Page 22 of Maximus

The boy nodded, eyes wide, fresh fear rolling off of him.

“Let’s go!”

Eva darted toward the back door, Elijah in her arms, long brown hair whipping behind her. I caught her arm right before she pushed the bar to open the door.

“Behind me.” I fished the car keys out of my pocket, ready to beep the locks when we were near.

Then we were out the door, running toward the vehicle. Blue and red lights flashed off in the distance and I was sure if my ears weren’t ringing, I’d hear emergency sirens wailing and people screaming. But I heard nothing but a high-pitched squeal—and that was dangerous. I couldn’t hear a fucking thing, including a threat if it approached.

The SUV came into view. I pushed the unlock button, Eva shot around the rear of the car, and the passenger side door opened as I was depositing Liam into the back seat. Eva climbed in back, pulled both her sons close. I slammed the door and jumped in behind the wheel.

We fishtailed out of the parking lot and hauled ass down the road.

Jesus Christ, that was close.

It wouldn’t be until later, when my heart stopped racing and my ears stopped buzzing, that I realized I’d asked Eva to trust me, and she did.

Chapter 7

“Here!” Max shouted.

Liam flinched next to me, Elijah shoved in closer, and I fought the urge to cover my ears as I looked up from my boys to find Max passing back his phone to me.

I had a thousand questions; none of them I could ask because Max said he couldn’t hear. What the hell was that about? And he looked like hell. The side of his face had pebbles embedded in his flesh, and his forearms and hands were shredded to shit.

What the actual fuck happened? I heard the explosion but I hadn’t seen what blew up. Then bedlam ensured the restaurant turned to chaos. People were screaming, diving under tables, and running for the doors.

For a moment, I’d sat frozen, unsure what to do, and scared Max had left us. Then fight or flight kicked in and I decided on flight. Thank God, Max had found us in the kitchen, because beyond getting away from the crowd, I hadn’t thought about our escape.

“My password is seven-three-zero-nine-eight,” Max told me when I took his phone. “Tex’s number will be in the recent call list. Call him and tell him what happened.”

My hands were shaking so badly I fumbled with the phone a moment, before unlocking it and pressing Tex’s name.

“You find anything?” Tex’s voice boomed in my ear.

“It’s Eva.”

“Where’s Max?” Concern laced his tone.

“Driving. There was an explosion at the restaurant. Max says he can’t hear.”

Tex cursed a blue streak and I waited long moments until he got himself under control before he asked, “Are any of you hurt?”

“Well, the side of Max’s face looks like he got into a fight with a cheese grater, and his elbows, forearms, and hands are bleeding, and he can’t hear, so yes, Max is hurt. Me and the boys were inside. I didn’t see what happened, only heard it.”

“Tell Tex, he was right.” Max’s loud bellow filled the small space.

I caught Max’s stare in the rearview mirror, his cool blue eyes full of worry. I wished he could hear me. I had so much I wanted to tell him. We needed to stop so I could clean his wounds. And he shouldn’t be gripping the steering wheel with his hands looking like they did. I wanted to tell him how much I appreciated him finding us, getting us away from the danger.

But I couldn’t tell him anything.

“I heard,” Tex told me. “He must’ve been close to the explosion if he can’t hear.”

“What?” I whispered.

My chest tightened, my stomach felt funny, and my heart was beating too fast.

“I was afraid someone had put a tracking device on your car. I asked Max to go and check it out.”