Flawed Heart Page 2
“How much longer?” Demi whines, lifting her head and staring up at me, lips puffy.
I take my cock in my hand, feeling it going rapidly flaccid. “We’ll finish this later.”
I tuck it back into my jeans and she sits back as if I’ve slapped her. Her green eyes are wide and her lips are parted. “Are you seeing someone else?” she snaps.
Here we fucking go.
“No, I’m just stressed,” I mutter, standing. “I’m trying to pass while making sure I’m getting in practice time. This year is fucking double the pressure.”
“You’ve barely called me, and you always come when I suck you off. There’s another girl, isn’t there?”
Always come? God, she forgets half of it because she’s so drunk more often than not when we’re getting down and dirty. If she were sober, she’d realize I barely ever come when she sucks me off, because she’s a fucking sloppy lover. Not that I’m super, I prefer to fuck her when I’m drunk too, so I guess we’re even on that playing field.
But this right here is the reason why. She talks way too much.
“Demi,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, “I’m not fucking seeing anyone else.”
“Then why didn’t you come?”
“Because I’m stressed,” I mutter, running my hands through my hair.
“You’re lying.”
She starts crying. I do not have the patience for this today. I step over, wrapping my arms around her while grinding my teeth. “Baby, I’m not lying. I’m seriously stressed.”
She sniffles and looks up at me. “Are you sure? Because if there’s another woman . . .”
And end the tears, enter raging bitch. This girl has more than one personality, I’m sure of it.
“Demi,” I warn.
“I have power,” she says, studying my face. “You don’t want to dump me, Max. I’m the best thing you’ve got.”
Fuck me. Last time I checked, it was meant to be me threatening her for the title of power. This shit is getting more warped by the second.
“I could say the same.”
She jerks back and glares up at me. “Are you threatening me, Max?”
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms. “How did we go from me not coming, to me threatening you?”
She steps away and crosses her arms, too. “I’m starting to think we need a break.”
I sigh.
We had a break last week. It lasted two days. She saw another girl at a party dancing with me, and suddenly she couldn’t live without me. This girl has way too many hormonal fluctuations for me to be able to follow. One minute she’s happy, the next she’s losing her shit.
“Do you even care?” she yells.
Right, I’m supposed to react to her little threat like any normal boyfriend would. “Of course I fucking care, but I’m not going to play mind games with you, Dem. You either wanna be with me, or you don’t. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance to take your place.”
“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she whispers, then turns and storms out.
I’m starting to think getting to know blue eyes would be the easiest part of my life right now.
CHAPTER TWO
NOW – ANABELLE
“Immy,” I soothe, holding my daughter to my chest, rocking her backwards and forwards. She’s got high fevers and vomiting, and because of that we’ve been awake for the past two nights.
It’s hard doing this on my own sometimes. Especially times like these. I know Max would want to know about her, if I gave him the chance, but I never did. I haven’t seen him since the night I left five years ago. The love of my life. My hero. My husband. I just disappeared one night, because I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t take the demons he was hiding in his head. Demons I didn’t even know about—because he just shut down and wouldn’t tell me.
He fell out of love with me, because of those demons.
And my heart broke.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I look up to see Pippa, my housemate, standing at the door. Pippa was kind enough to take Immy and I in six months ago when I came back to town, to be with my mom when she fell ill with cancer. Mom’s is terminal, and I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her. The only way to do that was to move home, but she doesn’t have the space in her tiny house so I had to get a new job and find a place.
Pippa is a sweet girl, and is dating a member of a motorcycle club. She’s kind hearted, and a good friend. I’ve not had a great deal to do with the club, but they seem like great guys. I just try to stay out of it, especially after I found out Max, my husband, helped her in a recent situation she had with some bad people and the club.
Max still lives here, in the same town. He runs a club that has a massive underground fighting ring, called House Of Obsidian. The club has been in his family a while, but the fighting ring was something Max started.
I never thought he’d go down that path. Max was always going to be a football star, but when we fell in love and got married, things changed. I never wondered if he regretted his decision not to follow his dreams, because he seemed so happy with me.
Until everything changed.
“I’m okay.” I smile, stroking my daughter’s hair.
“Do you want me to fill her cup? Or get a towel? Something warm for her tummy?”
I love Pippa.
“We’re okay, Pippa.”
She comes into the room, and gently strokes Immy’s hair. Pippa is a beautiful soul, and a really pretty girl. With her pretty big eyes and light blond hair, she would seem like your typical beauty, but she’s not. She’s tiny, and fragile, and quiet most of the time. I don’t think she truly knows how beautiful she is.
“What did the doctor say today?”
“He said to keep her hydrated; there’s not much else we can do.”
Her eyes get soft. “It’s time likes these having help would be good.”
“You’re telling me.”
We both fall silent. She knows about Max, she knows what he means to me, and she’s not once pushed for me to go and see him, even though he asked her about me the night he saved her life. She didn’t tell him a lot, but he knows I’m here and he hasn’t once tried to find me. I guess that answers everything for me—he doesn’t want to see me.
Or maybe he’s as terrified as I am of reliving a past we’ve both obviously tried to bury.
“Do you want me to sit with her a few hours, while you get some rest?” Pippa offers.
“No.” I offer a weak curl of my lips. “But thanks. Maybe tomorrow?”
She nods. “Night. Yell out if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Pippa. Goodnight.”
When she goes, I lay down with Imogen and tuck her against me, wrapping my arms around her. My eyes are heavy and sore, and the moment I feel her breathing even out, I let them close on a sigh.
Yes, it’s hard sometimes, but she makes all of it worth the effort.
“How’s Immy?” Mom croaks, smiling at my daughter who is watching television at her house the next day.
I let my eyes scan over my daughter, who has some color in her cheeks today. Thank God. “After she fell asleep last night, she seemed to pick up. I’m so thankful; she was so unwell.”