Maya Banks - Colters’ Promise

“You are my life, Callie. If anything I’ve said or done has made you doubt that even for a moment, I’m sorry. I would never have you feel that way.”

She shook her head because this wasn’t about her pouting and being dramatic. She didn’t want to bring him low. She just wanted her Max back. Dominant, badass Max who always had a firm hand with her.

“I just want to know what’s changed. Is it Lauren? Do I need to spell it out? We’re currently existing just like a normal couple with an average marriage and an average sex life. We aren’t normal, Max. I submit to you. I choose to submit. Wholly. With no reservations. That doesn’t mean sometimes or when I feel like it. It’s always. I made that commitment. It’s what I need. It’s what I want. But ever since we brought Lauren home, you’ve done everything but act the dominant counterpart. If anything, you’ve backed way off and have been careful not to seem remotely demanding in any aspect of our relationship.”

Max leaned his forehead against Callie’s and she felt the tremor of emotion flow through his body and into hers.

Slowly he rose and then extended his hand down to her. Wordlessly. Just a look that told her it wasn’t a request. Relief surged, making her shaky as she allowed him to pull her to her feet. He led her to the bed, pulled the covers back, and then motioned for her to crawl in.

He then sat on the edge, his body angled so he faced her. His expression was serious and a little uncertain. This wasn’t the Max she was used to.

“When I saw her,” he said in a low voice. “When I saw the bruises, when she told me what happened and she explained the relationship she had with this asshole, it sickened me. And then I began to think, is this me? Am I like that?”

Callie gasped. Of all the things she thought might be wrong, this certainly hadn’t been a consideration. It horrified her that Max was mentally comparing himself to the man who’d abused his sister.

He shook his head, a silent command for her to remain quiet.

“I’m controlling. You know this. I know this. From the day we met, I took over. I took, you gave. I dominated, you submitted. Some of the things that we do … God, Callie, can you imagine how someone looking in from the outside would view our relationship? Can you imagine if Lauren walked in when you’re across my lap and I’m spanking your ass? Or when I have you tied up and I’m fucking your ass after I’ve reddened it with a crop? How do you think that would look to her? Hell, she’d be calling nineone-one.”

Callie swallowed hard but remained silent as he continued.

“Do you know what would happen if one of your fathers or your brothers ever saw the marks on your body from one of our encounters? You have to know that I’m extremely careful with placement so that you don’t have to answer uncomfortable questions to your family and so they won’t come after me with a shotgun. Because if they ever so much as thought that I was hurting you, they’d kill me, dolcezza. They’d do it without remorse.”

“Oh Max,” she whispered. “Don’t you see the difference?”

Max closed his eyes. “I used to see it. Or rather, I thought I did. I told myself that I loved you and that you loved me and that this was a consensual relationship. I justified it in my head. I made excuses. But then I really looked hard and I asked myself what made me any different than the bastard who put those bruises on Lauren’s body?”

Callie leaned forward, cupping Max’s jaw in her palm. With her other hand, she laced her fingers through his and brought his hand up until it lay against her heart.

“When you aren’t so raw with grief over what’s happened to Lauren, you’ll realize how very different the situations are. You do nothing that I don’t want. You do nothing that we haven’t agreed upon. I can say no at any time. You pamper and spoil me endlessly. You take care of me. You give me everything I could ever possibly need or want. And you love me.

“He didn’t love Lauren. He wanted to control her. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to intimidate her. To him she was a thing. Something to vent his temper on. When have you ever touched me in anger? When have you ever lost control and struck me in anger?”

Max still looked indecisive and tortured.

“Are you trying to say that I don’t know the difference between love and abuse?” she asked softly. “That I don’t have a mind of my own and that you do all my thinking for me? That I’m just a puppet dancing on your strings? That I obey without question or that I’m too afraid to stand up to you?”

He visibly recoiled. “Hell no. You’re one of the strongest willed women I know.”

She smiled then and caressed the lines on his face. “Then tell me how on earth you think you’d ever get away with abusing me. Forget my dads and my brothers. If you ever crossed the line, it isn’t them you’d need to worry about. It’s me, because I’d kick your fucking ass all over this mountain. There wouldn’t be anything left for my fathers or brothers to mangle when I was finished with you.”

His expression eased and his lips twitched upward into a smile.

“So what you’re telling me is that I’m being a complete idiot.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said with a grin.

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, his face buried in her hair. “I love you, Callie. So damn much. I don’t want to ever be without you. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hurt you, if I ever abused your trust in me.”

She nestled her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

When he finally pulled away, his face was somber. “I don’t know what to do to help her, Callie. For the first several days I felt like the worst sort of fraud. God, I felt ashamed, like I was some hypocrite and that I wasn’t worthy of any better treatment than the son of a bitch who beat her.”

Callie smiled softly, allowing her love to shine through. “Just being here for her is helping. Us going to get her, not allowing her to close herself off and wallow in shame—that’s helping. She’s going to be fine. It’ll take time. The best thing you can do is not treat her like she’s broken. Don’t tiptoe around her. Treat her like she’s part of the family and that we’re thrilled she’s here. The rest will come in time.”

Max let his hand wander through her hair and then down to her bare breasts, where he toyed idly with her nipples. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a wise woman, Callie Wilder?”

She laughed. “No, I can honestly say that no one in my family has ever accused me of being anything but flighty and free-spirited. Wise doesn’t exactly fit in there anywhere.”

He kissed her temple and squeezed her tight again. “You’re my everything, dolcezza. And where you fit is right here with me. Always.”

“Then don’t hold back,” she begged. “I need you, Max. I need your dominance, your strength. Your control. I need that structure. It centers me. It reminds me that I have a place in this world. With you.”

He let his hands slide down to the bands circling her wrists. The bands he’d placed there as a symbol of his ownership. To him, they were more important than their wedding rings. They meant more. They went deeper.

“Never take these off,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

She extended both wrists, holding them upward in supplication. “I’m yours, Max. I don’t want to ever be anything else. I’ll never take them off unless you ask me to.”

He leaned forward, finding her lips in the sweetest of kisses. “Good, because I’m never going to ask.”

HOLLY awoke in the middle of the night shivering, and the ache in her lower side had intensified to a fiery pain that wasn’t alleviated by movement. Ryan lay sleeping beside her, but no one was on her other side. Adam and Ethan had evidently taken to their own beds instead of crashing in the common bedroom tonight.

She pushed to the vacant side, careful not to awaken Ryan. Her feet hit the cold floor and she shivered as another chill overtook her. Fire splintered through her side and she hunched over, grabbing for the edge of the bed to steady herself. Nausea welled in her throat and she swallowed hard against the urge to vomit.

She managed to stagger into the kitchen, and she opened the medicine cabinet to get some ibuprofen. After shaking out four pills, she returned the bottle and started toward the cabinet for a glass.

Pain assaulted her, spearing through her, robbing her of breath. She fell, hitting the floor with a thud, driving the air from her lungs in a painful rush. She lay there, balled into a fetal position, afraid to move because the pain was so horrific.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Ryan,” she called weakly. “Adam? Ethan?”

Darkness hovered on the fringes. She fought unconsciousness as the pain intensified. She heard a distant sound, tried to call out again, but the blackness swirled until she was dizzy with it.