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“Sometimes I want her so fucking bad that I think I could tear her apart with how fiercely it takes me over. Sometimes it fucking scares me, how much I need her. How much I want to—”
“Aye, I get it.” Niall shakes his head, one eyebrow raised nearly into his hairline as he drains his own pint of beer and motions to the server for another round. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’ve got it bad, man.” He lets out a breath, still shaking his head with an incredulous look.
“If that’s how it is, though, I can see why you can’t force yourself to let her go and marry Saoirse. If you could get it out of your system with a few good rounds in the bedroom—but it doesn’t sound as if it’s like that.” Niall frowns. “So the question now is, how do you get out of the engagement without breaking apart the table—or worse, ending up with your blood splashed across it after you tell Graham you won’t be marrying his daughter?”
I take the fresh beer the server hands me, lifting it in Niall’s general direction before taking another deep swig.
“Well now, you’re my second-in-command,” I tell him with a grim expression. “I’m open to ideas.”
By the time I leave the bar, though, I don’t feel much better. My thoughts immediately go to Ana as I slide into the waiting car to go home, wondering what she’s doing, if Max is still there, if talking to him helped her put things in perspective at all. I feel frozen, at an impasse, unable to move forward with her or go backward with Saoirse.
All I know is that I want her, and I’m on the verge of burning everything down just to prove how much.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I reach for it instantly, thinking that it might be Ana. But the number on the screen isn’t hers–it’s an unknown number that I don’t recognize.
I hesitate, my thumb sliding to hitIgnore, but I find myself hitting the symbol to answer it instead, despite my better judgment.
“Hello?”
It’s silent for a moment.Maybe it’s a wrong number.I’m on the verge of hanging up when I hear a crackling sound on the other end and then a deep man’s voice, thickly accented.
“I’m coming for her,monsieur.You should let her go if you know what’s best for you.”
17
ANA
Ihadn’t known what to think, exactly, when Liam had set me up to spend the afternoon talking to Max. I barely know him—I’d only crossed paths with him at Viktor’s safe house a few times and then shared the flight back to Boston with him after Liam had rescued me. But he’d helped me through the panic attack on the plane, and Liam seems convinced that until I can meet with the therapist, it’ll do me good to talk to Max.
He’s kind enough. Once Liam leaves, he motions for me to lead the way to the living room, and he sits across from me, his dark eyes concerned as I take my own seat and let out a breath.
“I’m sorry if this is awkward,” I tell him, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “This was Liam’s idea—”
“I’m happy to help if I can,” Max says gently. “I don’t know all of what you’ve been through, of course, or what exactly transpired between you and Alexandre. You don’t need to feel pressured to tell me more than you want to, either. I’m here to listen—whatever that means for you.” He pauses, looking at me from across the coffee table. “Without saying too much of things that aren’t mine to say—Sasha has spoken with me in passing about what happened to her. Not in great detail, but enough for me to understand the gist of it. And when I was a priest—” He lets out a breath, his dark eyes meeting mine and full of sympathy. “You’re hardly the first women to come to me with these kinds of stories, I’m sorry to say.”
“I know it’s not rare.” I twist my fingers together in my lap. “It’s just—after Franco, I was so broken. After what he did to me. Body, mind, soul—all of it, whatever parts that make up a person, he broke them. And I couldn’t make myself heal. And then there was Alexei, and then Alexandre—”
“You’ve been through more than most,” Max agrees. “I don’t need to know the depths of it to know that.”
“How well do you know Liam?” I ask him the question before I can stop myself.
“I know him—somewhat. Not as well as I’d like,” Max admits. “But we got to know each other better, on the way to finding you. Has he told you what he did to find out where you were?”
I shake my head. “No. I think—I don’t know why, actually. Maybe he doesn’t want to seem like he’s bragging. He said he went to some lengths, but that’s about it.”
Max chuckles wryly. “’Some lengths’ is putting it mildly. Viktor was guilty enough about the entire situation to send Levin with us, you know that. And it was Levin’s connections that got us to you.” He pauses, his eyes flicking away from mine for a moment, and I can see some of that same guilt there. “I’m sorry, Ana, I truly am.”
“For what?” I ask curiously. “It’s not as if you had anything to do with it—”
“No, of course not.” He looks at me, his expression taut. “But still, we got there in time to rescue everyone but you. You suffered more because we didn’t make it until it was too late. And for that, I can tell you that we’re all deeply sorry, every last one of us. Viktor, Levin, myself, and certainly Liam.”
“I know he feels guilty. It’s why he tried so hard to find me.”
“It’s not the only reason.” Max looks at me carefully. “You know he has deep feelings for you?”
“I know he has—feelings.” I hesitate. “I don’t know how deep they run, not exactly.”
“What happened with Alexandre has left a mark on him. He’s guilty, even more so than before, because he came to save you and only caused both of you even more pain. He wants to make up for it. I know that for certain.”
