Max follows. “Alright, just . . . just hold up a damn minute, will ya? I need to get Stahl on the phone.”
“Call him from the car.”
“Camille . . .” He peters off, and I stare at his tight jaw and even tighter expression. “You knowhe’snot there.”
“I know that,” I say through my teeth as hot tears track down my cheeks. “I know.”
“I just, I don’t want you rushing into this because you think there might be a chance that you’ll see him again. They have no leads. Stahl believes that bringing you in might spark your memory, but for the record, I don’t like the idea. I think you’re barely dealing with what happened to you as it is.”
“You’ll come with me, right?”
“Of course. I’m not leaving you in Stahl’s hands.”
“Then I want to go now. I have to see it, Max.”
“Alright.” He raises his hands in a placating gesture, and seems to search my gaze. I see the second he realizes how much I need this, because resignation is written all over his face. “Why don’t you get your things together while I call? I’ll be there in just a minute.”
“Okay.” I turn and head back to the house, glaring at a confused-looking Christian on the way.
“What did he say to you?” Christian asks.
“None of your fucking business.”
Christian shakes his head. “You know you really are a bitch. If you were my kid, I’d let you get kidnapped again. Hell, I might even organize the whole fucking thing just to teach you a lesson.”
I stop in my tracks and turn around, stalking back to the asshole. I reach up on my tiptoes and slap him hard across the face. He grabs my hand, his grip like an iron vise. The violence in his hands, the rage and fury his hard expression promises stokes a fire in me that Ares started but has left untended for too long.
I’m pushed out of the way by a furious Maximus.
“Get the fuck off her.” He shoves Christian, who stumbles back and then swings at Max’s face. The two men go down in the snow. Fists fly, blood spatters the white powder on the ground, and I can only stare at the violence and bloodshed. My insides tighten. I’m back in my cell. Glass walls rise up all around me. Red blots mar the gray concrete beneath.
“Come on,” Maximus says, pulling me from my reverie. I sway beside him, staring down at Christian’s inert body.
“Is he dead?”
“No, Camille.”
I stare at the red splotches on the snow.
Maximus shakes my shoulders, diverting my gaze from Christian’s bloody face to the bright blue eyes I’ve come to trust so quickly. “You really think I’d kill him?”
I shake my head, but I’m no longer sure. My definition of monster is a little skewed these days.
“I’m a police officer. Not a killer.” Max takes hold of my elbow and leads me toward his car. “Though I should be arresting his sorry ass right now.”
He opens my door and helps me inside. Then he stalks to the driver’s side and slips into the seat. Max turns the key, revs the engine, and peels out of the driveway at breakneck speed. Past the vultures with their cameras and the reporters looking for the inside scoop.
This is the first time I’ve left my father’s house in more than a week, and I feel strangely vulnerable and bold all at once. I glance at Maximus. He’s sporting a fat lip. A trickle of blood escapes the corner of his mouth.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll live.”
I reach out and collect the drop of blood on my fingers. Max winces, and frowns as he darts his eyes at me and then back at the road. “Why did you hit him?”
“He was manhandling you.”
“I like to be manhandled.” The words are mine, and I mean them, but my voice is thin and cracks before I can finish.