Thisbullshitbeing his family alienating him, hating him, hurting him, and murdering my father.
Holy shit. Was he getting cold feet? Ruthless, coldhearted, brutal Maverick was getting cold feet, when I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on Chavez? What kind of alternate universe were we living in?
“By walking right into their hands?” I shot back, incredulous. My fingers gripped the edge of the bed where I sat, my knuckles whitening. “They’ve never played fair, never given you an inch without taking a mile. This is no olive branch, Mav. It’s a fucking cobra waiting to strike.”
His expression softened for a fraction of a second, the hard lines of his face melting away as he stepped closer. “I know you’re scared,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “But I have to do this. For closure. Forus.”
I jerked away from him, irritated now. “Fuck closure,” I hissed, knowing exactly how hypocritical I sounded. “You go there, and it very well might be the last thing you ever do. And what then? Leave me here to pick up the pieces, widowed?” The thought alone sent shivers down my spine, fear and anger intertwining into a potent cocktail of desperation.
“Baby, I—” Maverick started, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture, my hands slicing through the air.
“Don’t ‘baby’ me when you’re thinking about walking into a lion’s den!” I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, the ferocity of my emotions turning my words into weapons. Instead of deflecting, I was projecting. “Think, Maverick! They want you vulnerable, they want you alone. And you’re going to give them exactly what they want? They’ve never given a shit about what you want.”
His eyes flared with hurt before he sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. The muscles in his biceps flexed with the motion, the ring on his finger glinting in the light.
“Sophie, I can handle myself. You know that.”
Why was he being so fucking calm about this? He’d been so resentful toward them, so hellbent on taking their empire down with me, and now he was going to fucking throw away what he fought tooth and nail for.Me. A fucking future forus.
My shoulders dropped and tears welled in my eyes. No point in trying to be strong now. “Then why does it feel like you’re handling yourself straight into an early grave?” The question hung between us, heavy and suffocating. “Don’t do this, Mav. Please. I’m begging you.”
The plea in my voice clashed with the resolve in his, an unspoken battle raging in the few inches separating us. But even as I stood my ground, I knew the pull he had on me.
“Trust me,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges. Gravelly, almost. “I’ve got this.”
“Trust goes both ways, and right now, you’re asking for a hell of a lot.”
Maverick’s control was slipping; I could tell by the way he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sophie,” he growled, his jaw clenching so hard I could almost hear his teeth grind, “did it ever fucking occur to you that I’ve been preparing for this mywhole damn life? If it’s a trap, then so be it. I’m no stranger to bloodshed. You knew that when you married me.”
I recoiled as if slapped, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You can’t just march into death with your eyes wide open and call it fate, Maverick!”
“Then what do you call it?” His voice was lethal. “Fate, destiny, a fucking family reunion. It doesn’t matter! If they want me dead, I’ll take as many of them with me as I can.” He paced the room, a caged predator moments away from breaking free.
Normally I’d be salivating at the thought of a savage Maverick, but right now, I was blind with rage. With hurt, because he was willing to leave me behind.
“Jesucristo jodido,” I muttered. “Where the fuck do I fit into this, hmm? And, fuck, you’re talking about familicide like it’s a business negotiation!” Disbelief and fear coiled through me. I couldn’t believe we were actually talking about this.
“Isn’t it though?” He paused his relentless pacing. “We’re all playing the same twisted game here, babe. Only difference is I’m not afraid to admit it. Both of our parents will lose their lives due to failedbusinessnegotiations.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” My anger rose to meet his, and it was amazing that I was still sitting. The bed under my thighs was grounding me to this planet, to the fear that was snaking through me. Or maybe it was paralyzing me. I couldn’t tell. I just knew I was fighting a panic attack like I’d never felt before. “It’s suicide. You might as well be walking straight into a firing squad.”
“Maybe I am,” he said with a shrug that set my nerves on fire. Now I did jump up, my hands balled into fists, becausewhatthe actual fuck? What about me? “But at least I know where I stand with a gun pointed at me. It’s these fucking civil conversations that fuck with my head.”
“They never wanted you, Maverick!” The truth came spilling out, bitter and cold, itching to hurt him the way he was hurting me. “Your whole life, they made it clear you were the odd one out. Why would they have a change of heart now?”
“And that’s exactly why I have to go, Soph. To finally look them in the eye and show them I don’t give a shit about being the black sheep. I’m done with their games.”
I just gaped at him, knowing the heartbreak was showing on my face as tears leaked from my eyes. Here I was, once again willing to throw my life down for someone I loved only for them to not return the sentiment. I guess I would always love more than I could be loved.
Then he was cupping my face with a tenderness that belied the steel in his voice. “I have to end this, baby. For the both of us. So we can move on.”
“Move on?” I laughed, hollow and strained as those damn tears persisted. “There’s no moving on if you’re six feet under.”
“Then trust me to come back to you.” The promise in his eyes was fierce, unwavering. Almost enough to instill confidence.
“Trust isn’t bulletproof, Maverick.” I swallowed. “And neither are you.” I knew deep down that my words were as futile as trying to stop a hurricane with my bare hands.
My husband’s lips pressed against mine, a bittersweet taste of desperation and desire. I had the sudden sense that this could be the last time he kissed me like this—or ever again, period. I sobbed, because I knew I couldn’t stop him. He would do whatever he wanted, like he always did, except this time I knew he wouldn’t come out on top.
