Page 34 of Hunter

A pang of guilt twists in my chest. He doesn’t say it outright, but I can see it in the tension in his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. He’s stretched too thin, and it’s because of me. He’s trying to protect me, to give me some semblance of peace, and yet here I am, adding to the weight he’s already carrying.

He doesn’t need this right now, I think bitterly, not when his world is already crumbling in other places. But then how do I tell him to stop? How do I tell him I don’t want him to fight for me when every part of me desperately wants to feel safe again?

I clench my hands into fists, the conflict raging inside me. I should be grateful—he’s doing everything he can to find the person who kidnapped me. But instead, all I feel is guilt for beingone more thing on his already overflowing plate. I take a deep, shuddering breath, gripping my glass as the bartender sets it in front of me. As much as Maxim wants to protect me, I can’t help but feel like I’m being dragged into something far darker than either of us realizes.

“What’s a beautiful lady like you doing all alone at the bar?” a deep voice slurs behind me, and a clammy hand grips my shoulder.

The contact sends a jolt through me, and I stiffen. I shrug his hand off, but before I can breathe, it’s back again.

I turn, forcing my trembling hands to steady. “Don’t touch me,” I say, my voice sharp. “I’m not here alone.”

He smirks, leaning closer, his sour, alcohol-laden breath assaulting my nose. “I don’t see anyone, sweetheart. Don’t lie to me.”

My chest tightens as his words slither into my ears. I glance over his shoulder, searching the room for Maxim. Where is he? My eyes find him just outside, pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. Relief flickers, but it’s overshadowed by fear as the man leans closer, his hand brushing my lower back.

My body jerks like I’ve been shocked. “Stop,” I manage, my voice shaking, but he doesn’t listen.

“Come on, don’t be like that. We could have a good time?—”

The sound of his words cuts off abruptly, replaced by a bloodcurdling scream. My heart leaps as I whip around to see Maxim, his face carved from stone, twisting the man’s arm behind his back with brutal precision. The man cries out, his knees buckling, but Maxim doesn’t let up.

“You wanted to know where her boyfriend is?” Maxim growls, his voice low and deadly. He jerks the man’s arm higher, eliciting another agonized wail. “He’s right here.”

The bar falls deathly silent. My gaze darts around, desperate for someone—anyone—to step in, but the patrons are suddenlyengrossed in their own conversations, their drinks, their meals. No one dares interfere.

The man squirms, opening his mouth to beg, but Maxim cuts him off by shoving a napkin between his teeth. “I don’t want to hear a word out of that pathetic mouth.” His grip tightens, and the man’s face twists in pain. “That woman you put your filthy hands on? She’s my life. My future. My everything.” Maxim’s blue eyes burn with possessive rage as he leans in, his next words sharp and deliberate. “She’s mine. Do you understand me?”

I stand frozen, my breath hitching at the raw ferocity in Maxim’s voice. The weight of his words presses down on me, leaving me torn between the safety he offers and the fear of his unrelenting control.

The man shakes his head desperately, tears streaming down his face. I know I should step in and stop this before Maxim goes too far, but my voice is stuck, my body rigid.

Then, somehow, I move. My hand touches Maxim’s arm, tentative, like approaching a wild animal. “Maxim,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He stiffens at the contact, his breathing ragged. For a moment, I think he’ll ignore me, but then he shoves the man away with a sharp, almost casual flick. The man crumples to the floor, clutching his arm, and two staff members appear as if on cue. They haul him to his feet and drag him away without a word, disappearing into a side door.

I stare after them, my heart pounding. Where are they taking him? And why didn’t they stop this sooner?

Maxim turns back to me, his expression unnervingly calm. “Should we sit down?”

I blink, my mouth falling open. “Are you serious right now?” I take a quick breath and rephrase my comment. “We are both on edge right-” Maxim cuts me off mid-sentence.

“Don’t start, Sophia,” he says, his tone clipped, as if I’m the one being unreasonable.

“Don’t start?” I repeat, incredulous. “You didn’t need to do that, Maxim. I could’ve handled him.”

His jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing. He steps closer, looming over me, his voice low but brimming with intensity. “I will never stop protecting you. Do you understand that? Never.”

The words hit me like a slap, and my chest tightens. “You didn’t need to protect me,” I snap, my voice cracking. “I’m not some damsel in distress!”

His expression hardens. “You think I’ll just stand by while someone puts their hands on you? After what happened? I couldn’t protect you then?—”

“And you think this makes up for it?” I cut him off, my voice rising with the sharp sting of his words. My heart feels like it’s shattering all over again. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re using my trauma to justify being an overbearing, possessive?—”

“Stop it,” he growls, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I shake my head, disbelief and hurt clawing at me. “Do you? Do you even know what you’re saying, Maxim? Because all I hear is how my kidnapping affected you.” My voice cracks, and I fight to keep the tears at bay. “I was the one they hurt, not you.”

The weight of my words hangs between us, sharp and suffocating. His face falters, and for a brief moment, I see something flicker in his eyes—guilt, regret, maybe even shame. But it’s not enough.

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