Page 141 of Invisible String
“Yes, I’d love to watch you. It’s my favorite thing to do.”
His lips curve, and he flexes, earning a laugh from me. Just before he walks to the weights, he kisses my cheeks and smacks my ass.
Last night was mesmerizing.As Max stood in front of the mirrored wall, he gripped the steel barbell with determination. His muscles coiled and flexed with each powerful lift, his veins tracing an intricate map across his forearms. The sweat glistened on his tatted skin under the gym lights, highlightingevery defined contour. It was impossible to look away as he exhaled deeply and pushed himself further, the intensity in his eyes making the air around him thrum with energy. Holy shit, can he lift!
As he ducked under the ropes and stepped into the ring with Carlos, his veins bulged, like it was filling him with a euphoric rush. Every punch he unleashed was like a bolt of lightning, crackling with energy and precision. His feet moved with a confident rhythm, pivoting and gliding across the canvas as if he were performing a well-rehearsed dance, each step a testament to the countless hours of training. Every second, he’d wink at me, causing me to blush, my underwear growing wetter by the minute.
For dinner, we went to a Japanese protein restaurant. It was simple. I don’t need anything extravagant. Being with Max is all I need. After dinner, before we walked in the door, he had me pinned to the wall. Like always, he shows me how much I mean to him. With his touch, his beautiful words… Did I say touch? His hands are always on me, regardless of where we are or what we are doing. Max is someone I couldn’t bear to live without.
This is why I feel guilty parked in front of his dad’s house. I’m hiding shit from him. He would never want me to meet his dad in his condition and in danger myself. I’m not sure how violent this man is. I had asked Max if, when he goes to check on him, his dad has ever tried hitting him. Max only laughed and said, “I think the old man knows better. I’m not a child.” So here I am, with a baseball bat in my hand, while I exit the car. I’m a stubborn woman; I fought with Johnny to park on the side of the street far from view. And begged him not to tell Max. The house Max grew up in is beautiful. Okay, scratch that. He didn’t grow up here. Although he was here for a short time. It’s an older home but beautiful with a green lawn, unlike the cookie-cutter homes being built now.
One, two, three knocks in a row. My heart is beating like crazy, and my palms are sweating.
Breathe, Rainey.
The door cracks open. My jaw drops when a man stands in front of me who shares Max’s tan skin, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders. He looks like an older version of Max. Despite the dark circles beneath his eyes, he remains handsome. His gray beard is unkempt, and there’s a scent of alcohol on him.
“Mr. Cano.”
“What do you want? Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested,” he snarls.
I swallow. “Umm, no. I’m not selling anything.”
“Then what do you want?” He eyes the baseball bat. “Are you here to rob me? Because I have shit for money, just booze, and you don’t look like a woman who’s capable of killing a man.”
“No, I’m not here to rob you, but if you lay a hand on me, I won’t hesitate to knock you out. I would like to speak to you. I’m Rainey, your son’s girlfriend.”
He’s taken aback with furrowed brows. He’s not slurring, which means he’s not drunk. It’s close to eleven in the morning.
“I didn’t know he had a woman. Why are you here? Did he leave you pregnant, and do you need money? Because he has money.”
I sigh. “May I come in?”
He surveys the area. “You’re alone? Where’s Max?”
“He’s at work. He doesn’t know I’m here,” I admit. I honestly don’t think he’ll get violent and hit me.
He nods and steps back, allowing me to enter. The house is somewhat clean except for dirty dishes, bottles, cans of beer, and the stench of something rotten.
“So you’re dating Max. Did he tell you he killed my wife? He’s the reason she’s not here. He’s going to do the same to you. He’s good at destroying everything. He’s a bastard, a selfish one.”
Venom races through my veins. How he speaks of his son. A child—Max was only a child.
“Enough! How dare you badmouth your only son? He was in that accident as well. He could have died.” I keep my voice from breaking.
“He didn’t. I lost my wife, my everything?—”
“He lost more. He lost his mother, his father, love, a family. He lost the security of a loving family. He lost trust in people.” I walk toward the fireplace mantel and pick up a photo of Max and his mother. My eyes water. What a beautiful photo of such a beautiful woman. Max gets his smile and the color of his eyes from her. “You beat him. The scars on his back are from you.”
“I…I didn’t leave him scarred.”
Of course, he doesn’t remember that he was drunk every time he’d hit him.
“You did. That’s why he was taken away from you.”
He nods. “Yeah, from a little bruise, but not from me.”
“Mr. Cano?—”
