Page 108 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“I’ll get someone,” he said, trying to rise from the floor. The irony was a cruel joke. I didn’t need anyone else. I needed him.

I grabbed his wrist to stop him from getting up. He froze at the contact. I slipped off the sofa and threw myself at him, knocking him back onto his ass. Before he could react, I’d crawled onto his lap, wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. His masculine, smoky scent mingled with a fresher, citrusy blend from a new body wash he hadn’t used in the bunker. It invaded my senses, making it easier to breathe.

Every muscle in his body locked tight, his rigidity refusing to accept me, yet I held on tighter.

He didn’t hold me back, but he didn’t push me away either. He must have sensed that the moment I was in his arms, I was calming down. Feeling him, holding him, knowing he was alive and real, was enough to bring me back to the present, to the pain, but also to the relief that he was there.

When I’d calmed enough to speak, I whispered against his skin, “Please, don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”

He swallowed hard but said nothing. I lifted my head and, with reluctance, released him from my iron grip, scooting off his lap to sit on the floor in front of him, my back against the sofa. He stared at me with that infuriatingly unreadable expression, the one that always made me want to bury myself under his skin, infect his veins and live in his head just so I would know what he was thinking. Its familiarity made me want to smile and cry.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, wiping away the tears on my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to knock you down like that. I just… I really missed you. I thought you were dead. And it’s been the hardest weeks of my life, coming to terms with never seeing you again. And now you’re here, but… you’re telling me you don’t remember me. Us.”

He continued to stare at me in that way that made heat rush over my skin.

“I remember your eyes.”

I blinked at him. As if I hadn’t learned my lesson, dangerous hope swelled in my chest. It was small, but it was something.

He opened his bag and pulled out a journal. He hesitated for a moment, then held it out towards me. I took it cautiously and opened it. There was a substantial amount of writing at the beginning, but I kept flicking through until the pages were filled with sketch after sketch of eyes. My eyes.

I glanced up at him. He licked his lips as our gazes met. And fuck, I wanted to kiss him so badly.

“I woke up a few days after the fight with no memory of what had happened or of my life over the past few months. Slowly, things have started to come back to me. But nothing from the last few weeks, except… your eyes.”

“Will all your memories come back?” I couldn’t hide the hope in my voice. He shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Possibly.”

I closed the journal and handed it back to him. Our fingers brushed, and electricity shot through me like a live wire. His pupils dilated; he ripped the book away and shoved it back into his bag. He felt it too. He might not remember us, but he still felt the connection. A newfound determination breathed me back to life as I realised this didn’t mean the end.

“How did you come here if you didn’t remember anything?”

He rubbed the back of his head, a telltale sign that he was about to hide something. “A soldier pulled me out of there and got me medical help. When I woke up, he told me what had happened and where I could find your family to ask for help killin’ McKenna.”

“Which soldier?” Who would go against Sean and save Maddox?

“I promised to keep his identity secret to protect him.”

“Was it Nolan?”

He looked at me, surprised. “Why would you think that?”

“He was the only one who seemed to look out for you. All the others treated you like shit. But he gave you some respect, as much as I guess he could. But—” I paused, remembering the file that showed Nolan wasn’t the man I thought he was.

“But?”

“I don’t think he was as decent as he seemed. I found out he was helping Sean sex-traffic women. He was stalking a girl called Lauren not long ago. Now she’s missing.”

Maddox sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. “How did you find that out?”

Merda. This was a complicated story I didn’t really want to get into. I just wanted to persuade him to stay. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time. If you’ll stay, that is.”

He swallowed and flexed his hands.

“You should stay,” I said, correcting myself. I pulled myself back onto the sofa and nervously played with a curl, twisting it around my finger. He watched me, and I swear I saw a flicker in his eyes. Something that looked a lot like longing. “I want you to stay. Selfishly for me, but also for you. You came here for my family’s help. I’ll make sure they help you, Maddox.”

His eyelashes lowered into that smouldering glare, and it instantly made my pulse race. I couldn’t be sure what had caused it, but I needed to find out, because there was the man who desired me more than his next breath. I just needed to remind him of it.