Page 11 of Make Me Whole

He took a menacing step in my direction. “You’re not smart enough to record me, Skylar. And babbling this kind of nonsense without proof to the judge will only make you seem like a desperate, crazy woman who is trying to tarnish the image of the good mayor who cares for orphans and signed Windy River’s first law for free childcare. No one will ever believe you over me.”

“But they will believe Ella,” I blurted out, hoping it was true. “She’ll tell them what kind of mother I am and what kind of father you are.”

His blue eyes glimmered like a torch and hetskedhis tongue. “You’ll turn my child against me out of spite. Shit like that can lead a person to a mental hospital, darling.”

“Stop calling me darling,” I hissed, using the last of my strength and courage to get in his face. “And stop threatening me. I’m not your darling, and I’m not crazy. You are if you think I won’t fight you. I swear, Eli, if you take my daughter from me, I’ll end your reputation. If you think being labeled a playboy would be bad for your fucking political dream, just imagine the damage the titles absent father, cheater, and wife-beater would cause.”

His face morphed from just angry to deranged.

“You bitch,” he hissed and clasped his hand around my arm so hard it started going numb within seconds.

“Get your hands off me,” I shrieked.

Eli’s breaths fanned across my face. He smelled like coffee and toothpaste and evil. He opened his mouth to say something, but Max’s voice echoed from across the room first.

“If you value your life, let go of the lady and leave this house.”

I pulled my gaze from Eli and looked at Max. Gone was the kind man I was talking to just minutes ago. In his place was a man focused and glowing red with anger. Tears of pain, embarrassment, fear, and also relief pooled in my eyes as they connected with Max’s green irises.

“Don’t hurt him,” I whispered, knowing that Max was dying to introduce his fist to Eli’s face but that it would only hurt me more. When his hands stayed balled into fists, I added, “Please.”

Finally, Max’s hands relaxed. I sighed with relief.

Seeing our exchange, Eli tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me closer to his chest. With eyes never leaving Max and voice dripping with mockery, he said, “I have no fucking idea who you are, old man, but mind your business. The lady is my wife, and this doesn’t concern you.”

Max shifted his gaze from me to my ex, and a slow, threatening smile curled up his lips. He started walking toward us. “Listen,boy,from what I hear, you and Skylar have separated, which means she’s no longer your wife. Even if she was, what you’re doing is assault, and that’s a felony. One I’m now witness to, which makes it my concern seeing that she’s a friend. So, be smart. Let her go, and leave. I won’t ask again.”

Eli stared at Max for a moment, his breaths heaving behind my back. His fingers squeezed my arm a little tighter, his anger boiling over and onto me as usual. After a moment, he finally released me.

Scared and in pain, I fumbled over my own feet toward Max. His muscular arms wrapped around my waist as Eli turned his back and walked toward the door.

“You have two days to think about my offer, Skylar,” he sneered before slamming the front door shut.

My knees buckled from stress. I would have fallen if Max’s arms weren’t around me. In an effortless movement, he scooped me up and carried me to the couch. He sat down next me and inspected my arm where Eli’s hand had gripped me.

He sighed. “It’s already bruising. Let me get you some ice.”

I shook my head and clutched his hand. “Please don’t. Just stay with me a little.”

For the life of me, I didn’t know why I had asked that. All I knew was that Max had made me feel safe and cared for, and I didn’t want that feeling to end.

“Okay,” he replied in the kindest tone.

Turning his hand so our palms touched, he interlaced our fingers and brought our joined hands to his lap. His other hand came up to my face. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, then slowly grazed a finger down my cheek and jawbone.

Max’s touch was the polar opposite of Eli’s. It was warm and light, healing and surprisingly erotic. It sent the most wonderful tingles down every extremity and nerve end of my body. My eyes fluttered, and my lips opened just a smidge as I leaned into his touch. His index finger hooked underneath my chin, and his thumb stroked my bottom lip.

Everything about that connection was forbidden.

None of it made sense.

Still, it was the safest I had ever felt, so I enjoyed every second. I treasured the protection and comfort of this man I barely knew because I didn’t know if I’d ever be this close to him again. The thought was, somehow, more frightening than Eli’s threats and touch had been.

5

MAX

Ipushed the peas around my plate, not because I wasn’t hungry but because even after five hours my stomach was in knots over what had happened in Al’s living room. I couldn’t shake the image of that little weasel—in his Saturday suit, pimp-like golden watch, and douchebag side part—forcefully grabbing Skylar’s arm and making anger pump hot in my veins.

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