Page 13 of The Ruthless and the Strong

Max

I movedmy fingers through my hair.

I was in need of a haircut.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I had gotten one, but now the length was bothering me. Or perhaps, everything about this evening was bothering me. From the white button-down shirt I had on, sans tie, with the sleeves rolled up, to the black slacks and even my unshaven face. My hand moved down to the lower half of my face, feeling the rough stubble there.

It had been a week now, and though I kept it neatly groomed, there was something about growing a beard again.

I had come over straight to Olivia’s house after work.

I could have gone home to change, but I had been all over the place since this morning when Olivia texted and asked me to come over for dinner after work, and I didn’t have any more excuses I could give her.

She would have seen through my bullshit, anyway. And if there was one thing I hated in this world, it was disappointing that girl.

I opened the front door using my own key, walked inside the house, and was greeted by nothing but chaos.

Hunter was running around in the living room, holding onto the Captain Marvel action figure I had gotten him for Christmas two years ago, and Emma was following close behind, holding onto her little dolly that I had gotten her for her second birthday.

I didn’t know which child surprised me more, but the fact that they were both carrying the toys that I’d gotten them made me feel ridiculously happy.

Something like longing stirred in my chest, and I moved my hand up to my chest, rubbing away the small pinch of pain there.

I’d never had children. But I wanted some.

Perhaps it had started with Olivia. After spending so many years of my life taking care of her, I hadn’t found doing anything else that had felt that right.

And here I was, feeling like a complete fool. If anyone could read my mind now…

I shook away the whimsical thoughts and watched the children play. Emma was the exact replica of her mother. If I didn’t see my little brother’s smile on her face most of the time, I could almost convince myself that I had somehow been transported back in time, and I was seeing a two-year-old Olivia all over again.

She was the light of her parents’ eyes, and she was mine, too.

Hunter slowed down when he got to the circular curve of the huge dining table nearby, allowing Emma to catch up before he grabbed hold of her hand and rushed her away. Her infectious laughter could be heard throughout the whole house.

Hunter looked like Sam.

Except for his green eyes. Those devastatingly beautiful gems of his eyes, he got from his mother. But on him, they expressed a child’s innocence. Happiness shone from those eyes that told me he grew up loved, and if I thought back, I could remember that same innocence in Lizzie’s eyes when Olivia had first brought her home and introduced her to me.

I had seen it then.

The way she hadn’t figured out how to hide her expression, and her little crush on me had been obvious since that first meeting. I had made sure I would never be left alone in the same room as her, to let her feel secure and safe in her crush on me, to know that I would never, could never, hurt her like that. In my quest to keep my distance, I missed the change in them completely.

I didn’t know when that crush had turned into love, but when I figured it out, it was already too late, and there was nothing I could have done to crush it out of her; at least, nothing I could have done that wouldn’t have crushed her.

When Olivia came under my care when she was seventeen, I couldn’t hide from Lizzie. Couldn’t keep my distance from her. Couldn’t keep her safe.

At seventeen, Lizzie was beautiful in a way I had never noticed before. And I felt like the worst kind of monster for noticing. At eighteen, she absolutely gutted me with her wit, her passion, her fire.

At nineteen, I realized I wanted her to wait for me. Or let me wait for her. Allow me to let her grow up a little bit more before I selfishly made my move, made her mine.

But then she met Sam Costner, and it was too late.

I lost her.

I couldn’t make her mine now. Not when we both had to be adults and needed to put Hunter’s needs first.

A soft cry broke my reverie, and I moved over to Emma without thinking.

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