Page 52 of Maximus

“I don’t like that you know that.”

Sometimes Eva’s honesty shocked the hell out of me—no games, no bullshit, no denial. She didn’t eat because she was making sure her boys did and money was tight. Straight up, totally open, she didn’t bother trying to deny it.

“I’m sure you don’t. And I’m not mentioning it to make you feel bad. One more thing I’ll add, I wish like hell when I was growin’ up I had a mom that cared enough to make sure my belly was full, I was eating healthy, and I was getting what I needed. Something you give to your boys. They might not recognize it now, but one day they will, and they’ll appreciate it.”

“I don’t want them ever to know we were so poor I couldn’t feed them and myself.”

“Why not?” I jerked us to a stop and kept my eyes on the boys.

“Because it’s embarrassing. Because—”

“There’s not one damn thing embarrassing about loving your kids, Eva.” Then for some strange reason, I told her the truth. “My dad was filthy rich yet I was the poorest kid on the block. We had nothing, because behind the walls of that nice house, was an abusive asshole who raised his fist to my mother every damn day, and when he got bored beating his wife, he turned to the next best thing—me.”

“Max,” she whispered.

“Money means not a damn thing when it’s coated with evil. I would’ve taken being homeless if it meant I had parents that loved me. Your kids aren’t growing up poor, Eva, they’re growing up surrounded by your goodness, and that means more than the balance in your checkbook and what’s on the dinner table.”

Needing to get us up to our rooms and away from Eva’s sweet, soft eyes, I tugged her forward and caught up to the boys patiently waiting at the elevator. We rode the elevator up in near silence and when we made it to our adjoining rooms, I handed Eva her key and waited for her and the boys to go in before I let myself into mine.

In a minute, I’d open the connecting door, but my emotions were too raw, I needed time to get myself sorted.

* * *

“Thank you for dinner,” Eva said.

We were standing outside of her room and she’d already thanked me three times—it was starting to piss me off. She’d reminded the boys to say thank you as well, which I understood—she was teaching them manners—but good God, it was a hundred-dollar meal, not a vacation to the Alps.

“You said that, babe,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, well, I really appreciate everything you’re doing for us. I want—”

“I know, Eva. Go on and get in the room. The boys look like they’re sleepin’ on their feet.”

“Okay,” she whispered and opened the door.

Once again, I waited for them to be safely locked away before I went into my room. The adjoining doors were closed but unlocked. After I knew they were all asleep, I’d open them up before I went to bed.

That was after I checked in with my team, but I needed to talk to Tex first.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time—early enough I wouldn’t wake Melody or their kids.

“I was getting ready to call you,” Tex greeted.

Of course he was, the man was dedicated to the cause of saving the world. That was, when he wasn’t dedicated to making his pretty wife happy.

“Whatcha got for me?” I asked.

“We got Chris Peters in custody. He’s a tool. Total amateur hour, which only solidifies my theory there’s a second contract.”

“So, what, you think Peters was being set up?”

“That’d be my guess. I think the person hired to kill Eva put the contract out as a way to cover his ass. From start to finish it’s sloppy, easily found, but I can’t trace the source.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means the person who put out the bid is smart and covered their ass while leaving Chris Peters swinging. The authorities could easily find the contract that Peters accepted but not who put out the bid. And considering Chris Peters is currently singing the blues, confessing to all kinds of shit but has no idea who hired him, I’d say he’s the patsy for the real hit.”

Fucking hell.