Until April (Until Her/Him #10)(52)

“Baby.” His warm body presses against my back, then his hands move down my arms to my wrists, stilling my movements. “I put Binx in the bathroom. He’ll be okay for a few minutes while we get cleaned up.” He shuts off the water and dries my hands with a paper towel, then moves us away from the sink and toward the stairs.

When we get to my bedroom, he walks me right to the bathroom, flips on the shower, then helps me get undressed before he takes off his clothes. He doesn’t spend much time in the shower with me. He washes up and gets out, then leaves the bathroom only to come back dressed in jeans and a T-shirt a few minutes later. “Come on.” He reaches in and turns off the water, then holds out a towel for me. I step into him, letting out a breath as his arms wrap around me and he holds me against his chest. “It’s going to be okay.”

As much as I want to believe him, I don’t. Some woman who I don’t even know came to my house and tried to kill me. And the more I replay the way the two of them were fighting over the gun, the more I realize she could have killed him instead. I don’t even want to imagine what I would do if something were to happen to him, especially when it would have been because of me.

“You could have died because of me.”

“No.” He wraps his hand around my jaw, forcing my head back so I have no choice but to meet his eye. “What happened is not on you.”

“But it is.” Unshed tears cause my vision to become blurry. “That woman showed up here because of me.”

“That woman showed up here, because she is mentally ill. That is not on you.” His arms around me get tighter—so tight that it feels almost impossible to take a breath. Then he presses his mouth against mine and holds it there.

The kiss feels like a reminder that he’s here with me—alive, safe, and mine. Yet it does nothing to ease the ache in my chest.





Chapter 16


Maxim

“TURN RIGHT HERE,” April says softly from my side, and I flip on my blinker, then pull onto a dirt road. As we crest the top of a small hill, a beautiful two-story log house with a wraparound porch on the second level and enough space for parking below comes into view. Even in the dark, I can see the care that has gone into the property from the flowers to the landscape lighting. As we get closer, the front door to the house opens, and Asher and November step outside and walk to the top of the steps while I park.

When I shut off the engine, November heads down the steps to the passenger side door, and as soon as it swings open, she reaches in for April and pulls her out of the car, hugging her. I get out and shut my door, then head around the back to the trunk, where I placed her bag and mine not long after the police left her house.

“I need you to look after your girl for a couple of hours while I go take care of some stuff.” I keep my voice low when Asher gets close, and hand him April’s bag.

“Maxim.” His hand lands on my shoulder, and squeezes. “Take the night to cool down, then deal with whatever you need to tomorrow.”

“I’m cool.” It’s not a lie. Rage like I’ve never felt in my life had burned hot and bright through my veins when I saw that gun pointed at my woman, but I tucked it away, needing to keep it together for her. And until I’m in front of Cohen, I don’t plan on letting it loose.

“You seem cool, but I know you’re not,” he says, sounding concerned. “What’s your plan?”

“I gotta go.” I slam the trunk closed, and April—who is still in her mom’s arms—looks at her bag, then me. The moment our gazes meet, she releases her mom and steps toward me.

“What’s going on?”

“I got some stuff to take care of,” I tell her, and she starts to shake her head. “I’ll be back.”

“Maxim.”

“Go inside with your mom and dad, baby. I’ll be back.” I head for the driver side door, fighting the urge to touch her, hold her, reassure her that everything will be okay. But I know if she touches me, it will be difficult to walk away right now.

“Take care of her,” I tell Asher after I get in behind the wheel, and he reaches in for Binx’s cat carrier.

“Maxim,” she yells trying to get past her dad.

“I got her,” he says, not allowing her to get close to the car as he steps back, slamming the door.

I turn on the ignition and back out of the driveway, seeing the tears filling her eyes as the lights land on her, the sight of them killing me. When I turn out of her parents’ driveway, I hit Kenton’s number.

“Hey,” he answers on the first ring, not surprisingly, since I sent him a text before April and I left her place, letting him know what happened and to be ready for my call.

“I’m heading your way now.”

“How is she?” he asks, and my chest aches.

“With her mom and dad,” I reply, because saying she’s okay would be a lie. I know she’s still shaken up, even if she’s trying to pretend like she’s not.

“Good, they’ll take care of her. Justin and I are heading to the office now, so meet us there.”

“See you soon.” I hang up, then dial Gene. My conversation with him is much shorter, and in just a few grunted words, I can tell he’s pissed. Most likely because I told him he didn’t need to stick close to me when I was with April, and now he’s seeing that was a mistake. Then again, who could have guessed that some crazy woman would show up with a gun and some false sense of righteousness?