorted, breathlessly.
“My safety’s on,” Max retorted. “My finger isn’t even on the trigger. Unlike yours.”
Caesar lowered his gun. “It ain’t even loaded,” he admitted, tossing it onto the coffee table behind him. Then he allowed his body to fall into one of Regina’s overstuffed lounge chairs, pressing his face into that mask and closing his eyes as he forced himself to keep breathing. Max watched him, placing his own gun back in its holster at his hip as he waited, patiently for the older man to explain.
Caesar Alvarez wasn’t much older than Max’s father would have been, but he looked like he was in his hundreds from the frailty of his body. He was mostly skin and bones, no muscles to be seen at all. His dark eyes lacked the fire that Max could so clearly remember. He looked simply defeated, his sickness taking over every fiber of his body. He could disintegrate right then and there and Max wouldn’t even be surprised.
“So,” he said, after a long moment, “you want revenge for your father’s death, do you?” Caesar coughed, his entire body shaking. “I had nothing to do with that, you know?”
“I don’t believe you,” Max replied, placing his hand on his gun.
“Well, you should,” Caesar coughed. “I have no reason to lie. I’ve got six months to live and breathing feels like torture. If you killed me right now, I wouldn’t mind. I’d welcome it, in fact. I’ve been wanting to die for years. It’s only a matter of time before I go, naturally.” He took another deep breath from his mask. “But if you killed me right now? My son would come after you and your girl.” At the mention of Regina, Max’s eyes widened. “Yeah, that’s right. He knows all about her. Knows all about your little mission to take him—and me—down for what you think we’ve done to your father.”
