He hated himself at that moment for being so fucking selfish. He should have never introduced her to Rasmus under the current conditions. She wasn't ready to see them fuck each other. Hell, she readily believed she was the one getting lucky that night and he'd made her suffer for her casual assumptions and lack of awareness outside of herself and her own sexual needs.
Max glanced at Rasmus who also sat on the wraparound sofa except he was at the far end, a black terry-cloth robe tied loosely around his lean body while he swigged vodka tonic from a crystal tumbler. "What difference does it make to you? I keep you away from your father-convinced him that you're dead-so he doesn't have to deal with having a homo for a son and we both get our rocks off. Big fucking deal."
Max stood and strode to the counter before he poured another generous helping of scotch and swigged from his tumbler.
"She's different though. Usually you play with them and make them want it until they can't stand it anymore but you wanted her to get off. Why?"
"Why the hell not? If she's stuck with me . . . and you . . . then we might as well make the most of the situation."
Rasmus scoffed before he laughed out loud. "You didn't tell her you were bisexual before you started this whole charade with her?"
"What difference would it make? Who I fuck is no one's business but my own and if I have a long time lover then she's hardly one to judge." Max slammed his glass down on the counter. "You did say you saw her and Edward together, didn't you?"
"Yeah, they were together. I sent you the photos. They're in your email account. She never noticed me because she didn't know about me. Their body language was incredibly intimate but it went beyond . . . casual fucking. I believe he fell in love with her."
Max snapped his head towards his lover, his aquamarine eyes remote and cold. "What about Magnolia? Do you think she feels the same?"
Rasmus rolled ice blue eyes. "To be honest, she looked torn-is that the right American word? It appeared to me like it was a final goodbye. Her body language was all very off and quite sad. Of course, if you don't trust my judgment then don't fuckin' send me to do your dirty work."
Max sighed. "Go to the safe and take out ten grand. Get on a flight and get the fuck out of here. Go to Paris, Hamburg, Madrid-at this point, I don't give a shit. Just get the fuck outta here."
"I don't think that's a good idea. You can't do this alone, Max, you know that-"
"I'm not alone, Mags is here. I can't risk your safety with your father this close by. They catch wind you're here and they will make sure you're buried in the fucking ground. I'll send some more money to the account in a couple of weeks. That means no hard-core partying and no drugs. Find a decent apartment, not some bachelor pad in the swankiest part of town. Call me when you get there." Max swallowed the rest of his scotch and set the tumbler down.
"Where are you going?"
He didn't bother to turn toward his lover again. "To make sure she's still alive and can stand the sight of seeing my face.
Max walked into his bedroom suite to find Mags lying in bed. She'd recently showered and wore a black terry-cloth robe. Her earbuds were placed firmly in her ears while she clutched a glass of amber liquid in one hand while her iPod touch set on the counter.
She almost looked comatose but he knew she was alive and breathing by the way her chest rose and fell. Perhaps he'd finally gone too far and exposed her to too much.
She was strong-one of the toughest women he'd ever encountered-but everyone had a breaking point and perhaps he'd crossed that line with her.
You don't owe her anything, an inner voice chastised him, what the fuck has she done for you?
That might have been true but that didn't make him feel any less guilty than he already did.
He ran his hands through his head and tried to get his shit together. Maybe she hadn't found out about the kind of lifestyle he lived the right way but she would've discovered it, sooner or later.
Max cursed his cock that refused to be satisfied; the deviant lifestyle he chose to live and falling for a woman who was cracked beyond putting back together. She wasn't broken but if anyone could do it, he'd be the one. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the feelings they felt for one another but they were there. Out in the open for anyone to see.
Emotions were dangerous but love might just be their undoing. Not only toxic, it would be the very catalyst that could get them both killed. Dimitri thought of nothing but the bottom line and certainly didn't give a damn about them; once they were useless to him, there would be no reason to keep them alive. If they cared about each other at all, they were bound to get sloppy and careless; creating the perfect situation where they could easily be double-crossed.
A soft, small hand grabbed his closest to Mags as she sat up in bed and took the earbuds out of her ears. "What are you doing here?"
He turned toward her as she stared at him with those soul-searching, gorgeous pale green eyes and he forced himself to look away. "This is my room, remember?"
"Our bedroom," she corrected quietly. "Listen, I know it isn't any of my business and you don't have to explain anything but . . . I'm still so fucking confused about what happened today. Why did you do that to me? Why couldn't you just tell me before we had this plan to take down my uncle? Are you punishing me for having feelings for another man?"
"I don't give a damn about what you feel for Edward, Mags."
It was a lie and they both knew it but she continued to gaze at him as if he'd betrayed her.
"I find that hard to believe. If you truly don't give a shit then what was today all about? Satisfying your lover while I was left here to do what-watch and learn? I swear to fucking God, if this is supposed to be easier than what Brad and Nel put me through then sign me the fuck back up to their twisted head fucks. At least I knew what to expect."
He shook his head adamantly. "We both know that's not gonna happen so why don't you just quit while you're ahead?"
Mags chuckled out loud but there was absolutely no mirth in it. "You've got some nerve. I suppose I owe you because you saved my life or some shit but you have got to admit that this situation is a little more than merely strange. If you love that guy so much then why don't you just be with him? We'll just cancel our plans to kill my uncle and I'll get the fuck gone pronto. No way in hell am I gonna be a third wheel-"
"You were lucky to be just that with Edward. I hardly see what the difference is," Max replied coldly.
"The difference is I let him go." She turned away from him, a fan of her sable hair hiding her face. "You don't know what's it like to really lose someone until you have that strength to not be selfish and allow them to live their life with the person they truly love. I did that-for Edward-because I want him to be content. I'm not into ‘breaking up happy homes' shit, Max. If Rasmus is whom you truly want to be with then go to him. Don't use me as some kind of . . . beard to hide your homosexuality."
He sighed out loud before he grabbed her jaw with one hand and made her face him. "I'm not gay, Mags. I . . . I don't know what I am really. What happened between Rasmus and me was a long time coming. I take care of him emotionally and financially-we enjoy having sex with one another. I do have feelings for him but I also care about you. More than I'd ever want to admit but somehow, you're buried under my skin."
"So you're not going to let me go? Even if this situation isn't what I want?"
"I sent him away so we could be together and find a semblance of balance in our relationship. If you want him to participate in the future, I truly don't see that being a problem-"
"I'm not talking about the situation between your lover, me and you. I'm referring to the fact that I don't want to have anything to do with Angelo's death. He's family and yeah, maybe he doesn't give a shit about me but that's hardly the issue."
"That's exactly the issue," Max bit out.
"No, it's not," Mags mumbled before she calmed herself down and continued, "You don't understand. You'll never be able to comprehend what it's like to see your parents murdered in front of you. Yes, I was able to make a life with the White Knights at their clubhouse in Vegas but I never forgot what they did to me. How they took the only two people in the world who loved and cared for me unconditionally. I never will. I don't expect you to understand but it makes wanting to kill another member of my dwindling family very fucking hard."
"It's obvious this isn't the best time to talk about this. We can discuss it at another time, once Rasmus is gone and out of the country. He's not safe here."