Flawed Heart (House Of Obsidian #1) (2 page)

“You’ve barely called me, and you always come when I suck you off. There’s another girl, isn’t there?”

Always come? God, she forgets half of it because she’s so drunk more often than not when we’re getting down and dirty. If she were sober, she’d realize I barely ever come when she sucks me off, because she’s a fucking sloppy lover. Not that I’m super, I prefer to fuck her when I’m drunk too, so I guess we’re even on that playing field.

But this right here is the reason why. She talks way too much.

“Demi,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, “I’m not fucking seeing anyone else.”

“Then why didn’t you come?”

“Because I’m stressed,” I mutter, running my hands through my hair.

“You’re lying.”

She starts crying. I do not have the patience for this today. I step over, wrapping my arms around her while grinding my teeth. “Baby, I’m not lying. I’m seriously stressed.”

She sniffles and looks up at me. “Are you sure? Because if there’s another woman . . .”

And end the tears, enter raging bitch. This girl has more than one personality, I’m sure of it.

“Demi,” I warn.

“I have power,” she says, studying my face. “You don’t want to dump me, Max. I’m the best thing you’ve got.”

Fuck me. Last time I checked, it was meant to be me threatening her for the title of power. This shit is getting more warped by the second.

“I could say the same.”

She jerks back and glares up at me. “Are you threatening me, Max?”

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms. “How did we go from me not coming, to me threatening you?”

She steps away and crosses her arms, too. “I’m starting to think we need a break.”

I sigh.

We had a break last week. It lasted two days. She saw another girl at a party dancing with me, and suddenly she couldn’t live without me. This girl has way too many hormonal fluctuations for me to be able to follow. One minute she’s happy, the next she’s losing her shit.

“Do you even care?” she yells.

Right, I’m supposed to react to her little threat like any normal boyfriend would. “Of course I fucking care, but I’m not going to play mind games with you, Dem. You either wanna be with me, or you don’t. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance to take your place.”

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she whispers, then turns and storms out.

I’m starting to think getting to know blue eyes would be the easiest part of my life right now.

“I
mmy,” I soothe, holding my daughter to my chest, rocking her backwards and forwards. She’s got high fevers and vomiting, and because of that we’ve been awake for the past two nights.

It’s hard doing this on my own sometimes. Especially times like these. I know Max would want to know about her, if I gave him the chance, but I never did. I haven’t seen him since the night I left five years ago. The love of my life. My hero. My husband. I just disappeared one night, because I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t take the demons he was hiding in his head. Demons I didn’t even know about—because he just shut down and wouldn’t tell me.

He fell out of love with me, because of those demons.

And my heart broke.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I look up to see Pippa, my housemate, standing at the door. Pippa was kind enough to take Immy and I in six months ago when I came back to town, to be with my mom when she fell ill with cancer. Mom’s is terminal, and I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her. The only way to do that was to move home, but she doesn’t have the space in her tiny house so I had to get a new job and find a place.

Pippa is a sweet girl, and is dating a member of a motorcycle club. She’s kind hearted, and a good friend. I’ve not had a great deal to do with the club, but they seem like great guys. I just try to stay out of it, especially after I found out Max, my husband, helped her in a recent situation she had with some bad people and the club.

Max still lives here, in the same town. He runs a club that has a massive underground fighting ring, called
House Of Obsidian
. The club has been in his family a while, but the fighting ring was something Max started.

I never thought he’d go down that path. Max was always going to be a football star, but when we fell in love and got married, things changed. I never wondered if he regretted his decision not to follow his dreams, because he seemed so happy with me.

Until everything changed.

“I’m okay.” I smile, stroking my daughter’s hair.

“Do you want me to fill her cup? Or get a towel? Something warm for her tummy?”

I love Pippa.

“We’re okay, Pippa.”

She comes into the room, and gently strokes Immy’s hair. Pippa is a beautiful soul, and a really pretty girl. With her pretty big eyes and light blond hair, she would seem like your typical beauty, but she’s not. She’s tiny, and fragile, and quiet most of the time. I don’t think she truly knows how beautiful she is.

“What did the doctor say today?”

“He said to keep her hydrated; there’s not much else we can do.”

Her eyes get soft. “It’s time likes these having help would be good.”

“You’re telling me.”

We both fall silent. She knows about Max, she knows what he means to me, and she’s not once pushed for me to go and see him, even though he asked her about me the night he saved her life. She didn’t tell him a lot, but he knows I’m here and he hasn’t once tried to find me. I guess that answers everything for me—he doesn’t want to see me.

Or maybe he’s as terrified as I am of reliving a past we’ve both obviously tried to bury.

“Do you want me to sit with her a few hours, while you get some rest?” Pippa offers.

“No.” I offer a weak curl of my lips. “But thanks. Maybe tomorrow?”

She nods. “Night. Yell out if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Pippa. Goodnight.”

When she goes, I lay down with Imogen and tuck her against me, wrapping my arms around her. My eyes are heavy and sore, and the moment I feel her breathing even out, I let them close on a sigh.

Yes, it’s hard sometimes, but she makes all of it worth the effort.

~*~*~*~

“H
ow’s Immy?” Mom croaks, smiling at my daughter who is watching television at her house the next day.

I let my eyes scan over my daughter, who has some color in her cheeks today. Thank God. “After she fell asleep last night, she seemed to pick up. I’m so thankful; she was so unwell.”

Mom nods and looks over to me, still smiling. Her eyes are dull, no longer the vibrant green they once were. She lost all her hair when she underwent chemotherapy, so she’s wearing a beautiful silk scarf around her head. She’s still beautiful—she’ll always be beautiful—she just looks exhausted. The doctors have given her a few months, but they said she could go downhill at anytime.

That thought is terrifying. The very idea that each day with her could possibly be the last makes my stomach turn with a desperate need to do everything I can to prevent losing her. I can’t do anything, though. That’s just the cold hard truth of the matter. I can’t change the inevitable. We’ve exhausted all our options, and in the end, Mom has had enough.

“How’re you feeling today?” I ask her.

Her smile wobbles. “Not so great, but I’m managing.”

“The nurse still comes by on time weekly?”

She nods. “Yes, she’s wonderful.”

I give her a pained smile, sometimes I feel like I’m not here enough for her. Between working at night and looking after Imogen, I’m finding it hard to spend every second with her, like I wish I could be. “If you need anything, Mom, you know you can call me?”

She reaches over, grasping my hand. “I know sweetheart, but Immy has been sick.”

“I know, but I’ll always find the time to help.”

“You’re here every day, while trying to work and take care of her. You’re doing enough.”

I squeeze her hand. “How is work?” she questions.

“It’s fine, Mom. It’s easy enough.”

“Tina loves having Immy around.” She smiles.

Tina is my older sister and a lifesaver when it comes to working the few day shifts I occasionally get. She takes Immy and it saves me money trying to find a carer for her, or putting her in care. Besides, it makes me feel better knowing Immy is with family, and not in a new town, with new people she’s afraid of. Though I’m sure she’d do fine in care, I guess it’s more me that it upsets.

“I’m so glad they get to spend time together,” I finally say.

Mom nods. “Yes, it’s wonderful. We missed so much of her life.”

My smile wobbles, and Mom squeezes my hand again. “Have you seen Max?”

I shake my head. “No, and I really don’t want to right now.”

Her eyes grow sad. “You don’t think Immy deserves to know him?”

“I don’t know right now. He is a fighter, Mom. I’m not sure that he’s a good man and the last thing I want to do is introduce Immy to her dad, let her fall in love with him, and then have her heart broken if it goes wrong. I have to be very careful how I play this.”

Her eyes flash and she nods sadly. “You’re right about that, it’s best to take it slow because he has changed. A good deal.”

“You’ve seen him?”

“Once or twice around town. I haven’t spoken to him.”

My heart aches at the thought of seeing Max again. Seeing the face I loved so dearly. I still love him. I think I’ll always love him. He’s the kind of man you can’t just forget. He changed my life in so many ways—he gave me a daughter, and he was everything I could have ever wanted and more. Then he broke my heart.

“It’s probably for the best.”

Before she can answer, a knock sounds out at the door. She looks to me, narrows her eyes, and then stands and walks over, staring through the peephole. She makes a gasping sound, and then turns. “It’s as if he heard us speaking about him.”

My spine goes straight and I whisper, “He’s out there?”

She nods. I turn to Immy, who is still watching television. I can’t get her out without going through the front door, but I’m not ready to see Max. Not yet. I stand quickly, knocking over a chair. I rush over and grab Immy. She protests, but I quickly whisper, “Mommy has candy in the room! You want to share?”

“Oh yeah!” She smiles.

“Go into my room,” Mom whispers. “I’ll get rid of him.”

I rush Immy into Mom’s room, which isn’t far away. I grabbed my purse on the way and I’m digging out candy as I go. I shut the door quietly, and hand Immy a packet of candy. She starts busily opening it, and I walk over to the door, my heart is pounding so much I can feel it in my head.
Boom. Boom. Boom.

“Max,” I hear mom say.

I really have to keep Immy quiet; the walls are like paper in this house.

“Heather,” he says, his voice low and thick.

My heart leaps into my throat and I fight the tears that burst into my eyes at the sound of his voice. It’s changed so much, yet it’s still the same. It seems thicker, gruffer, and deadlier.

“It’s been a long time.”

“You’re unwell,” he says. It’s not a question, but a fact. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry about Jason; I heard he passed a while back.”

Mom is silent for a while, and then says, “Yes, he did, and thank you for your kind words. I’m not well, no. I’m dying.”

More silence.

“Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She sighs. “I wouldn’t expect you to, Max. Now why are you here?”

“Is she still in town?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, and try to fight the tears.

“Yes, she is, but she doesn’t want to see you, and I think it’s best for everyone if it stays that way.”

“I just want to see that she’s okay. I’m not going to bother her. Tell me where she is . . . so I can just . . . see her.”

A tear bubbles forth and I swipe it away quickly.

“I can’t do that, Max. You know I can’t.”

He mutters a silent curse. “Is she okay? At least tell me she’s okay. It’s all I want to know.”

He just wants to see if I’m okay. He doesn’t want to see me, or talk to me, just check to make sure he didn’t break me for good. That hurts. It hurts more than I’d ever thought it would. Since he found out I was back, Max hasn’t come after me, so I don’t know what I truly thought would happen, but I guess I thought he’d want more than to just see if I’m surviving.

“She’s doing well, Max. She’s managed to pick herself up and move on.”

Oh God, she knows that’s not true, but I know why she’s saying it and I’m grateful for her lie.

Max is silent.

“I’m glad,” he says, his voice sounding raspier.

He sounds hurt. My heart burns.

“If she wants to see you, Max, she will but I ask you . . . please don’t push this.”

“I get it,” he mutters. “I won’t push, but . . . tell her I came by, will you? I’d like to talk to her, to finish this properly. The fact is we’re still married, and eventually we have to work out where to go from there.”

“I’m sure being married hasn’t stopped you from having relationships in the past five years, Maximus,” Mom says, her voice a little icy. “Therefore, a divorce can be given over the mail. She will see you if she wants to see you.”

“The relationships I’ve had since then are my business. As for the divorce over the mail, we both know it’s not that easy. I’m still living in a house with her fucking things in it,” he snaps.

I flinch.

He’s had relationships? The very idea of Max with another woman hurts so much a strangled gasp leaves my throat. Of course I expected he’d move on . . . but thinking of it hurts more than I ever could have imagined. Not to mention he still lives in our old home. I’ve wanted to drive past it so many times, but haven’t been able to bring myself to do it, scared of the painful memories. Knowing he’s still there makes it so much worse.

“I’ll let her know, but I won’t push my daughter, Max, and neither will you.”

He makes a frustrated, sighing sound. “I’m not here to argue. If you see her, tell her I want to talk to her, but I won’t pressure her to do that. I’ll leave you to it.”

My mom says nothing more; she just closes the door with a soft click. I look over to Immy, who is digging through the candy packet and lining them up on mom’s bed. She’s oblivious, thank God. I need her to be, because the tears running down my face can’t be controlled. Mom appears in the doorway a second later, takes one look at me, and wraps me in her arms.