He is close. Just in the other room. My lungs burn from trying to keep quiet. He steps on Susie’s doll and it starts to cry. Where is Susie? Is she still hiding upstairs? Or did she get out of the house like Mama said we should?

“Mama. Pleasepleaseplease wake up.”

“There you are,” he barks. “Get away from her.”

His big hand grabs me from behind, jerking me into the air. I scream and kick. My foot hits something soft. He grunts and drops me. I fall on Mama’s arm and she groans.

Run. I should run. But I can’t leave Mama. She needs me.

I crouch beside her facing him and hold up my little hands. “Don’t hurt us. Please.”

The sound he makes, something between a choke and a sob gives me the courage to look up, but I don’t know that face. Dark hair, dark eyes. Familiar.

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “I would never have hurt you but…”

“Let me go.”

“You made the wrong choice.” He grabs me and throws me through the air. I am falling, falling…

Someone far away is talking. His voice is smooth and soft. Comforting. He asks me something about a safe word. What is safe? Warm arms wrap around me. Hold me. Catch me. The scent of soap and spicy citrus cologne brings me back. Max.

“You’re, okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

When I open my eyes, Max is studying me. His eyes are tight; his brow creased with concern. The ropes are gone. I am free.

“What happened?” he asks

“I need you,” I whisper. “I need you now.”

He shakes his head. “Not this time. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

I shrug. “Sometimes I get flashbacks of my childhood. It’s no big deal. I’m fine, really. Well, actually, not fine. I need to be close to you. No games. Just you.”

Max’s brow furrows in consternation. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you, baby.”

“You’re hurting me by not doing anything.” A groan tears through me. “Please, Max. I’m not going to run away this time.”

He draws in a ragged breath and kisses me softly before sheathing himself. He grips my hips and enters me in one hard thrust. I arch up my body to take more of him. I am so deliciously, completely filled.

“Ah, baby. So hot. So wet.”

I wrap my legs around him, holding him deep. My body trembles with need. With a groan, he withdraws and then pushes forward, driving into me. Faster. Harder. He gives me what I need. I build quickly, and when my body stiffens, he slicks a finger over my throbbing nub and I fall over the edge. Pleasure crashes over me, sweeping me up in a rush of sensation so intense, a shriek rips from my throat. Max stiffens, and his fingers dig into my hips. He comes with a roar, hard and fast and deep inside me.

For the longest time neither of us moves. I am sated and warm with Max lying on top of me. Finally, he pushes himself away to dispose of the condom. When he returns, he carries me to the couch, wraps me in the blanket, and holds me in his arms.

“That’s twice, baby. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know,” I lie.

He stares into my eyes and shakes his head. “You do know. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me. I’m here for you.”

I bury my forehead in Max’s chest and breathe in his scent of sex and musk and soap. I don’t want to scare him away with my half-formed memories or my troubled past. I don’t want to relive the nightmare. I want to move on. Forward, not back. With Max.

“It’s nothing. It’s all new to me so I got a little scared.”

Max tucks his finger under my chin and tilts my head back. He stares into my eyes and his smile fades. “I trust you, baby. I trust you to tell me if there is something I need to know. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

Funny. That’s what my father said before he threw me into the wall.

Chapter 18

**FROWNS**

It’s Monday morning and Sergio is in a terrible mood. After we exchange greetings, he snarls and growls about payments and due dates until I cut him off.

“I thought you’d be happy I sent in the payment. You’re that much closer to getting the Porsche.” I turn all the pens in my pen holder to point up and mentally calculate the number of green slips it might cost me.

“Unfortunately, your payment was insufficient,” he says. “I went through the financial documents you sent me—rental agreement, bills, expenses—and by my calculation, your monthly payment should be higher.” He tells me how high. My hand flies to my mouth, knocking over the pen box. A sea of pens washes over my desk. Points sideways.

“You’ve got to be kidding. I made a rough calculation myself. I should be paying less not more. Your new payment leaves me without money for rent, food, or expenses.”

Sergio sighs. “I’ll email you my calculations. You’ll see I was doing you a favor by asking for the minimum payment. Now I’m forced to ask for more. This is what happens when you try to be too clever, Ms. Delaney.”

“You can’t do that.” But already my brain is scrambling to find a way out. Maybe Max will let me work at the club every night. Maybe not. He’s already paying me way more than I’m worth.

“I can do anything I want.”

“I’m going to appeal,” I say. “I want to speak to your manager.”

“Go ahead. The appeal process is all set out on our website.” Shouts echo on Sergio’s end of the line. Someone yells “Code Blue.”