"Google?"It comes out sounding like a question in my confusion. "What's wrong?"
He shakes his head, frowning into space. "Nothing. Get your shit and let's go."
I reach for him, touching his tense cheeks and massaging the lines fixed between his brows. "No, Max. What's this change in mood all about?"
"It's nothing. Forget about it."
"I think it'ssomething."
Sighing, his eyes shut for a split second. "I got knocked around a bit when I was a kid." His gaze finds me again. "Ice baths just remind me of a time I'd rather forget."
I wonder who knocked him around. Does he mean fights at school? No, knocked around implies someone bigger and stronger had hurt him. God, he means his mother. A heavy weight settles in my belly, making me want to clutch at it. Claw it out. I hate her. Flashes of him and his brothers as children, beaten and soaking in ice baths, invade my mind, and I can't breathe until they disappear. I shake them away. All of a sudden, I feel as though I'm deceiving him by not telling him I know.
"Who knocked you around?" I find myself asking only to wish I didn't. As I study his tight forehead and pursed lips, my heart aches something awful. "You don't have to tell?—"
"My," he chokes on the word. "Mother. Victoria. She liked to take out her frustrations with Butch on us whenever he fucked around. As time went by, I think she started to enjoy hurting us. I think it became a kind of addiction. She has no power and is surrounded by powerful men. It's not an excuse, just a reason."
"Max."
"It's okay." He brushes his fingers through my hair, staring at the strands. "She doesn't hurt us anymore.Can't."
"I saw you at my party," I admit, hesitating before adding, "With her."
His eyes are still glued on my hair tangled in his fingers. "I know."
"What did she want?"
His gaze meets mine. "Xander stole her phone, trying to get her attention, but attention from that woman isn't a good thing, so I'd just said it was me."
"Why didn't you tell your dad what was going on?"
"Tell him what?" He laughs with derision. "That our mother was beating us up? Do you have any idea what admitting something like that to Luca Butcher would be like?"
I glance at the floor. "But he loves you."
He lifts my chin. "He does, but he doesn't like weakness."
I feel pin-prickles behind my eyes, beckoning tears to fall. "You were just children."
Looking away from me, his eyes distant, he says, "Butch asked what happened once. So I told him I'd been in a fight at school. He wanted to know what the other kid looked like. I told himunconscious." Max smiles, but it lacks warmth. "He was proud. That's the look I'd wanted from him."
Rising onto my tippy toes, I kiss him softly as a single tear forces its way from the corner of my eye. He has offered me something personal and I never want to take his words for granted as they are rare and hard-earned. "Thank you for sharing that with me."
He points at my half-packed bag, signalling that the conversation is over. I stare at his tempest grey eyes, wanting to tell him all the things in my heart, but in the end, I just lean up and kiss his lips again. He frowns at me, but he's notmad. I smile at him, hoping he can see in my eyes all the things I want to say.
"Finish packing," he orders.
I laugh a little. "Yes, Max."
With my bags ready to go, we wander to his car. I climb inside and he leans across me to buckle me in. Then we head for Connolly. He concentrates on the traffic. I listen to the music and relax. His big warm hand rests on my thigh and my heart is so full of him, I struggle to feel anything else.
Connolly is about half an hour from Brussman, but they're both a part of the District. Max's town was established first and is hard to buy into. The premier families of Western Australia—the Storms, the Butchers, and most of the other old school District families, all live there. Slater is an original District family name, but we never had enough money to buy into Connolly. We do now, though. But we like Brussman.
I turn the music down and twist in my seat to face Max. "How did you get my dad to agree to this?"
He smiles, an arrogant and gorgeous curve to his lips. "Your dad likes me."
"Whatever." I blink at him. "He didn't seem to like you last time."
