Heat (22 page)

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Authors: Jamie K. Schmidt

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He nodded. “Come on, let’s at least try and have a nice meal. No guarantees, though.”

“I don’t need any guarantees.”

“How are you today?” He felt stiff and polite. This was the first time they’d had to speak
alone all morning. Max helped her into his truck and then got in.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I’m good. It’s weird not being afraid of David. Seeing him like that.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“You’re not thinking you could have prevented him from switching to meth, do you?”

“Of course it crossed my mind.”

He let out another explosive sigh.

“But I don’t think I could have made a difference. He never listened to me.”

“Some people you can’t save, Mallory.”

“Sometimes you can’t help but try.”

He took a shuddering breath and nodded.
Yeah, ain’t that the truth
.

Dante’s was just opening when they all got there. They didn’t mind waiting for their food as long as the bar was fast. Max hadn’t planned on getting drunk, but the first whiskey and soda went down like a much needed blessing, and he was halfway through his second before he realized he hadn’t eaten anything that day.

The only thing on the table was a basket of bread and he turned his nose up at that. No one seemed to notice he wasn’t partaking in slathering butter on the hot rolls.

“So,” Jessie said. “How did you meet our brother?”

Mallory blushed scarlet. “He works for my sister. I’ve been staying at Couture for a while and I took his self-defense class.”

“Is he any good?”

Mallory refused to look at him. “I wouldn’t want to face off with him in a dark alley.”

“Did you know he once jumped off the roof of our garage because he wanted to do a Power Ranger move?”

“All right, Jessie, that’s enough,” Max said, smiling despite himself.

“Yeah, but did he get the bad guy?” Mallory laughed.

“He got a broken arm and about twenty stitches.” Ken gave his brother a good-natured shove.

“Your mother must have been so worried about you,” Mallory said.

Jessie rattled the ice in her empty glass. “She was more worried about what the old man would do. We had to tell him that Max was staying at a friend’s house.”

“Yeah,” Ken said. “And I had to check the mailbox every day to hide the insurance bills.”

“At least we
had
insurance,” Max said.

“Still cost us twenty-five hundred out of pocket for the treatment.”

“How did you keep that from your dad?” Mallory asked.

“Ken and I started doing extra jobs around the neighborhood. I donated my babysitting money and Ken did yard work. It took a while, but we paid it off and the old man never found
out.”

“What would he have done if he found out?”

His brother and sister shuddered; even after all these years their faces turned a little gray at the idea.

“Nothing good,” Jessie said simply.

“And he never would have let us forget it,” Ken added.

“He probably would have broken my other arm,” Max said.

“I’m sorry,” Mallory said. She looked so haunted, he wanted to whisk her into his arms and tell her that she didn’t have to worry about anyone hurting her ever again.

“At least you know why none of us are mourning the old man too hard.” Jessie accepted a refill of her drink.

They placed their orders when the waiter came back and the topic turned to Mallory’s family.

“So Colleen Granger is your sister?” Jessie asked, twirling her spaghetti around a spoon with her fork.

“She took back her maiden name after Alfie died. It’s Colleen Bryant now,” Mallory said. “Yeah, she’s something.”

“What’s it like to have all that money?” Ken asked.

Max inwardly groaned. He shot Mallory an apologetic look, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s not my money.” She was scooping out the mussels from her
zuppa di pesce
. “But she does things like drink Johnnie Walker Blue like it’s water. And donates a great deal to charities. She’s got a soft spot for children’s causes. One of these days, I’m going to talk to her about a women’s shelter.”

“Why?” Jessie asked.

“I don’t know how much Max told you about me?”

Max shook his head. “I didn’t tell them about David.”

“Who’s David?” Ken gestured with a bread stick.

Max listened to Mallory tell them an abbreviated version of the past few months. She kept the part about the X tab to herself. It was her story to tell, but Max thought it really showed David’s personality.

“So why didn’t you go to a shelter?” Jessie asked. “Why did you stay all alone for two months?”

“There was such a stigma about the ‘battered women’s shelter’ in my mind that I couldn’t. Of course in hindsight, I should have just gone and got help sooner. That’s why I think the shelter I’d like to build with Colleen would be more of a community outreach program,
working in conjunction with the other shelters. My main thrust would be taking away the stigma. Centering on women helping women. Maybe it would start out as just a safe place to go to hang out. Or a place to stay, like a YWCA. I don’t know.” Mallory shrugged. “It’s just something that I keep tossing around in my head. And I know Colleen would love to fund it. She’s a generous person. I wish she could have come to the restaurant with us today and you could have seen for yourself.”

“I think that’s beautiful,” Jessie said. “My mom would have liked that. And she would have liked
you
.”

This time Max saw Mallory flush with pleasure. “I’m sorry I never met her.”

Lunchtime passed by and Max thought that he might just get out of this unscathed. Even so, he had to blink twice when David and Chrissie came through the door.

Fuck
.

He pushed himself to his feet.

“This is a private affair,” Max said.

“Your affair isn’t private at all,” Chrissie hissed.

“Where’s my ring, you faithless whore?” David lurched closer. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and Max didn’t need to confirm what the bulge under his arm was. He had seen the pistol last night.

Max cleared the table and tried to get between him and Mallory.

“Who is this asshole?” Jessie said, pushing to her feet.

Ken blinked around the table, not sure how to react.

“I left it on the night table, three months ago when I left you.” Mallory smiled nervously at Jessie and Ken. “David, this is Max’s family.”

Jessie narrowed her eyes at David. “I’ve heard about you.”

“You probably sold it for drugs,” Max said, hoping David’s attention would turn toward him.

He got Chrissie instead. “My brother is going to sue you for libel.”

“Slander,” David corrected, turning toward Max. “Libel is written. Slander is verbal.”

“Yeah?” Max said. “If I recall, it’s only slander if it’s not true.”

Chrissie threw a punch; Max deflected it and pushed her into a large potted plant. The waiter ran out of the kitchen.

“What’s going on out here?” the waiter demanded.

“David was just leaving,” Mallory said to him, before turning to face her ex. “We went over this the other night. Why are you here?”

“You stole things from me.”

“What things?” Mallory yelled.

“My guitar. My laptop.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have any of those things. Why don’t you report them stolen?”

Chrissie was getting to her feet. “That’s a good idea. We should call the police.”

“No police!” David shouted. “I want my money.” He swiveled back to Mallory, who didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

David ran his hands through his hair. “You’re trying to confuse me.”

“David,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Sit down for a moment. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Shaking her off him, David clenched his fist.

“I wouldn’t,” Max said between his teeth.

“Your sister,” David said. “Call her. Tell her to give me what she stole from me and we’ll call it even.”

“David, she didn’t take your guitar or your laptop.”

“Give me three thousand dollars and I’ll let the matter drop. Otherwise, I’m filing paperwork in the morning.” He pulled down his suit jacket.

“I’m getting dizzy watching your mood swings,” Mallory said. “You’re strung out and you need help. You want to deal? Here’s a deal. You check into a rehab center or I’m filing paperwork in the morning. How does a restraining order sound to you?”

Max would have cheered if it hadn’t been inappropriate.

“Like a piece of paper.” David fumbled inside his jacket for the gun.

Max snap-kicked him in the groin and when David dropped to his knees, Max whipped around a spinning back kick to his temple that leveled David to the restaurant floor. He was out before his head thunked to the ground. But his jacket fell open, showing his hand was on the handle of his gun. Chrissie screamed and threw herself over her brother.

“You killed him!” she accused.

“Are you on the same drugs he is?” Max said coldly. “He’s taking a nap.”

“I’m calling the police,” the waiter said.

“To Dad!” Jessie raised her cocktail. “This is a fitting wake. More than you know.” She said the last bit to Chrissie, who was the only one looking at her as if she were crazy.

By the time the police took their statements, David had come around. Mallory tried to convince the restaurant not to file charges against David. It pissed Max off a bit that she wanted David to get off scot-free for almost pulling a gun on her. She went back to Couture to fill them in on what happened while he drove his siblings to the airport.

“You sure know how to throw a wake,” Jessie said, kissing him goodbye at the security
checkpoint.

“I like Mallory,” Ken said. “She keeps you on your toes.”

And then they were gone. Max rode around for a while listening to sad cowboy songs on satellite radio. When he was drained, he drove back to Couture. He didn’t have it in him to punch a bag, but he needed some escape and relief from the day. There were a few scenes he could put together that would blank out everything but the sweet pleasure of control. Mallory needed to be treated with kid gloves right now, and that was the exact opposite of what he needed. He wouldn’t touch another woman. Hell, he didn’t even want anyone but her. But he would set the scenes and watch, letting the sweet sounds of submission wash away the remains of an old life.

Chapter Nineteen

Mallory had to tell the story three times. Next time, she’d make sure Colleen, Anya, and Nefertiti were all in the same room first.

“Tee has a contact at the Haven Police Department,” Colleen said. “She can keep us informed.” They were sitting in the boardroom around a heavy oak table. On a buffet against the wall were snacks and drinks. Mallory couldn’t eat. Her stomach was still threatening to projectile vomit all over the beautiful room.

“That Sergeant Polowski is quite the charmer,” Nefertiti said with a coy look under her lashes at Istvahn. “Should I ask him out for dinner and drinks and pump him for information?”

“Excuse me, I have work to do,” Istvahn said and exited the room.

Nefertiti’s teasing smile faded a bit.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Colleen said. Her phone alarm went off. She looked at it and sighed. “Some days it’s not worth chewing through the restraints. I’ve got to get ready for tonight. There’s a huge dungeon event.”

“Do you need all staff on deck?” Anya asked, adding a dollop of Baileys to her coffee.

“I think we’ve got the scenes set, but see Clint if you want to be on a standby list.”

Anya’s cheeks pinked. “I should have an early night. I’ve been burning the midnight oil.”

Colleen grunted, “Whatever,” and left the room, Nefertiti on her heels.

“What’s the story with you and Clint?” Mallory asked.

“There’s not even a rough draft.” Anya sipped her coffee. “I’m not his type.”

“I see the way he looks at you. You should go to his dungeon.”

“I’m not into group activities,” she said, primly.

“I bet he’d make an exception for you, if you told him that.” Mallory grabbed the bottle of Irish Cream and doctored her own drink. She didn’t have to be back at work until Monday.

“Maybe,” Anya said in a way that convinced Mallory she wouldn’t do anything about it.

“So what’s the deal with Nefertiti and Istvahn? I’m sensing they’re more than friends.”

“Nah.” Anya shook her head. “They’ve just worked together too long.”

“He seemed a little ticked off by the idea of her going out to dinner with that cop.”

“With Istvahn, how could you tell?”

“I suppose,” Mallory said.

“So are you heading off to Club Inferno?” Anya waggled her eyebrows.

Mallory laughed. “No, I’m going to hunker down with Max and not come up for air until Monday. Don’t tell anyone, though—especially not my sister.”

“I think she knows you two are a thing.”

“She warned me off him because she was afraid his vanilla students would get jealous.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Anya said. “We’re really a sex club. If they wanted to get laid, we could hook them up.”

“Not if they’re paying for it. That’s illegal.”

“It’s a fine line, like paying two hundred dollars for a twenty-buck champagne in the VIP room.”

“What are you saying?” Mallory leaned in.

“I’m saying that a lot of us work for tips.” Anya rubbed her fingers together. “I don’t, but I could tell you of a few.”

“Does Max?”

“He rakes in tips, but it’s not for sex.”

“What for, then?”

Anya shrugged. “He has a creative genius for BDSM scenes and he’s a good teacher.”

“Oh,” Mallory said. “I’d better go find him.”

“About that,” Anya said. “He’s at Club Inferno tonight. He’s got a few scenes going on that have everyone in an uproar. I’d like to see it, but I’m feeling a little shy tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s tonight?”

Anya nodded. “He probably forgot to tell you with all the craziness of the day.”

“Yeah,” Mallory said. “That must be it.”

“Are you all right?”

“I will be. Like you said, it was a tough day. How do I get to Club Inferno?”

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