Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

That’s it. I’m done.

Thirteen months, three weeks, and two days ago

“Where are you going?” Max asked as he followed Courtney down the stairs and into the foyer of his house.

“I’m done,” she told him.

“Done
what
?” he questioned, trying to remain calm as she traipsed through his house, snatching her purse and her car keys from the table near the door.

“Done with you!” she yelled. “It’s over, Max. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

Max stared at her, trying to process her words.

For the first time in three weeks, she’d spent the night in his bed, and when he’d woken up, she had been lying beside him, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. When he’d whispered good morning, she’d lost her shit.

The woman had gone absolutely fucking crazy, and he had no fucking idea why.

When she headed for the door, he grabbed her arm, halting her instantly. She spun around so fast he didn’t have time to block the hand that came barreling toward his face. The loud crack of her palm against his cheek echoed in the tiled entryway, but he didn’t let her go.

“I’m not doin’ this with you anymore, Max. I’m tired of bein’ your fuck toy whenever you need a release. You call me over here, expect me to drop everything I’m doin’ and come runnin’ when you need me. Well, you can find someone else to entertain you because I’m finished.”

What the fuck? Had she fucking hit her head or something?

Max swallowed hard, holding on to the anger that surged inside him. Courtney almost sounded convincing, but he knew her better than she thought he did. He knew what she was up to, knew the game she was playing, and he was ready to pull his hair out because of it. Especially since everything she said was bullshit. He damn sure didn’t treat her like a fuck toy. Never had. She was coming up with excuses, that was what she was doing.

If she wanted him to believe her, she probably should’ve waited until she had a reason to be angry at him. As it was, they’d fucked until they were exhausted, and she’d curled up in his arms and fallen asleep. Surely he wasn’t supposed to believe she was pissed about that.

For the last few weeks, she’d been threatening the same thing. Telling him how much she hated him, how much she despised him. But she still ended up in his bed, still begging him to fuck her, still looking at him in that way that told him she was a liar.

Oh, he didn’t doubt for a second that she hated him. He understood that.

She was pissed because she’d found out the perfect world she’d thought was on the other side of her door wasn’t quite so perfect. Those rose-colored glasses she’d shielded herself with all these years had cracked, and what bled through wasn’t pretty. Life wasn’t what she’d thought it was, and she’d seen the other side.

Not only that, but she hadn’t run away. Nope. She’d stayed because she wanted to and simply tried to convince herself that it was his fault.

And here she was, making threats again, and he was tired of dealing with the shit. He had too much on his mind, too many problems to deal with; he had no time to put up with her childish behavior.

So, he made a decision right then and there.

Releasing her arm, he took a step back. “Go.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened but closed quickly. “I’m never comin’ back, Max.”

“Good,” he told her. His stomach cramped at the thought of her leaving him for good, but he needed her to come to terms with what she really wanted.

“Good?” she railed.

Max took a step closer to her. “You came to me, Courtney. Remember? You came to me a year ago, seeking me out. I was your mission; I was your job. You climbed into my bed; you allowed me to slide into your body. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. That’s on you. If you want to run away, if you want to pretend that you hate me when, in fact, you actually
don’t
hate me, you hate yourself for
not
hating me, then fine. Go.”

When she didn’t say anything, he continued.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of, Courtney. You know what I do, even if you want to pretend you don’t. All this time, you’ve tried to convince yourself that you don’t have enough dirt to take me down, but that’s not true, is it? I’ve got cameras in every inch of this place. I see everything that goes on. I know every move you’ve made.

“All the information you’ve found, I’ve wanted you to find. Never once were you the one in control, Courtney. That doesn’t happen in my world. Never underestimate me. You don’t get to have control; you don’t get to pull one over on me. I’ve known from the second you stepped through that fucking door what you wanted from me. Did you get it? Did you find what you needed to take me down?”

She swallowed but didn’t speak, her eyes never leaving his.

“You wanted to be here. You came back time and time again because
you
wanted to be
here
. I didn’t beg; I didn’t plead. You came on your own because you want me. You need me.”

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“I’m sure you do. But that’s fine because I hate you just as much. I hate that I want you so goddamn bad; I hate that I can’t sleep when you’re not here. I hate that you have more control over me than you even know you have and I’m powerless to do anything about it.”

“Liar,” she snapped.

Max grabbed her arms and jerked her to him. “I’m a lot of things, baby, but I’m not a liar.”

Courtney’s sharp inhale caused him to release her. Max wasn’t going to try to convince her to stay. It wasn’t working. She wanted to go, so she should go. And if she took what little knowledge she had and tried to take him down, he’d deal with the consequences. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

But if she didn’t… If she kept that information to herself, Max would know. He would know exactly how she felt about him, and that gave him a little bit of hope.

“Now go!” he yelled. “Get the fuck out of my house. Take your games and your bullshit and do whatever it is that you do. I’m tired, Courtney. So fucking tired.”

Her eyes turned glassy, and he knew she was fighting her emotions. She had wanted him to stop her, but he’d been doing that for the past year. He’d been trying to make her love him, and until she could admit to herself that she did, there wasn’t anything more he could do or say to change that.

“I’ve got shit to do,” he told her and turned away, his gut screaming in agony as he forced himself to leave her standing there. “You can see yourself out because I’m done.”

Max slipped into his office, shutting the door quietly behind him as he leaned against it, listening. Several minutes passed, but then the front door opened and closed, and he knew she was gone. Likely out of his life forever.

A knock sounded on the door, and he moved away, calling out that it was open.

“Sir? Everything okay?” Leyton asked when he stepped into the room.

“Fine,” he grumbled, turning to face him. “I want eyes on her at all times. I want to know every move she makes. I want photos. I want to know every fucking place she goes, who she talks to, what they fucking say.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Leyton,” Max continued, “I don’t want to hear one goddamn word about her. Understood?”

Leyton nodded, then slipped out of the room, leaving Max staring at the door. For the first time in his life, his heart actually hurt. He’d done the unthinkable. He’d fallen in love with the enemy, and now he had to pay for that.

He had to pay by watching her walk away, knowing there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do to change it.

Chapter Thirty-Five

No! This isn’t happening!

Present day

Saturday night, May 16th

Leyton watched as Max crumpled to the ground, his own blood roaring in his ears. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Two rounds…

Max’s body jerking backward…

Falling…

Falling…

Fuck!

Lifting his gun, Leyton aimed at the blonde woman standing in the shadows, the one he hadn’t even noticed when they’d pulled in, the one still pointing her gun at Max’s prone body. Without thinking, he fired one round, aiming for her leg, wanting to take her down but not kill her. At least not yet. She would have to pay for what she’d done, and he’d be the one to ensure that happened, but he didn’t have time to deal with her.

Angelica screamed as the bullet pierced her thigh, hopefully shattering bone, and the world came back into focus. Leyton ran to Max, rolling him onto his back, checking for a pulse.

There was blood.

So. Much. Fucking. Blood.

Everywhere.

Sal and Dane came running out of the house, and when they saw Max lying on the ground, chaos ensued. Somehow, Leyton managed to keep himself under control as his best fucking friend bled out on the concrete before him. Relying on every ounce of his self-control, he went to work, needing to stop the blood, needing to make the decisions. The ones that would—God willing—save Max’s life.

“Call nine-one-one!” Leyton ordered Dane, his voice stronger than he expected it to be. “And get her the fuck out of here. Call Doc, get him over here for her. Don’t tell a fucking soul she’s here. Got me?”

“Yes, sir,” Dane said, phone to his ear as Sal hefted the screaming bitch into his arms and marched her inside, slamming the door behind him.

“You better hang on, boss,” Leyton ordered Max, leaning down and listening to the man’s labored breaths. One shot had pierced his chest, and the other… Fuck. The other had been a head shot.

Max was bleeding profusely, and for the first time in his entire fucking life, Leyton was terrified of losing the only family he had. Ripping off his jacket, he wadded it in his hands and pressed it against the wound on Max’s chest. “You’re gonna be fine, boss. If you’re not, I hope you know I’m gonna fuck Ashlynn all over your goddamn house. Every room. In your bed. Your shower. Your favorite fucking chair. So you better fucking live through this so you can kill me for doin’ it.”

Lights flooded his vision as the ambulance pulled into the circular drive. Leyton didn’t leave Max’s side as the paramedics took over, doing all the shit they did when someone was … dying.

He managed to move out of the way, giving them plenty of room as he supervised the entire thing. He mentally ran down all the things he needed to do, all the people he needed to call while he watched them work on Max.

He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in, unwilling to lose Max. Not like this. Fuck. Not like this.

Several minutes later, they had Max loaded into the back of the ambulance. Leyton instructed Dane to follow them in the Escalade because he was going to go with Max. There was no way in hell he was leaving him. Not for a fucking second. But when he tried to climb in the ambulance, the paramedic informed him he couldn’t go.

“Wanna bet?” Leyton growled, getting right up in the man’s face. “If you don’t let me in there with him, you’ll need another one to come get you when you’re bleedin’ all over the goddamn ground. Yeah?”

The man’s eyes flared bright, and he took a step back, allowing Leyton inside. No one would keep him away, not a single fucking person.

This was his job… It was
his
job to protect Max.

And he’d failed.

Goddammit, he’d failed!

Chapter Thirty-Six

When they say life comes to a grinding halt … believe them.

By the time Courtney got home from the reception, she was tired and hungover. Apparently she’d had more alcohol than she’d thought earlier in the evening, and stopping abruptly after Max’s arrival had given her one hell of a headache.

Somehow she’d made it through the freakishly long night, although, for the past four hours, she’d wished that Max hadn’t left her there alone. She’d been the one to tell him they couldn’t act as though they were in love, but she’d actually wanted that. Just for a little while.

Just a little time to pretend her life wasn’t as fucked up as it was. To
not
have to pretend that she wasn’t in love with a gangster. She simply wanted to be normal. Although she didn’t really know what normal was.

Kicking off her shoes, Courtney grabbed the remote and turned on the television. It was nearly two in the morning, and she doubted there was anything worthwhile on, but if she had to be awake, at least it would keep her mind occupied. After all, Max had informed her that if he didn’t hear from her tonight, he’d show up.

As much as she wanted that to happen, she knew better. Smiling to herself as she remembered the things he’d said to her before they’d gone their separate ways, Courtney retrieved her cell phone from her clutch and was just about to dial Max’s number when she saw an image on the screen that halted the air in her lungs.

It was a breaking news story, a headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen while a dark-haired anchorwoman stared directly into the camera.

“Yes, it’s confirmed. We’ve just been told that Maximillian Adorite, leader of the infamous Southern Boy Mafia, has, in fact, been taken to the hospital. Apparently, Mr. Adorite was shot outside his home several hours ago. An ambulance was called to the scene, and he was transported to the hospital, but we don’t have much more information at this time. A suspect has not been named, nor do we have word on his condition, but our very own Tabitha Hornsby is on her way to Baylor Hospital, where she’ll give us an update as soon as she has more information.”

Courtney’s heart was racing, her legs trembling as she stared at the television set, waiting to hear more. Waiting for someone to tell her what was going on. It took her a few seconds to realize the cell phone she was clutching in her hand was ringing.

Glancing down at the screen, she saw it was Max’s number, and a broken sob escaped her as she punched the button on the phone.

“Max?”

“No. It’s Leyton.” The rough voice on the other end of the phone sounded as tortured as Courtney felt.

“What’s goin’ on? How is he?”

“He’s in surgery,” Leyton informed her. “I shouldn’t be callin’ you, but…”

“But what?” Courtney asked, her tone slightly hysterical.

“Samuel will probably kill me, but … Courtney, you need to get down here now. It… Fuck it all. It doesn’t look good.”

“What happened?” she asked. “Who shot—?”

“You know I can’t tell you that on the phone. Just get down here. Now.”

The line disconnected, and Courtney stared at the blank screen, tears streaming down her face. Max had been shot.

It doesn’t look good.

Leyton’s words echoed in her head.

Just get down here. Now.

Oh, God. She needed to get to Max.

Grabbing her keys and her clutch, she snatched her shoes from the floor but didn’t put them on as she ran for the door. She hopped in her car and headed for the hospital, all the while praying that Max wouldn’t die on her.

Twenty minutes later, she was running down the hall toward the intensive care unit waiting area, where Leyton had instructed her to go via a text message, her shoes in one hand, phone in the other. She came to a jarring halt when she saw Samuel and Genevieve talking to a doctor, Max’s brothers and sisters standing beside them. They looked devastated. Her heart broke, pain streaking through her chest as she watched Max’s mother crumble, tears running down her face.

“Courtney.”

Leyton’s deep voice pulled her from her trance, and she turned to see him standing off to the side. He was disheveled, his face creased with what she could only assume was worry mingled with the emotionally crippling pain that people felt when someone close to them was hurt.

“He’s…?” God, she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to hear, but she had to ask.

“He made it through surgery,” Leyton told her, pulling her against him. It was then that she realized her legs had weakened, her knees giving out completely.

“It was touch and go, but he’s still alive.”

“And…?” She knew there was more, more that he wasn’t telling her.

“They don’t think he’s gonna make it through the night, Courtney,” Leyton told her straightforwardly, his mouth inches from her ear as she pressed her face against his shirt, clutching his jacket.

She was suddenly cold. So cold.

Tears poured down her face; sobs wracked her entire body as she tried to process what Leyton was telling her. She had no idea how long they stood there, but it wasn’t until Samuel came over that she managed to pull herself together.

“Why is she here?” Samuel asked sternly.

Courtney noticed Ashlynn standing just a few feet away, her face streaked from her tears.

“I called her,” Leyton told the old man. “Max is gonna need her.”

“No, he’s not,” Samuel hissed. “He only needs—”

Courtney took a step back from Leyton, staring at Samuel in horror and disbelief. The move happened so fast she nearly got knocked to the ground when Leyton pulled Samuel by his shirt when the older man lunged for her.

“With all due respect,
sir
,” Leyton ground out, “Max is gonna need
her
. Not you. Not me. Not his mother or his sisters or his brothers. Max is gonna need
her
. If you want him to pull through this, you need to accept that right now.”

Courtney couldn’t believe what she was seeing, couldn’t grasp what she was hearing. Leyton was manhandling the leader of the Southern Boy Mafia. A man who could end Leyton’s life in a heartbeat, and surprisingly, Samuel wasn’t fighting him. That meant…

Oh, God. That meant that it was true. They didn’t think Max was going to make it.

“He’s right. He needs her,” Ashlynn said in a tortured whisper.

“Where’s…?” Courtney couldn’t force the question past her dry lips, but she had to know. “Where’s Angelica?”

Leyton released Samuel, and Max’s closest friend’s hardened gaze slammed into Courtney’s. She sucked in a breath. That look. She knew that look.

The hatred that consumed Leyton’s usually handsome features told her more than words ever would. She glanced over at Samuel, then Ashlynn. The fury she saw in their eyes confirmed her suspicions. Angelica had shot Max. She had… She had tried to
kill
him.

Courtney had to regain her composure. She had to get to Max. She needed to see him, to touch him, to tell him that he better not fucking die on her or she’d kill him herself.

“When can I see him?” she asked, her voice stronger. She managed to slip on her shoes, wipe the tears from her face as she pulled herself together.

“Only one visitor at a time,” Samuel said faintly, more human than Courtney had expected from him. “His mother—”

“
She
goes in first,” Leyton stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Samuel nodded, shocking Courtney as she watched the older man stroll away, returning to his wife’s side.

Courtney didn’t know what to say or do, so she allowed Leyton to lead her down the hall. When he stopped in front of a closed door, she looked up at him.

“You need to listen to me clearly,” Leyton said softly. “He can’t die. Do you understand what I’m tellin’ you? He can’t fucking die. You go into that room and you make him want to live, Courtney. You’re the only one he’ll live
for
. So get your ass in there and tell him he can’t die.” The last words were said on a hoarse whisper, a rough sob erupting from Leyton’s chest, and she understood just how much Max meant to him.

Nodding, she turned toward the door. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped inside. Leyton closed it behind her, and then she was standing several feet away from Max. Her heart stopped beating; her lungs ceased to work as she stared at the man in the bed.

There were cords and wires and machines everywhere. A nurse was checking the readout on something, standing beside Max’s bed. He looked… God, he didn’t look like the man she knew, the man she loved. His usually formidable presence was nowhere. In its place…

“Come sit with him,” the older woman instructed kindly. “Talk to him, dear.”

“Can he hear me?” Courtney whispered.

“We’ll never know until you try.”

Courtney slowly moved toward the bed, more tears slipping down her cheeks as she stared at the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she resented for being who he was. The very man she would spend the rest of her life loving if he would just wake up.

He had to wake up because she’d never bothered to tell him that she loved him. Not directly.

And in addition to that, the alternative just wasn’t acceptable.