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Leah looked so happy she might burst. “Bye, Cara!”
“Bye!” I called out as I watched her skip out the door and down the hall.
That little girl was special. There was just something about Leah that tugged at my heartstrings. She reminded me a lot of Sophie and that was probably a big contributing factor.
Smiling, I reached for my purse and locked up the office, happy to welcome the weekend.
IT WAS LATE AGAIN WHEN I arrived home, balancing shopping bags, my purse, and a food for dinner. I barely made it in the door without dropping it all. The house was quiet and dark as I flipped on lights and entered the kitchen. Charlotte and Sophie had gymnastics on Fridays. It was my time to unwind from the week and enjoy a little solitude.
I opened the fridge and put the cold groceries away and then turned, shutting the door as a shadow emerged from the dark hall. Screaming, I placed a hand over my heart and nearly jumped a mile when I saw Maxwell standing there with a sardonic grin.
“Seems you weren’t expecting me.”
“Of course not,” I breathed as my heart raced in my chest. “We didn’t have plans.”
He took a couple of steps in my direction, that same self-servient smile hovering on his lips. “I changed my mind. Get dressed. We’re going to check out a new club.”
I didn’t want to go out. “Not tonight. I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”
For a few seconds he didn’t move. A moment later I was up against the wall, clutching at his hand as it wrapped around my throat and his big body pinned me against the textured paint. “I don’t remember giving you an option.” He didn’t squeeze but the threat was clear. “Won’t Charlotte and little Sophie be home soon? It would be a shame to disturb their evening.”
Shit.
“Okay,” I choked out as he released his grip.
“Hurry up. My time is precious.”
Right. Bitterness crept inside my heart as I walked into my room and shut the door, blocking him from coming in. I didn’t want him to think I was issuing an invitation into my bed. That wasn’t happening tonight.
Thirty minutes later we pulled up to a nightclub that Maxwell was thinking of investing in. He was just as ruthlessly calculating as his father Barry Forman. Always accumulating more wealth and assets, the two men cared about nothing but their reputation and money. As I watched Max meeting with his contacts it became clear that I didn’t know the man who kept his hand on my lower back most of the night. I was never allowed out of his gaze, even if I sat across the room.
Everything to Maxwell was a trophy. I had become another possession.
Exhausted, I entered the limo and sat down, awaiting Max. He was about to climb in when the roar of a motorcycle caught everyone’s attention. Maxwell left the door ajar as he straightened his jacket and moved toward the trio of bikers parking a short distance away. At first, I thought it was strange and shocking that R.J.’s club would know Max.
I was wrong.
It wasn’t the Ravage Riders.
The biggest of the three bikers stood and accepted Maxwell’s handshake. When he turned slightly, I caught the name of his club as it was illuminated by the streetlamp. Satan’s Outlaws. Why was Max doing business with a known group of biker thugs? The Outlaws had a bad reputation. Everyone in Providence knew to stay far away.
This was bad. I knew instinctively that something was up.
They spoke for several minutes and then parted ways as Max strode toward the limo with a satisfied expression on his face. Whatever business they were in together, it wouldn’t be legal. Providence was in danger.
Swallowing hard, I tried to smile as he entered the car. I worried the entire way home how I would refuse him if he insisted on intimacy. There wasn’t a need to be concerned. He was preoccupied and dropped me off with a brief kiss, hardly giving the attention a fiancé deserved.
As I was exiting, he held onto my hand. “Don’t forget the gala. Wear red. Something special.”
Lifting my chin, I nearly told him to go to hell. I was done with his demands. Deciding not to make a scene just as I was escaping from his grasp, I nodded. “Sure.”
“That’s my girl.”
Swallowing my disgust, I watched him pull away from the curb before I was inside. So much for making sure I was safe. Sighing, I stopped on the front porch and sank onto the bench swing that Sophie loved. The night was quiet, the stars bri
ghtly lit as the moon cast a murky pale glow. I leaned back, pushing off as I swished in the silence that followed.
My thoughts returned to the end of the evening and Max’s meeting with Satan’s Outlaws. I couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that surfaced. Maxwell Forman was involved in something dangerous.
