Page 10 of These Jagged Edges

"Promise us, okay?" Seeing how much he needs this, I nod.

He takes a deep breath and opens their front door. When I walk into the living room, I see Evie lying on the couch with ablanket pressed against her face. She's flushed, blotchy, and sweating. Her hair is coming out of its braid and sticking to her face; her shirt clings to her as if she's been running laps in the rain. I put my hand on her forehead and realize she’s burning up.

"She has a fever, but besides that, she's fine, boys." I stop and think for a second; this is uncharted territory. I know nothing about the three people surrounding me. I feel a small hand on my face.

"Are you sure?" Bash asks me, a look of relief washing over his face. His small hand feels warm on my cheek, and his eyes are hopeful.

"Yes." I set the boy down by his brother, needing to put space between the small boy and myself.

Rubbing the tingling sensation from my chest, I look between the two boys. You can’t help but notice they are identical, minus Charlie's glasses and unique eyes. Realizing I can't leave them alone while their mama is sick, I ask, "Where's Vic?"

The old man is constantly over here doing yard work, playing with the twins, or whatever small chore needs to be done. Not that I pay that much attention to what is going on over here.

"Fishing trip, won't be home until tomorrow," Charlie tells me over his shoulder. He's running a hand over his mama's hair. Anybody with eyes can see how much love is between them. On the random day’s Henry calls me to check on them, I feel as if I'm intruding on their private world. As if by just watching them I am tainting their world with my darkness.

"Okay, what about Lou or Aunt Joe?" I ask, scrambling to think who else I've seen hanging around here.

"We don't know." Fuck, Lou usually spends every spare minute she has over here.

"Where's your mama's phone?"

"She dropped it in the tub while washing puke out my hair," Bash tells me.

Well, shit! I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can do this.Think Maddox, fucking think. All I need is a strategy, just like in the ring. "Charlie, you and Bash go get dressed for the day, and I'll call Mercy to come visit for a bit."

They both just stare at me like I grew a second head. I may be an asshole, but I refuse to leave them like this. I'm an asshole, not fucking cruel. Beginning to feel irritated, I run a hand over my face and muster a tiny shred of patience. I can't blame them. I've been anything but friendly to all three of them, and yet here I am, trying to be helpful. If I was there only hope… these poor fucking kids.

"Sound good?"

Bash nods slightly before heading off. Looking at Evie, I can feel my anger simmering at the surface. How dare she scare these damn kids like this? I know she didn't choose to get sick, but still. Why didn't she ask someone for help? Stubborn ass woman just has to prove how independent she is.

I send Mercy a quick text and push my glasses back up on my face, taking a moment to absorb my surroundings. The house is cozy, and as I look around, I feel as though I’ve just stepped onto the set of that home renovation show with the couple from Texas. The living room welcomes me with its soft, neutral color palette—shades of creamy whites and muted grays warmed by the natural light streaming through the large windows. A plush, oversized sectional sofa, adorned with a mix of patterned and solid throw pillows, invites me to sink in and relax.

Some artwork is framed on the wall along with pictures of the boys at various ages, toy trucks are scattered on the rug in the living room, and a few plants hang from the ceiling on either side of the TV.

Their house is cozy and full of so much love it bleeds from the walls.

My throat tightens with emotion. Emotions I don't want to fucking feel.

I don't deserve to feel.

"Hey, wake up," I say, choosing not to touch her.

The woman is already jumpy and half-scared of everyone, especially me, even though she tries to hide it, but I notice the things she tries to hide in plain sight. Checking her locks three times every time she leaves the house, always looking over her shoulder, and how she eyes every car that comes down our street.

If she'd just come to the gym, Mercy instructs the self-defense classes and could teach her to protect herself. She reminds me so much of Mom the first few years after we finally got rid of Harold. Constantly on high alert, a skeptic of everyone, and always a bundle of nerves. That shit makes my blood boil, and that’s why I think every woman should learn to defend themselves.

She doesn't move an inch. I try again, "Evie, wake up." Nothing. Fuck it. "Evie, it's Maddox. I’m going to take you to bed." I pull the cover off her and gulp.

The woman wears well-worn sleep shorts that showcase two thick, milky thighs. Evie Taylor is not a slim woman. She has more curves than a roadmap and silky, creamy skin a man wants to run his hands all over.

The woman isn’t sculpted from God. No, only the devil could conjure up something as sinfully irresistible as Evie Taylor. One taste of her would never be enough; it’d turn the best of us deranged, leaving nothing but raw need in its wake. The way she moved, her scent, the warmth of her skin—it was all an invitation, a slow, torturous unraveling of reason. Her lips, soft and maddeningly close, held the promise of something forbidden, something that could never satisfy but only deepen the hunger. One taste would mark you, brand you, until you craved her with an ache so visceral it would haunt you in every waking moment and every restless dream.

To damn bad that man isn't me, I tell myself foolishly as I wipe my itchy palms on my shorts.

Being attracted to the little vixen isn’t the issue.

Make no mistake, Evie Taylor is probably the prettiest thing I had ever seen. She possessed a beauty that compels passersby topause in awe. Her hair cascades like rich, dark chocolate, flowing in soft, lustrous waves that danced with the light at every turn. Her unique, soulful eyes sparkle with depth and emotion, framed by long, delicate lashes that accentuate their allure. A pert nose complements her radiant features, while her full, pink lips beckon with an irresistible charm.

---