Mad Love Read online

  “I’ll show you to your room.”

  “Thank you.”

  I follow Maddox across the spacious living area, my heels clicking on the stone floor. I’m beat and in need of solitude. There’s also a lot of thinking to do, including how I’ll pay respects to my grandfather while having no contact with my family.

  Inside what is my new bedroom, Maddox sets my suitcases on the floor.

  “With everything that was in your place, you left with only two suitcases of belongings?”

  “It’s all I’ll need until our arrangement ends.” I’m not planning on leaving his penthouse until my kidnapper is found.

  The doorbell rings. He leaves and then returns with a medium-sized package in his hands.

  “This has your name on it.”

  “From Collins,” I say, having this insane urge for making small talk. I’m certain this isn’t how Maddox pictured his wedding day. “She’s always thinking of my comfort.”

  “She’s a good friend.”

  “My friends have big hearts.”

  I take the box from him, being careful our fingers don’t graze. I’m not careful enough, and I chalk my carelessness to my grief, the ache in my chest unbearable.

  Our fingers brush, my satin glove over his warm flesh, and a zing of awareness zips up and down my body as this electric current that heats me from head to toe.

  I clear my throat, avoiding looking him in the eye. “Again, thank you. I’m tired and will turn in for the night.”

  There’s no need to make our arrangement about attraction. It’s one-sided, anyway. What he says next confirms my suspicion that it was right of me to put in the clause.

  “I’m going out. Don’t wait up. If you call in for food delivery or a delivery of any kind, notify the front desk. One of my guys will deliver it personally.”

  “Visitors?” I ask.

  “Again, notify the front desk and your visitor will be escorted up here. Hand me your phone.”

  I must have a confused expression.

  “I’ll add the front desk’s number.”

  “Oh, of course.” I pull my cell from my bag, unlock the screen, and hand it over, holding it from the top end so that he’s forced to grab the phone by the bottom end.

  Believing he’s good to go, I change out the bedding with the satin ones that came in the box, in record time. I’m dead on my feet, and I don’t want to keep him from his date.

  There’s silence behind me. Is Maddox in the same camp as everyone else, that I’m strange? Or is he holding on to his own belief that I’m a spoiled brat? I turn around, ready to unpack my clothes before they become a wrinkled mess.

  On Maddox’s face is a look of disgust. He tosses my phone on the bed.

  “When you see Granger later tonight, tell him dick pics lack class and he should up his game with the sexting if he wants to get you off.”

  “What?” I grab my phone and unlock the screen.

  Sure enough, there’s a picture of a guy’s penis. But it’s not the image that has my heart beating so hard I’m afraid it’ll burst from my chest. It’s the text message.

  “Put your mouth on mine and I will breathe life into you. Take my hand and I will pull you out of the darkness and into the light. Renounce your name, take mine, and all will be forgiven.”

  The urge to drop the phone like it’s hot embers burns through me, but I can’t panic. He wants me to panic.

  I calmly set the phone on the bed. “The sender sent it to the wrong number. And you’re right. The message lacks class.”

  Does my kidnapper know I renounced my name and took Maddox’s? How long can I keep Maddox in the dark before he realizes how much danger I’m in? But if I stay within the secure walls of Maddox’s penthouse on the fortieth floor, my kidnapper can’t get to me, right?

  My cousins and my team are working to find him, and when they do, all will be well and I can return to my old life. I can also revisit whether my dad committed murder.

  Oh, God, my dad killed a woman and stole her baby. He stole me from my mother. From my father. From my rightful family. The Lexingtons are a respectable family, but the McCabes? They fall in two camps—criminals or law enforcement. What a mess!

  “Blaise?”

  Maddox’s voice comes to me from a distance. I blink. He reaches for me. I recoil. He drops his hand to his side.

  “I’m okay. Go. Have a nice time.”

  He’s going out to see his lover, Evie Lawson. I’m certain of it. I saw him taking her away from the party with a huge smile on his face. She looked smitten and just as happy. It must be nice to be so in love. Good God, what have I done?

  “Maddox?” I hurry after him. He’s to the door.

  He faces me. “Hmm?”

  “Just to be clear, I’m fine with you sleeping with other women. What we have is a business arrangement and not a true marriage, so no need worrying that you’ll hurt my feelings or that I’ll think you’re cheating on me.”

  He locks his jaw, and having grown up with men all my life, I would say my comment injured his pride.

  “Does that mean you’ll be sleeping around too?”

  Too. Also. I shake my head. “I don’t like to be touched.”

  “Are you telling me you and Granger aren’t an item? Or does he do other things aside from touching that turns you on?”

  “My team and I spread the rumors. I—” I sit on the couch. “Men can get nasty when I turn them down.”

  “Nasty how?” He steps toward me, a nerve ticking along his jaw.

  “They send me notes. Granger . . . um, Granger destroys them. He became so tired of it, he put forth the idea of he and I as lovers.”

  “How long have you known him?” He sits next to me, close but not near enough that we accidentally touch.

  “Since I was fifteen.”

  “How did a princess come across an ogre?”

  “He’s not ugly. Granger is the most handsomest man.”

  “Even with the scar on his face?”

  “More so because of it.”

  “Are you certain rumor isn’t truth?”

  There’s no teasing in his voice. However, there is a sharp edge, as though the idea of me with Granger bothers him. Interesting.

  “It isn’t. He and I are friends.”

  “And how did that come to be?”

  “I pissed off Roman, and long story short, he dropped me off in the bad part of Oakland with nothing but a knife to my name. Granger and I had a run-in of sorts in the middle of the night, and the rest is history.”

  “The gash on his face, you did that?”

  “I’m pleading the fifth.”

  “He said you saved his life and he spared yours.”

  There’s no harm in telling him. Maddox isn’t discreet with his affairs, but he keeps mum when it comes to those closest to him, like his parents and his sister. I hope he puts me in the same category.

  “We got caught in the middle of a drive-by shooting. I knocked him out of the way and sliced him in the face with my knife. He had every right to retaliate and kill me on the spot. Instead, he took me to the hospital.”

  “Holy fuck. Are you okay?”

  I smile. “It was years ago, Maddox, so yes, I’m fine.”

  “Where’d you get shot?”

  “The bullet grazed my shoulder and went under his armpit.”

  Not quite the whole truth, but close. I bled like a stuck pig and was in surgery for hours, according to Roman, who felt guilty as sin. I lost consciousness after getting shot and don’t remember a thing other than waking up to a pacing Granger.

  “You got lucky.”

  “We both were, but boy, he was angry. He said I ruined his good looks.”

  Maddox laughs, and the deep sound awakens the sleeping butterflies in my belly.

  “You two are truly friends.”

  “Yes.”

  “And your other bodyguards? Did you save their lives too?”

  “Nothing as dramatic as how Granger a
nd I met. Marco is my best friend’s older brother. Shaw is his friend. And Owen is Shaw’s fraternal twin. They’re good guys, and they are all my friends. They’ve been with me since”—I blow out a breath—“since I felt in a right enough place to surround myself with men again.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you, Blaise. And I’m sorry for what I said last night. I was out of line. I don’t know you and have no right judging you just because you weren’t willing to sell me Betty.”

  I glance sidelong at him, biting down on my smile. “Ah, so you do think she’s a girl car. Where is she, by the way?”

  “In my garage.”

  “From what I’ve read, you have many of those.”

  “I have her housed in Montana, near your estate.”

  “Ex-estate,” I remind him, somehow not sad that I lost my second place of solitude.

  “Whenever you want to see her, I’ll take you.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you. Now go. Your date is probably wondering where you’re at.”

  “How do you figure I’m going on a date?”

  Has he seen him? Just looking at him melts my panties.

  “What else would a guy like you do on a Saturday night?”

  He rises off the couch. “And you?”

  “I’m not for going out. My place is behind the safety of four walls. Good night.”

  8

  Blaise

  I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep. Finding a spare sheet in the box Collins sent, I wrap it around me and pad to the living room.

  My satin tank top and sleep shorts, along with the satin sheet, whispers over my skin, and exhaling a breath of contentment, I sit on the overstuffed chair and stare at the breathtaking view of the city skyline.

  What about San Francisco appeals to Maddox?

  I’m sure there’s a lot to like, and with time, I’ll come to love the city as much as Maddox does. For now, I miss stargazing from my bedroom through the skylight in the ceiling.

  Dark of night doesn’t scare me or cramp up my stomach like seeing the color black. The stars dotting the sky bring me peace, much like water does. Maybe it’s because I was rescued and taken out of that coffin in the middle of the night. The first thing I saw when my vision adjusted were the twinkling stars.

  Seeing the stars, taking my first shower, and washing rotting flesh from my body . . . Inhaling a deep breath, I return my attention to the city that will be my home for three months. Come morning, the streets will be bustling with traffic and people. I can observe them from my perch up high and wonder where they are headed, who they’ll be seeing, and what plans they have for their day.

  There’s no need for me to go outside of the penthouse, not when I have the power of technology at my fingertips. I’ll use my laptop and cell phone to keep in contact with Granger, Collins, and my team. I’ll binge-watch movies and television shows on Maddox’s big screen TV. I’ll read books on my reading apps on my phone and tablet. And if I need anything else, I can order and have it delivered. On the drive here, there were no shortages of restaurants and shops within blocks of the building.

  Any items I want, I’ll pay using whatever money I have left. This girl can stretch a dollar if push comes to shove, a lesson in thriftiness I learned from Granger. Another takeaway of his from growing up in the foster care system.

  Missing Granger and my men, I turn away from the view and reach for my phone. I dial Collins’ number, and though it’s one in the morning, she answers right away, understanding me well. And I love her so much for being a great friend.

  “Good morning, Blaise.”

  “Ha-ha.” It’s the running joke between us. I’m an insomniac and was one before my kidnapping and subsequent nightmares amplified it more.

  I wake up so often in the night, I’m tired by daylight and sleep best when natural light shines in through my windows. The worst time is when the days get shorter and darker sooner. I spend those days in more tropical places. Except the private resort on an island in the tropics isn’t available to me anymore.

  Again, I’m not saddened by the changes in my life that Grandfather’s will is forcing on me. However, I have promises to keep, and I will keep them.

  “Are you up for party planning, or do you have a hot guy in your bed?”

  I promised my friend Syn and her boyfriend, Taron, I would throw Dumas University’s football team a big end-of-the-season party at my Montana estate. There’ll be an open bar, a five-course meal, and I’ll invite young socialites from every walk of life.

  “I wish. Let’s party plan.”

  I get straight to the point. “What costs can we cut?”

  “In order of least importance? Booze, food, girls, flight.”

  That won’t work. To college guys, food, alcohol, and girls are considered equally important.

  “We can’t leave out any of those things.”

  “Blaise, the team will understand if you tone down the party or cancel.”

  “I made a promise. Let’s think on it some more.” We have two months.

  “I did, but the idea is kind of crazy.”

  “You are the very definition of crazy, so shoot.”

  “Okay, here goes. Now remember, it’s just a plan. No need to panic or feel obligated to say yes.”

  “Collins.”

  She’s preempting for a reason. This plan of hers is so outside the box, I’ll most likely panic.

  “As Blaise Lexington, you were in demand, your presence alone bringing in huge crowds of partygoers to parties no one would otherwise go to. As Blaise Stassi, you can command thousands of dollars just to show up.”

  I suck in a breath. “Collins, you are brilliant.”

  “Wait, does that mean you’ll do it?”

  For my friend Syn?

  “Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

  I don’t need my grandfather’s money or my family’s name. However, I will have to convince my team I’ll be safe. Or as safe as I can be with Maddox on my arm.

  Except there’s a major problem.

  Maddox isn’t a fan of parties.

  He’ll sleep with celebrities and conduct business with men who have less-than-stellar reputations, but I doubt he wants to play the role of Mr. Blaise Stassi.

  What can I do to convince him?

  “Gotcha. Talk to you later, Blaise. Enjoy your wedding night.”

  There’s a teasing lilt in Collins’ voice. I smile, this time saddened. I’m not a believer in forever-after or love. I’ve resigned myself to a lonely existence, hiding away from the world and surrounding myself with men who can protect me.

  However, I do believe in finding some semblance of peace. My sight wanders to the view of the indoor pool beyond the kitchen. Water is my peace.

  “Good night, Collins. Thank you for being my friend.”

  “Always, Blaise.”

  9

  Blaise

  Maddox doesn’t come home that night or the next or the following night. Am I disappointed in the tone he’s setting for our first week as a “married” couple with his absence? Or should I be happy he sent flowers of condolences when the media blasted my grandfather’s death to the world?

  “Sorry for your loss, Blaise.”

  The words scrawled on the sympathy card are simple and expected. So is his silence when the media dropped news of my financials. I don’t have billions. I have a few thousand dollars, and that has to be good enough.

  After tossing and turning all night from my nightmares and feeling the walls closing in on me every time I think of my dad’s good name being dragged through the mud by my kidnapper, I take the chicken-shit way out and send Collins an early morning text that I am out for her crazy plan before I promptly pull the covers over my head.

  It’s best I lay low. Hiding from the world is my expertise. I didn’t go to college. Crowds and the idea of being touched or stared at kept me from pursuing higher education. Anyway, I have my grandfather’s mon
ey. Had Grandfather’s money.

  I have no skills and did nothing with my time except read romance books and throw parties, observing and living vicariously through the book characters and my party guests. After each romance book I finished, I would think of myself as a hopeless romantic. But, I’m not clueless.

  What’s written in the books is fantasy. My reality is a life without romance. Romance is for those who are normal. I’m far from it.

  My cell on the nightstand buzzes. Five calls already tonight. On the sixth time, I answer, tired of him toying with me.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, doll. Miss me?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Slow breaths. Slow breaths, Blaise. Otherwise, I’ll hyperventilate, remembering vividly the wooden box he put me in before he lowered the coffin into the ground.

  “You there, doll?”

  “What do you want?” My voice trembles. Oh, God, that’s not good. So not good. Fear is what he wants me to feel.

  “I want you, Blaise. You’ve always been what I wanted.”

  “Then why bury me with your dead sister?”

  “Is that who you think the corpse was?”

  He doesn’t give me time to answer.

  “She was your twin, doll. Did you know you had a twin sister?”

  He’s wrong. He has to be.

  “You’re a sick man. I’m an only child. My parents are Jack and Violet Lexington.”

  “Wrong!”

  His anger should startle me. I should block his number and destroy my cell for good measure. Except his anger gives me power over him. What other emotions can I elicit that will give me the upper hand? How can I draw him out from whatever dark hole he is hiding in? Can an abnormal girl draw out from the darkness a dangerous crazy who has the power to destroy her family? I can hope.

  “What was my sister’s name?”

  “Maya.”

  “How did she die?”

  “She drowned.”

  The sorrow in his voice . . . “You loved her.”