Page 48 of Max

“Streets are hot. We can’t take anything but what’s on your back.”

“My rifle…”

Max shook his head at how stupid the guy was. “Didn’t I just tell you the streets were hot, asshole? Cops are everywhere. They’d pull us in for questioning if we were packing.”

Max was packing. His gun, fully loaded with the safety off, lay nestled in his backpack.

“It’s my grandfather’s gun. I’m not leaving it, asshole.”

“Fuck this. You can find your own way out of the city.” Max acted like he was turning when the man reached out to grab his arm, just the opening he was hoping for.

He swung around and took hold of his arm, using the man’s forward momentum against him, and slung him forward. He stumbled and fell and jerked Max with him. His hat came dislodged in the process, and McArthur stared at him.

“You’re…you were with Shay.”

“Yeah, asshole, I am with Shay.” He put as much double meaning into those words as he could, but they seemed to be lost on McArthur.

Which said everything to Max about what—or ratherwhowas behind the stalking. And it wasn’t some fixation McArthur had with her. It was her ex, still wanting to control her, but aside from that, he’d make sure she never found her own happiness even if that meant her death.

McArthur jumped to his feet with grace of a professional athlete and launched an attack at Max, but he was expecting it. He ducked and slammed his fist into the thug’s stomach. It felt like he hit bricks. Fuck, but he was fit. Football player fit. Max worked out, but his physique was nothing to compared to this man’s. He had to end this fast, or he might be the one left on the floor bleeding.

A sentiment that hit home when McArthur landed a blow across his face. Pain exploded in his cheek, his nose, and his eye. That would hurt like a bitch later, but he compartmentalized it. He shoved it down and ran headfirst into McArthur, his shoulder connecting solidly with his midsection and driving him into wall. They fell, with Max landing on top. He took full advantage and started pummeling McArthur, several hard hits landing on his face.

McArthur didn’t go down without a fight. He rolled and landed hits of his own, but Max was a soldier, trained in hand-to-hand combat against opponents of varying shapes and sizes. It took him a matter of less than thirty seconds to regain control, coming to land back on top.

Not to dissuaded, McArthur literally stood up with Max hanging on like monkey and tossed him into the coffee table. The wood gave way beneath his weight, and his shoulder felt every second of it.

He lay there for two seconds, and then he was up and running, snagging his backpack as McArthur went for the closet. Not giving him a chance, Max reached in, pulled his gun, and shot the bastard in the leg.

He limped over to him as McArthur tried to crawl to the closet.

“I wouldn’t.”

McArthur glared up at him. Max grinned. McArthur wasn’t stupid.

Pulling his cell out of his back pocket, he called Kade.

Where was he?

Shay was pacing for an entirely new reason this time. Her father had been out of surgery for hours and was resting comfortably. It had been a complete success, and his cardiologist expected a full recovery with many, many years in his future. She was grateful and thanked God profusely several times over while in the same breath demanding Max be returned to her in one piece. Without more bullet wounds, preferably.

Desi had joined her in her pacing. Shay knew they were driving Cole, Jasper, and now Jarrod crazy. Theoretically, they knew Max was okay. He’d called Jasper several hours ago to say her stalker had been apprehended, but he needed to go to the police station to answer some questions. Did they not realize he’d been shot? And what if he’d gotten hurt? What if his amateur stitches had broken loose? He could be bleeding to death while they uselessly paced this square box of a room.

Were they trying to charge him? She was determined if he wasn’t here in one hour, she was going to demand they send the best criminal attorney in New York City to represent him. He was not going to get into trouble for protecting her.

“He’s fine.” Desi said it out loud, but Shay noticed her best friend had taken to chanting those two little words over and over.

“He is,” she assured her just like she had every other time she’d uttered the words. Shay didn’t know who she was actually trying to reassure, Desi or herself. Maybe both. Probably both.

Cole sighed and finally stood, frustrated with them both. “You’re going to make yourselves dizzy. You sure as fuck are us.”

Jarrod and Jasper stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

And maybe he had.

“Is that so?” Desi asked, her tone deceptively quiet.

“Yes, that’s so. Sit down.”

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