Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Sophia
"Boss." I sighed, but of course, I got no response. Scooting in my seat, I tapped the desk once, trying to pull his attention back to myself, "Maddox, do you plan to prep for this meeting or should I reschedule it? Because you aren't winging it this time." Last time was a nightmare. I had to do damage control for days on end.
His head shot up, blond hair flat to his forhead, and met my frustrated expression. A small apologetic smile formed on his lips, but it hardly reached his gray eyes. Shutting his phone down, he put it back onto his messy desk for the tenth time, keeping his eyes glued to it with anxiety swirling around them while he waited for it to go off. In the months I've worked side by side with Maddox, not once have I seen him this attached to his phone, but I know that he's just waiting for Mateo to text him, to give him a sign that he's still alive. Maddox's been like this since he's gotten to work; since Mateo took off yesterday. They speak every hour, but it doesn't help. I can't blame Maddox, in some weird way I'm a bit worried too. But Maddox takes it to a whole new level, dark circles drawn under his eyes, and a scowl that'd make you think twice before approaching him. Despite the outfit he's clearly chosen himself today, he's still managing to pull off that effortless appearance. It took me two seconds to figure out that Maddox would rather be anywhere but here today.
He can't find a place for himself, always moving between his office and my desk. The window or his desk. Couch or chair. It doesn't stop. He's trying to settle his mind, but remains restless, agitated, and I'm betting scared. Nothing I've done has helped. I'd be offended if I didn't recognize the role Mateo played in his eyes, or didn't see the spine chilling fear that's washing away the rest of the color in his barely colored eyes. "Sorry, Soph." He mumbled, leaning away from the desk, "Yeah, maybe just reschedule it. I'm not feeling it today."
I already did, but I thought not mentioning it would perhaps give him a distraction. I was wrong. I hate being wrong. I hate feeling helpless. "How can I help?" I asked, shutting my notebook on my lap, and readjusting my skirt, unsureness making me lack confidence.
"There's not a whole lot you can do. I just need to wait it out, and hope Texas doesn't burn down."
I slanted him a look. "That's dramatic. Texas will not burn."
"You don't know that."
"It's a whole state, Maddox, no way that's possible."
Maddox shook his head. "You have no idea what's possible when it comes to the cartels. "
It's the first time he's named the organization he was a part of. I didn't find it comforting. "Okay, perhaps I don't, but you know what I do know?"
His eyes lifted to me, almost begging me to give him a reason to stop stewing in this fear, a way to pull himself out of this dark hole. He wants me to tell him it'll be fine, and to give him another reason to stay with me, in this reality as he calls it. That survivor in me, the one that's been buried because I no longer needed her, the same one that helped me get through my childhood, woke. Angry, and so full of passion to protect Maddox, it's intensely filling, and gives very little space for clear minded thoughts. I forgot what this felt like, to be so full of such directed anger. Blinking it back, I focused on the man in front of me who needed me. "What I know is that Mateo didn't go down there alone, babe. He has his dad, his brother, Saint and even Joel. That's one hell of a protective detail, and none of them would ever allow anything to happen. A day or two, and this will be past us. You'll realize you panicked for nothing. Worrying isn't good on your heart."
