Berserk Page 2

  Out of nowhere she shows up even more beautiful than I remember, and instead of being happy she was here, I just got pissed. I’m pissed she was no longer hiding her looks, wearing baggy clothes, or walking with her eyes on the ground. She was a confident woman, my confident woman, and I missed the transformation. The selfish part of me wants to take credit for who she was now, but deep down I know I had little to do with it. Once she saw Macy and Venessa were provided for she was ready to jet, I could feel it. And it was because of me. So in an act of desperation I told her we needed to talk, then cuffed her, and now I have not fucking clue what to do with her. I want to be pissed, I should be pissed, but mostly I’m just hurt. She isn’t the teenager that tripped over feet to get to me anymore; now she’s a grown woman who looks at me like I’m causing her pain, and that pisses me off too.

  Now she’s back and full of secrets. If the last eight years prove anything, it’s that I don’t know my wife very well, but I know that I want to. I refuse to believe that the girl I married is gone.

  Slamming my door shut I stomp back into the house, open her bag, grab the three mobiles in it, and go into our room. That’s right I said our room. I bought this house for us. Not me, us.

  Opening the door, she’s asleep. She looks uncomfortable, and it makes my stomach hurt. I want to uncuff her, but I really don’t trust she won’t kick my ass. You don’t spend ten years in her line of work and not learn some things. Gallo kept me in the loop with her training and her missions. He also told me that she’s is extremely scary to watch in action. She’s small but she’s shifty; growing up on the streets, she had to be. It obviously stayed with her and pays her well.

  Flaming red hair, olive skin (which I could never figure out), small feet, tiny hands, breasts that fit in my palms, an ass that fills out a pair of jeans, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. I married my fantasy. My favorite feature has to be her mouth, though. Not just because when she’d use it on me it was pure magic, but because I never know what’s going to come out of it. Pulling the cover down I expose her to me, and it’s all I can do not to lick her skin, it’s still so perfect. Shifting on the bed she turns exposing her naked hip and I see a tattoo. It’s not just any tattoo. It encompasses her entire side and hip. It’s a huge piece of art, and it had to hurt. It’s of a man whose face is blurred standing straight, holding out a helmet. The helmet says “Blue” on it, which was my nickname for her. The man isn’t smiling, he just stands there, legs crossed waiting for his woman to come to him. That man is me and god dammit I didn’t come for her.

  “Staring at my ass again?” Fuck but her voice, like a two-pack-a-day smoker who likes whisky and jukeboxes. I almost forgot how raspy her voice was in the morning.

  “When did you get this?” I ask her tracing the outline with my fingers. When she tries to turn away I bring her back and she answers me quietly, “A long time ago.”

  “I’ve never seen it.”

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t have would you?” she says, narrowing her eyes, and in them I see years of hurt that I caused. In that moment it clicked and caused my chest to tighten. “This was my surprise, wasn’t it?”

  Taking a deep breath she closes her eyes, and I get it. Yes, this was the surprise she had for me, the one I never got to see. When I close my eyes she continues to kill me with that voice I missed. I’m so fucking lost right now, I can’t even look at her.

  “It was a long time ago, Max,” she whispers “What am I doing here? Why are you wasting time on me by doing this? Why do you have my phones?”

  “We’re going to sort that out, Blue,” I say and I don’t like it when it looks like hearing that hurts her “That’s why you’re here. I’m not letting you leave again. As for the phones, they won’t stop buzzing.”

  “It’s probably Bishop,” she says. “I haven’t checked in.”

  “Who in the fuck is Bishop?” I growl at her.

  “My partner.” She growls back at me, and if she wasn’t cuffed I’d probably back up a little.

  “Not anymore,” I say. “The only partner you have is me. You remember me, right? Your husband?”

  “I can’t do this with you right now, or in a perfect world… ever,” she says. “I need to call Macy.”

  “Already did,” I say. “Told her you’d be unavailable for a while.”

  “You can’t do this,” she says. “I have a job. People will be looking for me.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that,” I say. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  “I already did.”

  “Then until you tell me the truth,” I say leaning in. “You’re stuck with me.”

  She starts thrashing and swearing, which I’d never tell her does it for me. It’s rare that she loses her temper. Even more rare is that I’ve never seen it up close, and I’m enjoying the hell out of it. Walking to the door and looking back on her I make another vow: even when she tells me the truth, she still isn’t leaving. I’m done letting her go.

  Making a decision I put on a pot of coffee, pull out her phones, and plan on giving her thirty minutes to calm down before I uncuff her. She’ll wait until after she uses the bathroom and has a cup of coffee before she attacks me, at least that’s what I’m hoping for. My wife never was a morning person.

  Scrolling through her phone with the purple case I realize this must her personal phone, because all the messages are from Macy, Venessa, or Lina. The phone with the gray case is for work email and photos as far as I can tell, and the case phone with the black case is the one she uses to communicate with Bishop, the Don-Juan-looking prick she’s always attached to. Their conversations don’t suggest anything from what I can see, and I’m making a real effort not to read too much into it. That is, until I saw pictures of me, my club, and Gallo.

  What the fuck?

  “Boss,” he says, holding my hair back. “Let’s get you checked out, you been puking for hours.”

  Spitting in the sink and running my wrists under the cold water, I close my eyes silently begging for this to stop. “I’m fine, Bishop,” I tell him over the running water. “It’ll pass.”

  “You puked blood, Boss,” he says rubbing my back. “I ain’t no doctor, but blood ain’t ever good.”

  I knew it wasn’t good but, I figured I’ve thrown up so much I probably tore something, and told myself if it wasn’t better by Monday I’d go in. I wasn’t ready to say anything, not until I told him first. Besides, telling him on the biggest day of my life seemed romantic to me. I graduated tomorrow, I’d tell him tomorrow night.

  I could get through these next few days, I knew I could. If I could get a degree, I could keep my shit together until Max came for me.

  The smell of coffee has me lightheaded, and a full bladder has me really uncomfortable. Lying here, I made a decision to stay and see things through. Of course, I could leave and walk away from what’s happening here and leave Max behind forever, but I won’t. I’m not staying for Max or our poor excuse of a marriage. I’m staying to make sure my friends are safe and that Max’s name is clear. When the time comes to leave I can say that I finally saved Max the way he saved me all those years ago when he gave me hope. He gave me a future to look forward to; he deserves one in return. The wild card here is Anthony Gallo. This guy has his hand in everything, and for whatever reason Max was letting him run things from Lush. Gallo has connections, I just don’t know how or why and when Max needed him he bailed. I’m going to demand answers for that, too.

  Lush is in trouble.

  Not because of Max or Tony specifically, but they are a part of it. From what I could find out in the last year alone a dozen girls have been taken at Lush, either entering or exiting it. Despite high security, the location makes it easy for women to be taken without notice. Venessa started her DJ gig there ages ago, and Macy of course came in to see Venessa. Out of nowhere Venessa was arrested (under false pretenses because I hacked into her records), and suddenly Gallo brought the full court press. Macy had designed a ver
y powerful drug that someone wants, and whoever it is will go to any length to get it, which put both of them in serious danger. Turns out the two of them were testing it out on the streets, and someone took notice. Wrap that all up and Lush is a fucking mess with Gallo missing in action, which makes zero sense to me.

  You’ve got players coming in from all over. Guns, girls, and drugs are a small part of this. These new players want Detroit for themselves, and the Detroit I know doesn’t welcome newcomers. If I don’t get answers the streets are going to get bloody. War is coming, and I need to get the people I care about out of harm’s way before the first bomb drops.

  I didn’t bring my team; I brought Bishop. Bishop knows what he needs to know, and it’s that a drug that’s been made is being used for trafficking purposes. He doesn’t need to know it was Macy who designed it; he doesn’t need to know that she’s a sister to me, that this is personal. The fact is, should her drug get out we wouldn’t be able to contain it.

  When I stepped in to help Jonas find Macy, I called in several favors, which will fuck me in the end. But it was for Macy, so it was worth it. I’m here to follow up on leads; that’s it, as far as my bosses are concerned. Detroit is my home base, so it made sense to send me back here. To a place I vowed never to return to, because it was here I had a husband who didn’t want me. It was here that what could have been a great fucking life ended as soon as it started. For me, Detroit is the city that spit me back out, and even all these years later it still cuts me deep.

  Max can’t know all the details because really, in the end, he’s bait. That’s why I’m here, too. If my husband does in fact have a hand in this he’ll be going down with the rest of them. He’s also going to lead me straight to Gallo. So yeah, I’m sticking around. I’ve got shit to do so I can move on with my life and put Max and Detroit behind me for good.

  Getting these fucking cuffs off me is priority one. Not staring at him is priority two. Because well, damn… The years have been good to him. Too damn good, like insanely good. He’s got some grays, and doesn’t color it to cover it. I love his gray, and dammit I still just love everything about him, but love has zero to do with any of this. He’s filled out a bit, his hair is still shaggy, which makes him look rugged. His arms are built like tree trunks, but for me it’s his eyes. The most beautiful shade of brown was saved for his face alone. Brown hair, brown eyes, and the most amazing goatee a girl could ask for. I missed having a life with him. It scares me to think what a life with him could actually be like if fate hadn’t fucked me. Suddenly I’m pissed. Fuck fate, he didn’t come for me. He broke his promise. The only one I ever asked him to make to me.

  The second I pee then have a cup of coffee, Max is going to get a taste of what life is like with his wife.

  “Maxwell!” I yell from the comfy king size which I’ll never admit to him is heavenly. “I’m ready, god dammit!”

  Then internally I smile thinking of Max and ask myself, but are you?

  “What’s your name?” I ask, her handing over her underwear.

  “Thanks,” she says quietly. “Jules. What’s yours?”

  “Max,” I tell her, pulling her toward me. “Max Allen.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Max Allen.”

  “You say that like it’s a goodbye. It’s not, is it?”

  “I leave tomorrow,” she says, staring at the ground. The ground where she just rode me to the best orgasm of my life. Checking her watch she looks back up at me. “Today, actually.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Virginia.”

  “I want to see you again,” I tell her. “When will you be back?”

  “I’m not coming back,” she whispers. “Why couldn’t I have met you before?”

  “Before what?”

  “I signed my life over to the Army.”

  “The Army? Tell me you’re joking.”

  “’Fraid not,” she says. “I better be going, I’ve got a train to catch.”

  Suddenly afraid of losing her forever, I wrap myself around her. “I took you on the grass, I didn’t take my time, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “I took you on the grass.” She giggles. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

  Walking over to my bike I watch her wait for me to climb on. Once she does I want to take her and run. But I don’t. Instead I do as she suggests and drop her on the corner and drive off. I parked a block away where she couldn’t see me and watched her safely enter an apartment building that should be condemned. This couldn’t be goodbye, not yet. Walking back to my bike I sat there watching her front door until precisely at 6:59 a.m. she stepped back out.

  Sitting out here while she’s in there uncomfortable fucking hurts. All of my past failures come back to Jules. That first night I saw her walking down Michigan Avenue alone, nothing could have stopped me from getting her on my bike. Even from behind she was fucking beautiful, but when I saw her I had no idea she was only eighteen. Even then she was built like a woman and she carried herself like one. Prior to her I had very little interaction with females. They always asked so many questions, questions I never knew how to answer. Besides the questions they always came with drama; I fucking hated drama.

  I grew up with money. Where I lived in West Bloomfield, everyone I knew had it. The females I grew up with were spoiled bitches. Not Jules, though; she came from nothing, so she expected nothing. The second I met her I wanted to give her everything. The bitch of it was, she only wanted me. The first time I flew out to see her it took everything I had to fly back home. Fuck, she was my home. By some miracle she married me; when I flew her back here to meet my father, it did not go well.

  From that point on, every trip I planned had catastrophe attached to it. My father did whatever he could to stop me from getting to her. When neither one would explain the rift I finally quit asking. I defied him as best I could, but the distance was growing. Even when I did manage to see her, my father would call demanding that I come home and threatened me with my club. I needed that fucking money to give us a life. Had I known that the one time I didn’t show would sever us forever, I’d have told him to fuck himself and his money. But I didn’t. Jules was proud of my plans with it, supported it, but it just cost me her heart in the process.

  When I was barely a man I made my way to Detroit and instantly fell in love with it. A place anyone could go and fit in. There was something for everyone here. Fate is a fickle bitch, though; to find a place like Detroit to fit in and feel at home, it didn’t take much to fall for it, hard. But then I found the girl there, the one I was meant for, and she wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I had to stay back and watch her go, hoping one day she’d come back.

  She did.

  The Jules in my bed isn’t the same woman I married. She’s her own woman, with her own career and a fuck load of walls. I’ve never stopped loving my wife. Every day I dreaded getting the mail, wondering if the papers that said she wants out will be there. They never came. Now she’s here and I’m willing to do every bastard thing in the book to keep her here. That’s why I told Venessa and Macy to mind their own business that I was getting my wife back without their interference. Because, I am. Jules isn’t the kid I married, and I’m not the laid-back, causal guy she married, either. The years without her have hardened me. So when I hear her yell from the bedroom I smile to myself, deciding right then and there it was time to show her she isn’t in charge anymore; I am. From the day I put her sweet ass on the back of my bike it’s been her way, her rules. I let her walk away because I thought it was what she wanted. Fuck that; it’s not about what she wants anymore.

  Shaking my head of those thoughts, I walk to the room and open the door; seeing her spread out on our bed, a bed no other has ever shared with me, has my cock hurting. Sitting down next to her I see she has a plan. She’s a fucking agent with the DEA, of course she has a plan. Thing is, so do I.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I say sitting next to her fighting the urge to touch her “Ba
throom, coffee, and catching up.”

  “Uh huh,” she says rolling her eyes “Then what?”

  “Then we see what happens.”

  “Nothing is going to happen, Max.”

  “I said we’ll see,” I growl at her. “You let me go without a fight, and I want to know why. You fucking owe me. You put me through hell. You made a promise to be my wife, you lied to me, and I want the reasons. Then, like I said, we’ll see.”

  Straining in her cuffs she leans up and tears me to pieces. “You don’t have to uncuff me for that, Max. That information, I’ll gladly give you for free.”

  “Say it.”

  “You let me go first,” she says, wincing. “You hardly called or wrote, then when it counted… you didn’t show. I know why you didn’t show; it was because he dangled that fucking money over your head. I came in second, which I was almost okay with considering I’ve never placed anywhere with anyone in my life, ever. You made a promise to me; that weekend may have not meant much to you, but it meant everything to me. When you didn’t show for my graduation I’d had enough of waiting. Instead of continuing to wait I made a life without you; time flies, and here we are.”

  “I wanted to be there, god dammit,” I tell her. “You don’t understand, you never let me explain.”