Page 49 of Sin and Redemption

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t thank me for that.” His harsh voice made me flinch. “Let’s hope we won’t have to do it again.”

He closed the door.

I pressed my lips together and began to cry. So many emotions flooded me that it was hard to tell what caused the tears. Relief, sadness, hurt, hope. Maybe this was a new beginning for me and a little baby.

I leaned against the door and listened to Sara’s crying. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt sick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thrown up. Probably as a teen as a result of too much alcohol.

When I couldn’t bear the sound of her devastation anymore, I went to the bathroom and took a shower. I needed to wash away the traces of what had just happened. The memories were harder to wash away.

I dried myself off and put on fresh clothes. My skin felt too tight for my body, and my heart didn’t stop pounding. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. I needed to get out of here or lose my fucking mind.

I picked up my phone and called Primo.

“I’m at a party.”

“I need you to watch Sara for me.”

The sound of girls’ laughter rang in the background. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I hung up and sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead, trying to suppress the need for destruction. I needed to let out the fire in my veins. I was about to go mad.

Keys turned in the front door. I got up, grabbed my car keys, and walked past Primo without a word. I felt on the brink of something really bad.

“I’ll give Amo a call. Don’t go out like this alone, Max.”

I didn’t say anything; I just walked out. I arrived at the Famiglia gym in record time. I didn’t even remember the drive there. My truck was parked askew across two parking spots. I stormed into the building and got on the treadmill, turning it to 12 mph. I’d never been a runner, not literally and definitely not metaphorically. I faced my problems head-on.

But this problem…

Fuck, what was I doing?

Sweat ran down my back and face, but the running didn’t help. My memories were chasing me. Sara’s soft sobs, the look in her eyes before I’d turned off the lights.

I’d always loved sex—the smell, the taste, the sounds, the sensations, the orgasms. Tonight had been a nightmare, almost as bad as last time.

Maybe it would have helped if I’d found a girl for a great fuck, but I couldn’t do this to Sara. Even if she probably didn’t care. She was my wife, and no matter if our vows were worth almost nothing, I wouldn’t trample on them like that too. I closed my eyes and ran blindly.

“Maximus!” someone shouted.

My eyes flew open, and I almost lost my footing. I turned down the pace to 7 mph and finally spotted Amo over on my right, watching me in concern. “I called your name twice before you reacted. Your survival skills are lacking.”

I didn’t smile, turned back around, and kept running. Running helped a little bit, but it wasn’t enough. What I really needed was blood and violence. Amo got on the treadmill beside mine and began jogging at a leisurely pace. His eyes were focused on me. “Primo called me, but he didn’t know what was wrong with you.”

“Who says something’s wrong?”

Amo rolled his eyes. “One look at your face tells me all I need to know. Now spill.”

I slanted him a look. Amo had been through a lot with his deceased wife, Cressida, and his hopeless love for Greta Falcone, but the tables had turned since he’d married Greta. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to confide in him, but not because I didn’t trust Amo. I had trusted him with my life before. For some inane reason, this seemed even harder than trusting someone with my life, though. It felt intimate and weak in a way that made my skin crawl. I jammed my finger on the screen and reduced my speed further.

“Sara wants a baby,” I said, then hit the stop button because the words alone made my heart race and my breath come in short bursts. The treadmill slowed to a stop, and I gripped the railings, suddenly in need of support. My heart pounded in my chest like crazy.

Amo hit the stop too and turned to face me, leaning against the railing. He frowned. “That’s not completely unexpected, right? She’s someone I always saw as a mom.”

“The problem is that she doesn’t want to use a fertility clinic. She wants to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Amo’s confusion grew. “Okay. You are wife and husband.” A hint of discomfort entered Amo’s expression. “And if you have trouble getting it up after the shit show of the past, then nobody would blame you. Pop a pill or two. It’ll get better. Sara’s an attractive woman.”

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