Page 41 of Rox

Roxie

Ididn’t like the idea when Duncan suggested it. I felt as if I was being forced into something. When I asked Angel about it over lunch and why he was so adamant about not doing it, you know, poking the already murderous bear, he mentioned them still trying to find whoever was after me. It all clicked into place. If we do this, I can help bring whoever this person is forward. If there is someone who truly wants to harm me, why not try when I’m so willing to be in public? Right?

I know this is going to be yet another thing my dad isn’t going to like, and we will fight about it. Angel’s face made it clear how he felt about the whole event and the chaos around it, but I can’t sit back and do nothing. I grew up with these men. I know they wouldn’t allow something to happen to me, but it’s because of them that I’m as strong as I am. They’re the reason I fight. I stand up for myself because they helped me see my strength. I can’t sit back and do nothing. Who I am and how I was raised won’t allow me to.

So yeah, while I was mad at Duncan and tried to come up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t, I’m big enough to admit I was wrong, and it’s a great idea. I just won’t ever tell Duncan that to his face.

I’ve learned a lot growing up in this club, and one of the lessons learned was never allowing anyone to walk all over me—the club included. Much to my father’s regret for bringing me into this life and teaching me how to be the best and most bull-headed version of myself, I’m not going to continue to sit on the sidelines as they do all the work to resolve my issues.

I can handle so much more than anyone realizes. The person who is after me knows nothing about me. They don’t know what I’ve overcome and who I’ve become. My life sculpted me into a badass bitch, and I’m ready to fight for myself.

My thoughts are cut off when I hear the roar of an engine outside of Max’s house. I smile as I make my way to the front door, ready to greet him. I know this will be a battle, but I’m sure he will be on my side in this, and he’ll see how this plan is perfect. He told me he knows I can take care of myself. This will prove it to all of them.

“Hey, ba—what’s wrong?”

He slams the door and turns toward the couch. He grips the back of it before he starts to rock back and forth. It’s clear he’s pissed about something, possibly even hurting, but I have no clue about what.

Unless.

“Angel told you about the demo, didn’t he?”

Max scoffs as he stands up and faces me. “Were you even going to tell me?”

“It’s actually why I’m right here waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you about it. It’s a good plan.” I try to smile at him but want to reach out and touch him. Connect with him physicallybefore he can get even more riled up. The look on his face tells me to keep my hands to myself.

“It’s fucking awful plan! You want to have people coming and going and open yourself up to danger!” Max explodes at me. He starts pacing the floor, running his fingers through his hair. I know he is trying to calm himself a bit more, but it’s not working.

“I would do this even if no one were following me, Max. I’m a tattoo artist. This is my job. As a struggling artist, it’s how I prove myself and build a client base. I must put myself out there more than walk-ins settling for my work.”

“Angel doesn’t.” He holds his head high like the statement should end the conversation. Yeah, right.

“Angel doesn’t need to. He books up for the whole year in one day. He opens his books for one day a year, and it’s filled out within two hours. He doesn’t have to go to demos or work harder to make a name for himself. I do. He paid his dues in his way and worked hard years ago, so he doesn’t have to anymore. And besides, this is something that will help bring this person out. I can’t sit here—” When I think I am about to make him see reason and be on my side, he cuts me off.

“—Stop. Please. Just stop. I’m pissed as hell about this plan, but your father already fucking agreed to it.”

“He did?” I ask, genuinely shocked. I really did think this was something I was going to have to push for. What the hell? Who changed his mind? I know it wasn’t Angel, and based on Max’s reaction, it wasn’t him either.

“Yeah. Omen opened his fucking mouth, and now I have to worry about you during this. I just fucking…” he takes a deep breath. “It’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, Rox.”

“Okay,” I say as I step toward him, “what did you want to talk about?”

“As I was sitting there in church, listening to this plan, watching the reactions of the men I call my brothers, I realized something. I don’t know shit about you.”

I rear back, shocked he’d say something like this. We’ve spent hours talking as we lay in bed at night. Learning everything we can about each other. He knows me better than anyone does.

“Wh—what do you mean, Max? You know everything about me.”

“I know you, now. I don’t know anything about you then.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. My past never came up. It’s not something I like to talk about. I know it’s a large part of my make-up. It’s why I am the way I am, but it’s so fucking dark. It’s something that hurts too much when I have to remember. Why does he want to know? Why now?

“Why?” I ask, my voice quiet and timid compared to how this conversation started.

“Why what?” The incredulous tone in Max’s voice is a slap in the face. He sounds almost cruel.

“Why do you want to know?”

He scoffs as he throws his head to the right and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, Rox. Maybe because it’s a part of you? Maybe because I laid myself out for you. I stripped myself bare and told you everything. Things no one knows. If anyone should know my past, it should be your father, but he doesn’t know shit. You’re the only one who has seen every side of me. I gave you something I haven’t given to anyone. And I realize I can’t be mad. I didn’t ask about it before, but I am. You know everything about me. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the fucked up. I have who you are now.”

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