come back to me. The love I have for him could fill a thousand oceans, but no matter the depth, it will never change the fact that love alone is not enough.
My thoughts briefly turn to Oakley, we had such a great time at the coffee shop, and she’s perfect, but she’s not Maddox. I need him like I need the air to breathe. But there’s no denying there’s something about her, something Maddox doesn’t have. Something that’s calling to me. I shake my head and the thoughts from my mind, tonight is about Maddox.
And the devastating truth is that no matter how hard or fierce I love him; I can’t fill all those cracks inside. I can’t bury the bone deep pain he carries, and I can’t pull the truths from him if he refuses to share them with me.
Shelly picks up on the tangible tension surrounding the table and pauses her rambling, which I completely blocked out while my mind was caught elsewhere.
“Um… I kinda feel like a voyeur right now,” she admits, and fans herself with her order pad. “I’m just going to get your usual orders put in…” she trails off and hightails it toward the kitchen.
“Looks like we scared her off.” I smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
“Jax, I need to talk to you.” My gut tightens. I’ve never seen Maddox so serious, and I’m terrified of what he’s going to say.
“Why don’t we head upstairs? Have this conversation somewhere a little more private.”
Maddox shakes his head. “We both know the second I get you alone, I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
I groan as blood rushes to my dick—that is one hundred percent on board with that plan. At least that hasn’t changed—our attraction to each other is second to none. No amount of time or hurt can change the carnal response our bodies have toward one another.
“As much as I wish that was all we needed to fix us… it’s not.” He swallows. “Before we go there again, you deserve to know the truth about me. The whole truth.”
The room spins on its axis. Years of trying to fight my way inside the walls this man has built up are finally coming to a head. I can’t believe this is happening. He’s about to let me inside and the triumph I imagined I’d feel if this moment ever came to fruition is nowhere to be found. Fear takes its place. I’m so goddamn terrified of the truths he’s going to reveal.
“Okay.” The sounds of the room are drowned out as the pounding of my heart takes their place.
Maddox looks down at his hands resting on the table. My eyes are drawn there as well, noting the way they tremble. He takes a deep breath, and another before he lifts his head and meets my gaze head on.
I take one last moment to tell my defenses, preparing for the potential impact of his words. With bated breath, I wait.
“I was twelve the first time my step-dad raped me.”
The admission, whispered into the air between us, may as well have been screamed out from the top of his lungs.
A pained wail escapes my chest as it caves in upon itself. No amount of time could have prepared me against the destruction of his words.
His voice is almost child-like, softer and quieter than I’ve ever heard it. “It went on for two years before the school realized something was seriously wrong and they called it in.”
“Two years?” I roar. My heart races wildly in my chest, beating so hard I fear it’s about to break through my ribcage. “Where—where the fuck…?” I grasp at my chest; each heaving breath only serves to increase the pressure on my heart. “Fuck, Madd, where was your mom? Why didn’t she stop him?” I choke on a sob.
Maddox never told me much about his mother or his childhood. All I knew was that she was killed in a car accident not long after he graduated high school. How could she let this happen?
He raises his voice. “She didn’t know.” He shakes his head and looks away in shame. Lowering his voice, he continues, but it’s clear from his take-no-shit tone that he won’t stand for any negativity toward her. “She was so fucking happy, you know? She always struggled to provide for us, but that changed when she met—” He pauses as though the mere thought of mentioning his mom’s husband’s name will destroy him. “I couldn’t… I