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“I’ll live,” I say wryly. “Doc gave me some pretty strong painkillers. I can barely feel it right now.”
Max nods, staring down into his whiskey. I watch the tightness in his jaw, the furrow between his brows. He looks like he’s choosing his next words carefully.
“I know you’ve got no reason to believe a word I say,” he begins slowly. “But I meant what I told you before. I’m sorry I kept the truth from you about my history with your father and I wish I’d told you before we…were intimate.”
He pauses, but I stay silent, letting him speak.
“You have every right to be angry. All I can say is I genuinely care about you, Bricker. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I told myself I was keeping quiet because I was under orders, but you were right—thatwashypocritical. If I’d really wanted you to know, I would have told you. But I knew it would be a tough conversation and I made excuses to myself to put it off.”
“I believe you.”
And I do.
Max isn’t the type of man to betray others, or take the easy route just because it’s easy. I’ve seen for myself the lengths he’s gone to in keeping me and the rest of my crew safe. But there’s one thing playing on my mind. “Max…you and my dad. Did you…”
There’s a brief silence until Max suddenly understands what I’m getting at, and then he gives a shocked laugh. “No. God, no. Fabi and me—we did time together, we worked jobs together, but that was all. I never even…” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t like that, not at all. I don’t think he even knew I was gay. I never brought it up. He didn’t seem like the understanding type.”
I give a bitter little snort. “Yeah, you got that right.” But something in me relaxes a little, and the next breath I take seems to fill my lungs deeper.
“I wish I’d told you—” Max starts again.
I wave my hand to cut him off. “You were trying to protect me.” Just like every time Max Pedretti kept me safe physically, his first instinct was to protect my heart, too. Am I really going to hate him for that? “And hey, like you said—youwereunder orders from the Maestra.” That’s something I’ll take up with Anna-Vittoria, because I’m pretty damn mad about it. But Max doesn’t need to know that. I take another swig of whiskey before asking tentatively, “What was he like, my dad? Back then, I mean.”
Max leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “He was…well, he was like you in some ways,” he says at last. “He made you feel like anything was possible. A little reckless now and then, but he had this energy about him, when he walked into a room, you couldn’t help but gravitate toward him. You’ve got that same charisma.” Max smiles a little, lost in the memory. “He told the best damn stories, too. Had me in stitches the whole time I was locked up. Made it bearable, you know?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Hearing Max talk about who my dadusedto be just twists the knife deeper. The man he describes sounds nothing like the paranoid, angry guy I visited in that prison cell. “He’s not like that anymore. He’s…empty.”
Max’s smile fades. “Prison changes people over the long term. I saw that myself when I was in there. The lifers, they were hard men. When you have nothing to hope for, it makes you stop seeing other people as anything but enemies—or tools.”
“My mother told me the same thing you did, Max. That Dad was a thrill-seeker. That he needed to take chances to feel alive.” Max nods, his expression full of empathy. “But he was good at the job, right? I mean, up until he wasn’t. If I washalfas good as him, I should’ve seen Pony a mile off.”
“Hey.” Max’s voice is sharp. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re young, but you have the makings of a great Capo, and you’re one of the finest men I’ve ever known. A better man than your dad, and that’s the truth. You don’t let the thrill of the job make you reckless.”
I stare down at the floor, emotions churning in my chest. Doubt, grief, and anger all wrestle for dominance. “That’s not true. I pushed ahead with these jobs even after I knew someone in the crew had turned. Making choices that get people killed—how does that make me any different from my father?”
Max has moves closer to me on the couch and grips my good shoulder firmly. “You listen to me. There’s no one better suited to lead this crew than you. They’ll follow you to hell and back, not because they have to, but because theybelievein you. But a good leader—the best leaders, like Sandro, like Anna-Vittoria—they use the resources around them. You’ve got Van, Tank, Jazz—me, too—and none of us picked Pony, either. But we’re all here for you. You don’t need to shoulder the burden alone. Let us help you.”
Hell, with Max looking at me like he is right now, I feel like I could take on the whole of PacSyn alone.
“You’re right about one thing,” I say with more conviction. “I know the crew has my back. And I…” I cover his hand with my own. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
God, even after everything shitty that’s gone down, just having him close makes something loosen in my chest. Before I can second-guess myself, I lean in and press my lips to his.
For a breathless moment Max goes still against me. Then he kisses me back, a gentle hand coming up to cup the back of my head. It’s different from our frantic, desperate kisses. Slow, unhurried. Like we’ve got all the time in the world.
When we finally break, Max rests his forehead against mine. “We should cool it.”
I snort. “No we shouldnot.”
“I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
Always the gentleman. But I’m done hesitating, because I know what I want.
I wanthim.
“You’re not pushing me, and I’m sure,” I say firmly. I kiss him again, deeper this time. He makes a low noise in his throat that sends desire spiraling through me, unstoppable.
