Max (Ryan family Book 2) Page 2

  Chapter Two

  Skylar

  I was sitting on Melanie’s couch, in Melanie’s living room that was, of course, in Melanie’s house. I was out of my wedding dress, still wearing Max’s big black T-shirt and his grey sweatpants. I found out his name after he brought me to his home. He barely even looked at me as he thrust the clothes in my hands and then turned around and left the room without a word.

  Half an hour later, Melanie came to Max’s and took me to her home. And there I was, still wearing his clothes and wishing I was still with him. I sat in my friend’s house and just stared at the big, black folder open on the coffee table next to which was a forgotten mug of coffee and tried to think of what to do next.

  I was both excited and terrified of the possibility of what was in that folder becoming true. They were the sketches I made over the years of how I would design my home. But when I showed them to Nico, he nixed the idea, claiming it was too girly, and it hadn’t anything that interested him. If I didn’t see any other signs that we were not a good match, that should have been one that opened my eyes. I dreamt my whole life how my home would look and ended up building a career out of that dream. A fact he knew about as I told him the same. A fact he ignored. As he did with everything that had something to do with me. Nico also had a vision of how his life would look. That vision included me only as a breathing mannequin. And when I did do something that he deemed wrong, he would let me know. And I would end up in pain. More often than not, a physical kind of one. We had a dance. Nico and I did. The one we were very practiced at. He would do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. And if I didn’t fall in line, he would let me know. So, he went and did his thing. And I? I ignored everything he did to me and how much he ignored me and just kept going.

  God, it sounded sick, but I just wanted to belong to someone. And I was desperate to call someone mine, that I settled for a man who not only basically ignored my existence, but when he was aware I existed, he took his fists to me. When I told Melanie that I would throw the folder away, saying goodbye to my dreams, she took it away. The folder was waiting for me on the coffee table when she got us here. I knew what it was at first glance. I didn’t want to open it. I knew I had to just keep going. But in all that keeping going stuff, I never got what I wanted, and I didn’t even know how to reach for it anymore.

  It all started when I was five years old. You wouldn't think it possible that someone’s life would turn so much at such a young age. But I’m living proof of that. I don’t remember much of the time. I only have two other memories from that period. And they’re blurry ones. One thing, though, followed me everywhere. I don’t remember what I was doing that day. What cemented its place in my brain was my aunt crying uncontrollably and my uncle’s distraught face. I remember thinking the team he cheered for must have lost the game and he was really, really sad about it. That was until he reached for me and gently placed me to sit by him. I looked to Kiki, my cousin, who was their daughter with whom I was playing until five minutes earlier when the scream pierced the air, and they called for us, and she was confused too. He never reached for me if she was close by. She was his girl.

  “Skylar, honey,” he stopped talking, and I watched as his throat convulsed a few times before he muttered, “Christ.”

  “Where’s Mommy?” I asked, and my question was met with another wail from my aunt. It was at that moment that I remember fear flashing through my small belly, making it hurt.

  “Your Mommy is,” he stopped and looked at my aunt, so I looked too, but she shook her head, and he carried on. “She’s not coming home, honey.”

  “Why?” The confusion trumped the fear. She wouldn’t go somewhere without taking me with her.

  “She can’t baby. But don't you worry, you’ll come home with us, we’ll take care of you.”

  I know I kept asking questions after, I also know he answered all of them as he did over and over for years. But I don’t know what else he said. It was a few years after I could understand and somewhat accept the fact that my parents were killed in a car accident.

  He kept good on his promise. I went to live with them, and they did take care of me. But they weren’t mine. I was just someone who had to come to live with them because I was all alone.

  They did their best for me not to feel like that. I just couldn’t stop. I was missing an integral part of me, and no matter what, it couldn’t be found again.

  After I graduated college and Kiki settled in her job enough for her to move out of their house and into her own apartment, they packed up and went to live in Florida. They still call every week and once a year come to Denver to visit. I still have to do the same.

  In the years I spent with them, Kiki was my best friend. That was until Jacob came by. She was always looking after me. She also preferred the boy’s company more than girls. Was first to jump in any trouble she could find, dragging me along with her. She was also the one who would pull me out of any trouble I found myself in. I would love to say that I was a good, quiet and respectful child that expressed gratitude to my aunt and uncle anytime I could. But right until a few months before I met Jacob, I was the opposite. Then puberty hit both of us, and while I was pulling into myself more and more, seeking solace in my sketches and comfort in imagining what my future home would look like, Kiki went whole hog. She was even more outgoing, seeking more of the boy's company and demanded all of their attention. She was by then the number one troublemaker in our group and was also almost always in some kind of trouble. But she still did have my back.

  Then Jacob came along. And that changed. She took it upon herself to remind me I have to lose weight, loved to instruct me how I should wear my hair and had a comment that mostly slashed me always at the ready. Her parents tried to put a stop to that behavior, but anytime they did, she became worse. The fact that they compared us in almost everything didn’t help either. Our friendship was hanging on its final threads by that point. And then, Melanie came along.

  Melanie and I became best friends almost immediately. We were close, and we stayed close to this day. We had the same taste in music, which meant loud and whatever suited us the minute we played it. The same taste in boys. She admitted that she liked Jacob the moment she saw him, but after finding out we were together, she didn’t try even a second glance. He became her friend, and that’s it.

  We went to college together, and in the end, she came to work for me when I decided for once to reach for something that would be mine and mine alone. Two years ago, Kiki came back looking haggard and exhausted. Her parents had enough of her, always asking for money. Her boss had enough of her coming to work late and hungover. And her landlord had enough of her not paying her rent. She was alone, broke, and homeless. We took her in without second a thought. After working with us, she decided to give another go at living alone, rented an apartment, and started dating Logan. It wasn’t long before Logan figured out how Kiki operates, so he cut her loose, but she still came to work every day even if she was late and, more than not, hungover. I knew I shouldn’t enable her behavior. By then, Melanie lost any understanding or patience she had for Kiki, but I couldn’t turn my back on her. She was my cousin. Once she was my best friend. And no matter what, she always had my back.

  I met Nico five years ago when he came to my office with his friend who wanted me to design his new house. I ignored Nico the entire time. He did his best to get my attention, but I prided myself with my professionalism and was in full on work mode. Not to mention, I wasn’t interested in dating; Nico or anyone else.

  I was content with my life as it was. Living with Melanie, occasionally letting her convince me to go out and have weekly dinner, get out and see my aunt and uncle when they came for a visit.

  She was also planning an intervention for Kiki, who became more and more skinny and twitchy by the day. It was a concern, but not one I was confident I should move on. That was it; that was all I wanted out of my life by that point. That, and I secretly started designing my dream
home for which I was saving every penny I could. After the meeting finished and I gave my polite decline for a date with Nico, I went out of the room, and completely forgot about him. The next day, he came in with a huge bouquet of red roses and asked me out again. I said no, again. Then the next day he came in, and we danced the same dance. After a week of him coming to my office, bringing me flowers and asking me out, I was drained and told Melanie what was happening. She jumped on the chance of me even talking about a guy, let alone of a possibility of me going out on a date with the said guy. Every day she asked if Nico was at the office. Every day the answer was yes, he was.

  By that point, it wasn’t only Nico who was trying to convince me to give him a chance; it was Melanie as well. When she called Kiki and told her what was going on, she then jumped on the bandwagon and did the same. It took Melanie to get me drunk and softly say, Babe, Jacob’s not coming back. You need to start to live again for me to say yes.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t date at all. But, she was right. A date here and there and occasional sex was no life at all. I was so intent on waiting for something to happen, that I almost missed it when it did. The next day when Nico walked in, I really looked at him. Black hair that needed a cut a week before, green eyes, square jaw, and lips that were stretched in a smile gave him a bad boy vibe. It took me months to see that while, yes, it was a killer look on him, the smile didn’t reach those eyes. In fact, they weren’t just cold; they were void of everything.

  And that was it. That was my life. I had a total of five people in it, one of whom I left standing alone at the altar, waiting for me. So, in truth, I had four. And no place to call my own. I knew Melanie would jump at the chance for me to come live with her. I didn’t want that. I wanted something of my own. I wanted the type of home I spent my days creating for my clients. I just needed to figure out how to go about it, and I needed to explain everything to Nico and hope against hope that he would not lash out.

  I didn’t want a repeat of the stairs incident. On this scary thought, the doorbell rang. My first mistake was coming to Melanie’s home, thinking I would be safe there. My second was getting up from that couch, going to, and opening the door. I stood there frozen to a spot, staring at the sight. There, on the front porch, stood Nico in his wedding suit. It was black with thin grey stripes, a grey shirt, and a black tie. If he were any man, any man at all, I would think he was incredibly handsome. But he wasn’t. He was a man who repeatedly hit me, called me names so many times I lost count, and had a habit of degrading me.

  “Sweetheart, you missed our wedding,” the sweet tone he used for these words sent a chill down my spine.

  His two men started to come after me, but I was already half way down the hall. I started to go the moment Vinny, who stood behind Nico mouthed Run as I finished with opening the door.

  Chapter Three

  Skylar

  I was breathing heavily, my heart pulsing in my throat and watching the door intently. I will never be able to explain to myself how the hell I managed to outrun Nico’s goonies and get that chair put precisely as it should have been under the doorknob so that they couldn’t open the door.

  Everything in me kept screaming. Get the hell out now! But like a moron, I just stood there and watched the door. I could hear them banging on the wood, trying to open the door, and the voices kept getting louder and louder as they lost their patience. Still, I didn’t move. That is until an arm clamped around my waist, and a hand covered my mouth.

  Urgh was only what could be heard of my scream.

  Why? Why didn’t I just find a way out? Why had I stood there and done nothing? Why haven’t I found a way out and run?

  I clawed at the arm holding me and thrashed, trying to get away, but it was useless.

  That is, I did all that until Quiet! And Stop! was growled in my ear. Even if I never heard more than four words in that voice, but never in that tone, I knew it instantly. And instantly, I relaxed.

  He crept away from the door, still holding me firmly in his arms. And yes, even with his hand over my mouth, until a soft knock came at the door.

  “Skylar, honey,” Nico kept with the sickly sweet tone that sent shivers down every fiber of my being. “You need to stop with whatever is mudding your head.”

  I started thrashing even harder than before. I knew that tone. I knew what came after that tone, and I was prepared to do anything to never get to experience the pain that followed.

  “It’s normal. The wedding jitters that is. That’s all that it is,” the knock came again. “Open this door and stop with this nonsense. C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get married.”

  I could feel my eyes well with tears. My breaths became shallow, and the burning sensation in my throat was insufferable. I tried my best to stop the tears. I tried my best not to give in to the overwhelming fear that gripped me. As usual, my best just wasn’t enough, and one by one, the burning trail on my cheeks alerted me that the tears started to spill over.

  “He’s not going to get to you,” my savior whispered in my ear. “Relax, I got you.”

  Hearing those words, I stopped shaking my head, took as big of a breath as possible with my mouth still covered, and nodded with vigor.

  “Skylar, open the door,” the sweetness was now gone from Nico’s voice. “Do it NOW!”

  The moment we heard the roar, I was turned then shoved gently toward the open window.

  “Up, go,” was all the instruction I needed.

  I ran those four steps that were between me and the light spilling into the room through that square opening in the wall. One leg over, then the next and I was sitting on the windowsill.

  “Open this fucking door now, Skylar!” Nico again banged on the door. “I’m done with your games.”

  I could feel every bang vibrating through my body. With a final look behind me, I jumped.

  I was just getting up off my knees when my hand was clasped in his much bigger one and he pulled. I was barefoot, but I didn’t care. I could hardly feel the sting of gravel in my soles. My only focus was the black car from this morning, and Max’s back that was clad in the similar black T-shirt that he gave me to put on as he walked to it and dragged me with him.

  “Get in,” his order was followed by a light push at the small of my back.

  I obviously wasn’t fast enough, if him picking me up and then planting me into the car was any indication. I turned my head to voice my protest, but I didn’t say anything. That was because on the lawn there stood Nico with his men. And behind them was Vinny, who flashed us a brief smile and wink before his face set in a frown.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me,” I looked up and was met with a scowl that was now at Max’s face.

  “What?” I breathed.

  “Nico fucking Barone?”

  I tilted my head, not getting what he was on about.

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered before shutting the door and then casually strolling in front of the car and to his door.

  I was confused by the swift mood change. As soon as Max opened the door, I leaned his way and repeated my question. Again, I didn’t get an answer. I watched in horror as Max smiled a cocky smile and flicked his two fingers from his forehead Nico’s way. He folded into the car seat, turned the key, and drove off, not looking at me once.

  As he drove, I kept glancing his way, trying to make sense of the day’s happenings. That was until I actually saw Max. Sweet Mary, the man, was breathtaking. Black hair that was cut close to his head all over, but the front was hanging down almost to his eyes. Trimmed beard, it gave an illusion that he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and was surprisingly more brown than black. His arms bulged with every movement, and it made me question how much exactly had he been in check while he grabbed me from behind. Just by looking at the muscles that were bouncing with his slightest movements, I was thinking; his control was extreme. From memory, I knew he had brown eyes. Dark brown. How I knew that since I looked at them maybe twice was a mystery.

  He
was wearing washed-up jeans, a black T-shirt and white sneakers. I remember thinking, I haven’t seen anyone so beautiful in my life. Ever… and that included Jacob.

  “Max,” I whispered tentatively.

  I needed to know what just happened. How did he know where to find me? I didn’t give him Melanie’s address. In fact, I barely said a word to him as I got into her car. Why had he even come to rescue me again? And how the hell had he got hold of Jacob’s old number? When he first came to help get away from Nico, my mind was in such a whirlwind that I just did what he said. I hadn’t stopped to question anything. I was sure, somehow, Jacob sent me this strong man and I went along with it. But now, after seeing how he bid his farewell to Nico, like he managed to steal something from him, the questions started flowing in. I needed to know.

  “Don’t.”

  That was all he said. Seriously? Don’t? I didn’t think so.

  “I need you to tell me what’s going on?”