Dirty Boy (28 page)

Half hour later, Max guided Story into the home he’d grown up in. She hadn’t said another word to him since he’d ended the conversation. He should’ve left it as it was, after he’d gotten her to back off in the kitchen. Career aside, he’d never be normal again. Still, he saw her vulnerability, recognized her simple need to have someone in her corner. It negated everything else, except his conflicted feelings for her.

He wanted to protect her and break her, as Kayleigh had broken him.

Kayleigh. Kayleigh.
Kayleigh.
He hated her very name.

Glowering at the décor in the foyer, he found it still bore the makeover Babs had done when she’d married Winston. With the exception of the kitchen, the guestrooms and Story’s bedroom, every other room had gilt and glass in it.

Story glanced around but remained silent as he led her toward the sound of voices, both adult and children. It took everything in him to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. If not for Story, he would’ve turned and said fuck the entire night. But he didn’t feel like answering any questions such behavior would warrant.

Hand at the crook of Story’s back, he paused in the doorway, his stomach turning at the picture of domesticity. His oldest brother, Winston, sat with his five-year-old son resting in his lap. Close to him, his wife, Nicole, reclined in a seat, preening under the attention her very pregnant belly received. Alan, next in line, sat on a sofa, stroking his wife, Lisa’s, hair, while their two kids screeched to each other. Max grimaced when he noticed her small baby bump.

“Max!” his dad greeted, catching sight of him from where he sat in a wingback chair. His gaze flickered to Story and his eyes widened, then narrowed. “Story.”

Story licked her lips and nodded. “Winston.” She cleared her throat. “How are you?”

“My well-being is nothing to concern yourself over,” he answered.

“Well, if it isn’t the porn star,” Nicole called.

“Little brother,” Win said, getting to his feet and rushing over to pat him on the back.

“All right, I’ve arrived,” Ryker said, brushing past the three of them. “The party can begin.”

“You mean the debauchery,” Eric taunted, hot on his heels.

Ryker flipped off Eric. “Fuck off.”

While the others found drinks and settled in with the back-and-forth, Max remained on the edge, not fitting in. He hadn’t in years, and the standstill of his life was his own fault. If he kept himself separate and apart, then no one could get close enough to rip his heart out ever again.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Story?” Ryker asked, already pushing a glass into her hand.

“She might appreciate a seat more,” Nicole said. “Leave it to Max and she’ll stand up the rest of the evening.”

“Oh, did you hear? Story’s our newest starlet,” Eric said casually, sipping from his glass.

Nicole frowned. “Starlet?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, you’re fucking for a living?”

“Yep,” Eric said.

“You fucking asshole,” Max snarled, reaching his brother in a few strides and shoving him into a wall. The crystal tumbler slipped from his hand and crashed onto the floor. “That wasn’t your goddamn business to tell.”

Before Ryker and Win managed to drag him away from Eric, Max planted his fist in his brother’s mouth.

“Enough!” Dad demanded, restoring order amongst them as only he could. “You and I will talk after dinner, young lady. As for you, Maxwell, keep your temper in check for one night.” He nodded with meaning to Lisa.

It was just this reason she’d fucking crucified him to anyone who’d listen.

“Come with me,” Nicole said to Story. Without invitation, Lisa got to her feet and followed them out of the room.

“I can’t say I’m happy to hear Story’s new role,” Dad said the moment the women were gone.

“She answered one of our ads,” he said defensively, pouring himself a scotch.

“She has a three-month contract,” Ryker said. “After that, I don’t think she’ll hang around.”

“Yeah,” Eric began, pressing a handkerchief filled with ice against his bloody lip.

At Max’s glare, he closed his mouth.

“So what’s going on with you two?” Dad asked point blank.

Dropping into a seat, Max explained the entire situation to Winston, starting with the moment she’d reached the studio to the moment they’d arrived at his house. He admitted to his conflicted feelings toward her and the entire situation. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with her.”

Winston studied Max long and hard, almost as if he were trying to see inside of him and figure out the workings of his mind. Finally, he nodded.

“Have fun with her, son. She’s there with you. Keep her at your side. You know? Make her pay for every sin she and her mother committed against this family. The only way to get your money’s worth is to not let her out of your sight. Keep her in your bed, off and on the sets. Have her cook for you, clean. Get our money’s worth. Then, when you’re done, throw her out.”

“I’m not made of fucking stone,” he grumbled. “If I do that, I run the risk of getting attached.”

“You?” Win asked in surprise. “I doubt it. It’s over four years since Kayleigh killed herself and your son. With each passing year you grow more and more bitter. What’s so special about Story that you’d let her into your heart?”

“Yeah, trust us,” Alan agreed. “Dad’s right, so is Win, therefore you have nothing to fear.”

Story drummed her fingers against her thigh, wanting nothing more than to escape Nicole and Lisa. When Eric had blared his statement, it had immobilized Story. She should’ve expected he was awaiting his chance to humiliate her, but she hadn’t, so he’d caught her off guard. At first, Story had been grateful for Nicole’s rescue. She’d led Story to a sitting room and told her to pull herself together.

She hadn’t minded, although Nicole hadn’t always been civil the few times they’d crossed paths in the past. Hot on their heels had been Lisa. Now, twenty minutes later, and they were keeping her from leaving by bombarding her with conversation.

“Aren’t you afraid? I’d be afraid,” Lisa said, scrutinizing Story with a critical eye.

Story frowned. “Afraid? Um, no. I don’t have to do anything I’m not comfortable with.”

“I’m not talking about
that
,” Lisa tittered. “I mean living with a murderer.”

Anger surged into Story and she stiffened. “Max isn’t a murderer. Kayleigh was. She killed her son. If she was so miserable, she could’ve walked away. If she was so intent on harm, she could’ve jumped off that cliff and left an innocent child alive.”

Lisa gasped. “That is the most unsympathetic, incorrect thing you could’ve ever said, Story. You’re showing your ignorance and trashiness. Kayleigh was a wonderful woman, whose life was taken too soon, after suffering years of abuse at Max’s hands. The photographs tell the story.”

Story would ignore Lisa’s comments about herself. She’d always known how they felt about her and Babs. “You know what, Lisa? Kayleigh took her own life. Furthermore, Max wouldn’t hit a woman.”

“Are you sure about that?” she sneered. “Just because you’re opening your legs to him doesn’t mean you know him.”

“Just because you’re married to his brother, doesn’t mean you know him,” she shot back.

“Who would’ve thought there would be another porn star in the family?” Nicole chirped with a broad smile, changing the subject and ending the standoff. “Oh, darling. I forgot. You aren’t in the family anymore.”

“My mom hasn’t divorced Winston yet, so I’m still his stepdaughter,” she retorted.

“Babs divorce
him
?” Nicole feigned shock. “Wouldn’t that be the other way around? As I recall, he didn’t steal anything from you or her. That would be the two of you stealing from him.”

“I didn’t steal anything from anyone,” Story snapped. “But I’m tired of singing a song no one is interested in hearing. Whether you believe me or not,
I
know the truth. And, if Winston didn’t address this matter, it isn’t
your
place to do so.”

“It
is
my place, Miss Thornton,” Nicole responded coolly, resting her hands on her protruding belly, her simple gold wedding band catching a ray of light. “Alan loves his father. When Winston hurts, my husband hurts, which means
I
hurt. I have no clue what Max was thinking when he brought you here.”

“Maybe, he intends to push her over a cliff and pretend she jumped as he did with Kayleigh,” Lisa pointed out.

“Oh my God, you’re an impossible bitch. Max would never kill anyone,” Story insisted, knowing that to be true in the deepest recesses of her soul. “Winston, Ryker, and Eric were there. They witnessed everything. They gave statements.”

Besides, Point Fermin was a public place. Certainly, someone would’ve seen Max push his wife and son over.

“Winston has the money to pay off whoever to look the other way, and claim Max had nothing to do with the deaths.”

That was true, but the tortured man Story knew Max to be wasn’t a murderer. He had a guilty conscience but not because he was a killer. However, she wouldn’t mention Max’s nightmares, or
anything,
to these two. They’d find a way to use it against him.

“They stick together. They’d never give Max over to the authorities. I saw Kayleigh’s bruises and she said that wasn’t the first time Max had hit her. What woman would make up a story of abuse when it is such a serious subject matter?”

“Max would never hit a woman.” Story’s heart pounded as she spoke the words. Max could have a downright nasty attitude and a fierce temper, but he’d never physically threatened her. There’d be signs if he were an abuser.
Right
? Besides, Lisa had hit the nail on the head. What man or woman would lie about domestic abuse when it was such a blight upon society? “Even if he’s an abuser that doesn’t make him a murderer.”

“Do you
hear
yourself?” Lisa screeched. “You sound like a ridiculous child.”

Someone clearing their throat interrupted the conversation. Craning her neck, Story found Winston standing in the doorway, looking less than pleased.

He drilled Nicole and Lisa with an annoyed frown. “Your husbands are waiting for you and I need to talk to Story.”

Without another word, the two women departed, arguing amongst themselves.

Story fidgeted in her seat as Winston sat across from her. She licked her lips, searching for a greeting.

“How’s your mother?” he asked with hard-to-miss sarcasm.

However, the question surprised her. Babs’ cell phone number hadn’t changed so Winston could’ve called and asked her himself. “Why don’t you call and find out?”

He nodded. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t know,” she rushed out. “I didn’t know the reason you threw her out until I saw Max. I asked her about the embezzlement and she admitted to it.”

“She never admitted a thing to me, but the bank manager showed me the footage. She’s on it.” He folded his arms. “She also told Max you helped her. That you split the money.”

“She lied.”

“Why should I believe that? You two weren’t on the outs. You were close and she’s never told an untruth about you before. She might be materialistic but she loves you.”

“Winston, please, believe me. She did it because of your refusal to, um…” Chewing on her lip, Story drew her brows together. It was almost too ridiculous to say.

“My refusal to…?” Winston prompted.

“Rent Lichtenstein,” she finished on a mumble, giving him an under-eyed look.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know? The country? The one she said could be rented.”

“The hell you say!”

“
I
didn’t say it. Mom did.”

“Christ!” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She let
that
incident ruin her good sense? She’s insane! Insane, I tell you. She ruined us because I didn’t have time to throw some goddamn extravagant party?”

Planting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

Shocked into silence, Story stood and tipped to him, so angry with her mother. Babs had not only ruined Story’s reputation, but she’d devastated a man who’d been better to her than any other man ever had.

“Winston, I’m so sorry Mom did this to you.”

He glared at her, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’m pressing charges against her,” he spat, his pain morphing into anger.

“What? Wait. You can’t! Mom would never survive in jail.”

“Then perhaps I’ll make you pay for the crime you both committed.”

“I’m innocent,” Story cried. “And…and…Max, he, we worked out a deal.”

“A deal? What’s a deal to you and your mother?” He got to his feet and headed for the door. “I advised Max to keep you until he felt you’d repaid him. That was before I discovered the reason your mother did what she did. I gave that woman everything! I gave
you
everything.”

Story rushed to him. “And I appreciate every kindness you’ve ever shown me, but I can’t go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit!”

“You can and you will. Unless you want your mother to face charges.”

“That isn’t fair! If you think we both are guilty, then we should both face charges. One of us shouldn’t take the fall for the other.”

“Quite right,” he agreed with a hard edge. He started toward the door again, yanking his cell phone from his pocket.

Story hated to do this but she was desperate.

“Some people think Max is guilty, too.”

Her words halted Winston. He loved his sons and would die before he allowed anything to happen to them.

“But you don’t,” he pointed out. “I walked up during your defense, so I miss your point.”

“You know…you know he’s suffering. This is the reason he is the way he is.”

“And how might that be?”

“Closed off to any emotion.”

“Let me guess. You think you have what it takes to heal him.”

“I wish,” she whispered. “But I know better. Max is hurting.”

“What are you saying, Story?”

“Max already has a very poor view on women that’ll worsen if I abruptly leave.”

“You won’t suddenly leave. You’ll be arrested. In jail. He’ll more than understand.”

She didn’t have any other retort. After the day she’d had, she was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. She’d thought having sex with Max in private would’ve changed something between them. Maybe, it had for her, which was more than a little dangerous to her peace of mind. But Max was still Max.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Winston said.

“One that will keep me and my mom out of jail?”

“To put it bluntly, Max is more than the worth of his cock.”

She was so not discussing Max’s cock with Winston. It. Was. NOT. Happening.

“He loved his son. He would’ve made a wonderful father. I want him to go behind the scenes at the company.”

“That’s not happening. Max enjoys what he does too much.”

“That was the start of Kayleigh’s misery. My son was determined to be the star that he is today. Not an A-list movie star. No. He wanted to get into adult entertainment. How do you think his wife felt when he left for work, knowing what his work was?”

“It sounds to me as if you’re blaming Max for Kayleigh’s actions at the end,” Story said slowly. No wonder Max was so mean. He had no one in his corner.

“She was never right again after she gave birth. Max bent over backwards to help her, but the one thing vital to her recovery, he refused to do.”

“Did he ever raise his hand to her?”

“No. But the evidence suggested otherwise. Max’s reputation didn’t help. A note was later found amongst Kayleigh’s things. Rather than lose to Max, she preferred the path she chose.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, the only thing she knew to say. “Wouldn’t that prove his innocence?”

Winston gave her a sad smile. “If I can pay off a crowd of people to say my son’s innocent, couldn’t I hire someone to forge Kayleigh’s handwriting?”

Money could be a curse, Story realized. Babs was so scared of not having it, as she once had, she’d lie on Story and sell herself to keep it. The Sherwoods had so much of it, they were rumored to have bought Max’s innocence.

“Here’s where you come in,” Winston said. “You can help Max.”

“How?” she asked suspiciously. “By giving him another child?” From everything he’d told her and with his focus on Max’s lost son, what else could it be?

“Would you agree? I’d forget all about the embezzlement.”

“Winston,” Story began, “I don’t think a baby would do Max any good. It definitely wouldn’t do
me
any good. I want to finish school.”

He circled her. “We’re very wealthy, Story. I could pay you a lot of money.”

“Everything isn’t about money!” He should’ve learned that months ago via Babs’ theft or even Kayleigh’s death.  “My mom never learned that. There’s heart and soul and honesty.”

“There’s also self-preservation.” He walked back to the chair he’d vacated and sat, then indicated Story return to her seat. “Do you like moral dilemmas?”

“The hypothetical kind.”

He nodded. “If I ask you to bear Max’s child and then walk away for an exorbitant amount of money, it’ll secure your future and heal Max.”

She was already nodding in disagreement, especially the part where she’d have to walk away from her own baby.