Page 76 of Break

Nodding quickly, she smiles awkwardly.

Blowing out a breath in relief, I close my eyes for a moment to collect my thoughts.

“I understand your inability to leaveandyour situation.” I know she’s going to ask becauseourMina is getting more curious about us the more time she spends here.

She rests each of her hands on mine, drawing my gaze up to her face, and asks, “Tell me what you mean… Please?”

“Did Danny ever share anything about me or my family over the past few years when you were together?” I only ask because I want to know how much she knows.

Shaking her head, she says, “Nothing really. He would talk about hanging out with all of you, but nothing beyond that. I know your mom passed away a couple of years ago. I sent those flowers and Danny went to her funeral.” She chews on her lip, like she wants to ask a question but doesn’t know how to.

Nodding slowly, I pull my hand out from under hers and tug on her braid playfully. “He wouldn’t let you go, would he?”

“No,” she whispers. “He told me you wouldn’t want someone who you don’t get along with there. He said that it would be selfish if I went when the day was about you and we needed to give you what you needed.”

Growling, I shove my hand back under hers, flipping it palm up to squeeze her hand. “I’m sure you know now that he was full of shit. I would have loved for you to be there. Not many people came, and it was hard to see how isolated she had been in life.”

“Will you tell me what happened to her? Danny only mentioned that she died, but when I asked, he said it didn’t matter.” Of fucking course he did. How she died was the most traumatic part of my life, and the fact that he belittled it infuriates me. Mina must be able to tell that I’m upset hearing that, so she does her best to soothe me. “Max… you know now what kind of person he is. Don’t let his words tomeaffect you.”

I bite my cheek to hold back my anger at him. “I’ll try not to, but it still pisses me off.”

Her smile, again, soothes me, and I relax. “Please tell me, Max.”

Moving in a few inches closer, I try to ignore that her knees spread slightly to allow me closer. “My father murdered my mom.”

Mina’s mouth opens, but I squeeze her hand to stop her.

“I know you have questions, so let me explain.” Nodding at me, she silently asks me to continue. “My father abused me and my mom throughout my entire childhood. I don’t need to go into details, but he was a drunk. Violent and angryallthe time. When I was old enough, I couldn’t leave fast enough. Ihadto get out of there as soon as possible. That’s why I followed Vincent to college and moved in with him the moment we graduated.”

Mina’s eyes are full of empathy and understanding, so I feel confident to continue sharing. “I have a lot of regrets in my life,” I tell her, nodding toward her so she knows that she’s included. “And one of those is leaving my mom behind, alone with my father. I didn’t check in with her as often as I should have, so I wasn’t aware of how bad he had gotten. Like you, she found it difficult to leave and wasn’t sure how she would survive on her own without him. But shedidleave, and my father did not react well.”

Her lower lip is trembling, and it takes everything in me not to lay my lips on hers to make it stop. “What h-happened, Max?”

“She ran. He followed. My mom didn’t make it very far without help, and she didn’t know how to hide her tracks. It was only a day before he found her. When he did, he was so enraged that he went absolutely mad. He beat her so severely that he left her for dead. Eventually, someone found her and was able to call for help. But she didn’t survive the injuries he inflicted. She died soon after arriving at the hospital.”

I release her hand again when a tear falls down her cheek to wipe it away. “Your poor mother. Max… I’m so,sosorry that this was her story. I didn’t know her outside of a few get-togethers here and there, but what Idoremember was that she was a kind and lovely woman.”

This time, I don’t restrain myself as I move closer to her, moving my hands around to her back to pull her into me. Mina is quick to wrap her arms around my neck and my God, she gives me the tightest fucking hug I’ve ever received. I sink into it and enjoy the feel of her body pressed against mine; enjoy the feeling of injustice for my mother seep out of my body the longer she holds on to me.

“Thank you for saying that,” I say into her neck. I don’t press a kiss there, but I do let my lips graze her skin when I add, “I think when you shared your past, it sunk in that in an alternate universe, this could have been your story.” Pulling back from her, I meet her eyes. “That scared the shit out of me.”

“You don’t need to be scared for me. Not anymore. What happened to your father?”

Sighing, I divulge the rest of my shitty history. “They arrested him shortly after. He didn’t even run. My father assumed he was above the law and could beat the charges. So, when they brought him in, he never denied what he did, only tried to justify it. He’s in prison now and it’ll be years before he even has the option of parole. I plan on being there the moment he asks for it to shut it down.”

Mina’s eyes flick back and forth across mine, taking in what I’ve revealed. Then, it’s like a light bulb flashes on behind her eyes. “This is why you do what you do, isn’t it?”

Nodding my head slowly, I slowly run my eyes over her face, taking in her smooth skin and throw up a thanks that it’s no longer mottled with bruising.

“My mom is the only reason I do this. If she would have had help, someone to support her and assist her through her decision to leave, maybe she would have made it. She didn’t know all of her options and never reported anything to the police. She just ran, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.” Running my hands up her arms to her face, I cup the sides of her neck, my thumbs resting against the delicate line of her jaw. “I refuse to let it happen again when I can do something about it.”

We’re both silent as I hold her. Both of us subconsciously bonding over similar traumas in our life and developing a deeper understanding that our stories aren’t singular to ourselves.

“You’re a good man, Maxwell Bennett.” I feel her smile under my fingers, and I can’t stop from gripping her more firmly at her compliment.

“I want to be better.” And it’s the God’s honest truth. I want to be the best for not only Mina, but for every person who comes to Breaking Barriers for help.

“Your mom would be so proud of you.” Her words slice into me, and I have to blink away the agony of wanting to hear those words come from my mom’s lips.

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