Sunday 'Sunny' Santos
”I wasn't expecting to see you tonight..” I sit up, reaching for the blanket to cover myself, feeling terrifyingly vulnerable after riding the incredible high of wave after wave of ecstasy, freeing me from a pent up prison.. Now that my pulse slowly calms, returning to a steady beat and my brain begins to function again, I can't help but replay the whole encounter in my head and feel the heat of embarrassment climb my throat.. What had I said and done in my frenzied state? “I wasn't really expecting– um--any of this–”
Max at least does me the courtesy of trying to hide the devilish pride in his satisfied smirk, though I can still see it tickling the tips of his lips.. “Ah, so you didn't want me to catch you?”
“I don't know– maybe I thought about it for like-- a second–” Reluctantly I admit to the undeniable, after all I had been moaning his name.. Turning my face away I hide behind my brunette curls with a bashful blush.. “Estoy avergonzada–” (I'm embarrassed)
“Don't be..” He advises with a warm, forgiving drawl and the Slavic twinge of his accent sends a heady rush of sensual vibrations though me.. “Everybody’s got needs, Bunny..”
“I know that–” My cheeks burn as I indignantly wriggle around to wrap the sheets around myself like a messy toga.. I try not to succumb to my curiosity of what kind of needs he might also have and how I could fulfil them.. “And just so you know, I was only doing what the doctor told me to–”
Santa Maria!
What is wrong with me?!
Why can't I control myself around him?
“He told you to what?” The Sharks eyes darken with fury and his spine tightens as he sits up straighter, his perfect pearly teeth gritted tight.. “That mother-ff-fucker–”
“No, not like that–” I wave a soft, placating hand at him before hauling myself out of bed to duck into the closet.. Quickly slipping into a silky powder blue robe and checking my hair in the mirror.. I fix my mussed reflection before crossing back to the door as I tie a bow in my belt.. “It's just that I’ve been having all these strange– um– feelings and– urges..” Chewing at my bottom lip I quickly add.. “From all the hormones, you know–”
“I noticed..” He chuckles with a dry toying grin, leaning back to make himself comfortable, lifting a hand in an enticing gesture of invitation as I pad barefoot across the floor..
“Hey, don’t tease! I can't help it!” I giggle, reflexively reaching out to shove his shoulder, my palm greeted by his unmoving stone mass.. “Saint said that stress is bad for the baby so–”
Max catches my hand before I can withdraw, curling his tattooed fingers around my wrist he pulls me down to land in his lap.. “Tell me what has you stressed, Little Bunny?” Concern crinkles the corners of his fearsome sapphire stare, his eyes narrowing on me as if to inspect and assess me for signs and symptoms of exhaustion.. "I'll fix it.."
Oh Dios mio, he is so warm and hard, his granite muscle encasing me.as his arms wind around my back.. Giving into the comfort and security of his embrace, I lean into it, even while a niggling voice in the back of my head wails at me to be wary..
Squirming under the intensity of his laser-like focus, I shake my head.. “I'm more--uhem--frustrated, I think there's a difference.. You're stressed.."
“Yeah?” With a bemused snort he shrugs, not even trying to deny the accusation, but not offended by the suggestion either.. “What does that matter?”
It is as if The Loan Shark simply accepts this volatile state of constant pressure as perfectly unremarkable.. In fact, to him it appears to be the default, like his version of normal..
I frown, finding it difficult to remain silent about the injustice of his burdens any longer.. “It matters to me, Max..” Hot and threatening anxious claws grips at my heart as an outpouring of idiotic honesty flows from me like a busted faucet..
“Bunny–”
Preempting his pitiful tone and sympathetic eyes, I try to swerve the humiliation of what feels like another inevitable rejection.. “No, I get it, Max.. I know nobody wants me to have feelings about any of this but–”
His proud jaw sets in irritation.. “Sunny–”
“I mean– of course I have feelings.. Not that that's your problem– obviously it's not.. It's just hard not to be emotional when I'm–” Once again feeling that panicky fever flourish into a furnace in my chest, I look down at my unassuming little belly, experiencing yet another daunting and surreal realisation that there is a tiny life growing inside me.. The walls of possibility begin to close on me, and suddenly I am bombarded with every worst case scenario imaginable.. Pain, loss, fear, grief, suffering– they all combine to result in my ultimate destruction.. How am I supposed to become a mother when I know nothing of a mother's love? How am I supposed to be a good parent when my own father was a petty conman who abandoned his only daughter.. “I’m pregnant.. And I’m completely lost, trying to figure out how to fit into this new life, in a new family, where everybody keeps telling me I don't belong–”
“Sunday!” Putting an end to my breathless rambling, Max cuts me off.. The stern tone of his voice, thick with harsh authority, frightens me out of my skin, causing me to leap to my feet in retreat..
“Lo Siento–” (sorry) I peep as my heart flutters dangerously, thumping against my sternum until I feel as though I might puke..
“Fuck–” With a cuss of self-reproach, Max runs an ink-laden hand back though his glossy black hair, brushing it neatly into place as he rises to his full and impressive height.. “Sit..” He waves in direction to the foot of the bed and I move into place as if upon instinct..
It feels so natural to follow his will.. So easy..
“Am I in trouble?” I shuffle backwards until my bottom bumps against the mattress..
“No..” He assures shortly, taking a slow approaching step closer to me as I sink down to sit on the edge of the bed.. “But when you get all worked up like that, your ff-fight or flight kicks in and you ss-stop breathing..”
I blink.. “I do?”
“Bunny, you're clearly having panic attacks..” His folded arms fall slack at his sides as sympathetic sapphires pierce my soul..
“I am?” I shirk off the involuntary shiver that runs down my spine and force my eyes upwards to meet his stare.. “How do you know?”
“I was a field officer, remember–” He folds his beefy arms across his broad chest and I watch as the soft cotton fabric of his crisp white Henley statins against formidably hewn pecs.. “You think I don't know shellshock when I see it?”
“I'm not a soldier, Max..” I shake my head.. “I've never been to war.. I've never even been in a fight!”
His slicing silvery stare softens as he carefully extends a warm hand to caress my cheek.. Max sighs, a mouthful breath of sympathy, stroking gently at the bruise that lingers upon my skin.. “Bunny, you've been ff-fighting to ss-survive for too long..”
“But all that is over now– Isn't it? Javi is-- gone -- and you promised you wouldn't hurt me, so--" I resist the urge to lean into his touch, trying to hold firm and act braver than I feel.. “So why is it still happening?”
“If I had to guess–” Looking down at me though that frosty discerning gaze, the one that gives me chills of excitement, he makes his assessment without a hint of judgement.. “I’d say maybe it's because you bottle everything up, like a teeny-tiny ticking time bomb set to--KAPOW!” With a theatrical gesture of an atomic explosion, Max demonstrates my instability with a hint of humour for levity..
It's sweet that he wants to make me feel better about my craziness..
"You think I'm angry?" I chuckle nervously.. "Eso es loco!” (that's crazy)
"It's either anger or fear.. Dealers choice.." A dry, pessimistic smile accompanies his cutting advice..
“I already told you, I’m not scared of you, Max..” My protest is timid but adamant, despite the betraying race of my heart and the way my body involuntarily flinches every time he moves too fast or his temper flares..
“Then what are you scared of?” He questions, doubtful of my unconvincing defence..
“I don't know– It's happened ever since I can remember– It's like my ears get hot and my palms get clammy.. My heart starts to beat super fast and my chest feels kinda tight.. Then before I know it I can't breathe properly and everything starts to get all squiggly–”
"Squiggly?" He squints, appearing to make an attempt at deciphering the meaning of my inarticulate vocabulary..
"Sí.." I nod.. "Squiggly.."
“Maybe you think someone's gonna hurt you?” Rocking back on his heels, he probes me to delve deeper into the very same darkness I have been trying to avoid..
“People will hurt you, Mi Ángel, that's a given.” Expensive silk greets my fingertips as I wrap my arms around myself, recoiling at the stab of bitter nostalgia that seeds deep in my roiling stomach.. “They also leave..”
“You're afraid of-- being alone?” He frowns as if the concept were a construct so complex it impossible to conceive, even while hammering the nail on the head and into my aching heart.. "Hm--” He grunts.. "Figures your version of hell would be my idea of heaven.."
"You don't really mean that.." I hum, feeling the gentle sway of the mattress dipping as Max sits beside me..
"No.." He muses in soft agreement.. "I don't.."
I nervously chew the inside of my cheek as my attention drifts to the tiny inverted crucifix tattoo that marks his cheek.. My fingers twitch at my side, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the intimidating ink.. “Before Javi-- that's what I was.. Alone..”
“What about your grandmother?” He leans a little closer, curiosity etched into the hard and distinguished lines of his handsome face.. “The one in Oaxaca?”
“I haven't seen her since I was a little girl..” I shrug.. “I haven't even spoken to her since mi padre moved us to America– to live here in Darkport.. We were supposed to start a new life together but–” (my father)
Max doesn't interrupt me or press me for more, he simply waits patiently for me to soothe myself with a deep restorative breath.. The short silence is comfortable, inviting even.. For the first time I feel like my secrets won't be held against me by a man, or that I won't be punished for being who I am..
Somehow Max makes me feel free to be me, to be honest about the things I'd always tried to keep inside, and that is something altogether new to me..
“He left me..” I finally manage to confess..
“Why would he bring you all that way, just to leave you?”
“I can't be sure, but I think he probably did it to punish mi Abuela.. They fought a lot after mi madre died.. She blamed him, said he 'stole her only daughter from her'.. Something like that.. I remember them shouting about it often.. It got better– at least for a little while.. But then slowly he became more unhappy.. More angry.. More violent.. Until i came home one day and he was just– gone.. All the furniture was missing, the house was empty– it was like he'd never lived there.. I spent six months sleeping on the street before Javi took me in..” (my mother)
Carved muscles flex as Max's jaw ticks with anger.. “He took advantage of you–”
“He put a roof over my head–”
“He turned you into a trick..” Max refutes and the truth of his brutal truth stings as ferociously as any slap across the face ever could..
“He was all I had..” Tears well in my eyes..
“Admit it, Bunny–” Like a laser beam his brilliant blue gaze holds me transfixed, daring me to prove him wrong.. “Part of you hates me for talking him out of this world..”
“No–” I choke, twisting to my knees atop the plush bedding.. “I wanted this–”
The air in the room seems to thin and dissipate, making it hard to breathe as he arches a disbelieving dark brow.. “No.. You wanted freedom..”
“Sí! Of course I wanted that-- I still do!” I shake my head to clear away the confusion and doubt, though it doesn't actually achieve all that much.. “Yes, Javi was a scary guy-- I was scared-- and if I'd somehow worked up the guts and left, him he probably would have killed me.. But if I'm being honest, the real reason I never tried to leave him before was because– I was even more terrified of being alone..”
My breath catches in my chest, frozen solid in anticipation as I await the expected mocking sneer or judgemental scowl..
But it never comes..
“You're not alone, Little Bunny..” One enormous paw cups my cheek and the tenderness of it is enough to send my bottom lip quivering..
“I already lost one family, Max..” I whimper weakly.. “I don't think I can stand to lose another..”
Max takes my chin between two fingers before tipping my gaze up to meet his.. “That won't happen, Zakya..”
“You say that, Max, because you don't seem to realise the person I'm most afraid of losing now– is you..” Salty rivulets of silver tears trickle down my cheeks and Max swipes them away with the pad of his thumb..
"Don't cry now--" With a soft purr his sad stormy eyes search mine for understanding.. “Nothing lasts forever, Malyshka..” (babygirl)
“Oh..” His words are an arrow of ice to my chest.. “Then why do any of this? Why bring me into your life?”
He smiles faintly.. “I like to think of it as paying a penance.. Finally doing something good and making something right, after doing so many ff-fucking things wrong.."
“What kind of things?"
“When it comes to my business–” His expression hardens.. “The less you know the better..”
“Oh, sí if you say so– I just–” I fumble.. “You've done so much for me– I was only trying to help..”
“You’re sweet, Zakya..” He hums with the faint hint of a smile.. “But I know what I'm doing, and I can handle myself..”
“I believe that..” I smile back up at him as the glow of his rare gentle warmth washes over me.. “You're calm in a crisis.. Unlike me..” I pluck up the nerve to speak again, saying a little more than I'm sure I should.. “Actually, you seem calm all the time– well, except…”
“Except?”
“When Luka and Verity are around..” I shift.. “Sometimes I think maybe they challenge your patience?"
“They challenge my ff-fucking blood pressure..” He grumbles humorously..
Treading carefully, I venture one step farther.. “Did you ever notice how when we're alone– just you and me, talking doesn't seem to trouble you so much and that angry little vein in your neck almost disappears.. I mean-- you've barely stuttered a few words tonight.. But then around Luka and Verity–”
“I notice, Zakya.. Believe me..” He sighs, reaching up to rub at the side of his scarred neck, lost in thought.. “I notice the way people look at me, all pitty while they piss in my cup.. They think I'm stupid, underestimate me because I talk slow.. The corps deemed me unfit for service-- said I was a goddamn liability.. Hell, my own flesh and ff-fucking blood doubt my every move..” His hand wraps around the front of his throat as if he could feel a noose tightening around his neck.. “Sometimes I wonder if maybe they're all right..”
“I don't think you're stupid..” I inch closer to him.. “You’re probably the smartest guy I've ever met–”
“Low fucking bar, Bunny..” He scoffs as his head tips to one side sarcastically.. “And I still wasn't ss-smart enough to leave a sweet thing like you out of my mess..”
“What mess, Max?”
“Truth is– I'm about to start a war like the Southside’s never seen before.. And once the streets of Bermuda are soaked in blood, after the smoke clears, the Ternion will never be the same again.. Darkport will finally have it's fucking reckoning..” His aura blackens as he speaks, his conviction unwavering, although it appears he takes little pleasure in the premise of battle..
A sentiment we share, since I would much prefer to avoid violence at all costs.. "You saw me at the shooting range, I was awful, and we both know I don't have the stomach for killing.. I still don't understand what you need me for?"
"Because wars are won with strategy, not emotions, and just like in a game of chess, nobody can make a move if there are no pieces to play.." His explanation, while simple, does little to alleviate my concern, especially with all this talk of fire and brimstone..
"So I'm just a pawn?"
"No, Bunny.." A slow, sharky smile curls upon his kissable lips.. "You're my queen.."
A queen, he calls me..
His Queen..
I bask in the coronation as he grins at me with a glow of appreciation in his oceanic blue eyes, and the heady power of it flows through veins.. I've never been compared to royalty before and I've definitely never felt the way Max makes me feel.. Like I am somebody who matters.. Somebody special..
Loyalty and devotion swirl together within me.."Tell me what are we fighting for.. Is it about revenge?” I ask, nodding towards his scars.. “Do you want to go after the 'friend' who did that to you?”
"It's not about that, Zakya--" He cracks his knuckles, shifting side to side like an agitated wild animal..
A heaviness hangs in the air and for the first time I witness Max's iron-clad exterior cracks, exposing something raw and complex underneath.. “Lo siento– I shouldn't have asked–” (I'm sorry)
“No.. You’ve been honest with me..” He sighs, relinquishing his frustration as he leans back on his hands, making himself comfortable on my bed.. “I at least owe you that much..”
...
I sit enthralled as Max tells me about the night he got his scars.. He recalls how his estranged wife Sofiya had called him begging for help, and how he'd rushed to be there for her in her time of need.. He talks of the bitter taste of betrayal, the ambush, and grisly details of the violence that ensued.. He describes the torment he felt when the wire was wrapped around his neck and the gruesome pain of his flesh tearing away as the bike took off, pulling his body across the asphalt, up and down the street..
Max talks.. And I listen.. Every word from his lips only making me fall deeper into a trance and under his powerful, intoxicating influence..
★★★
Note from the author...
Hey Besties, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!
Don't forget to vote and drop a comment ❤️
Do you think Sunny is falling in love? Or is it just the Stockholm Syndrome talking?
How do you feel about Max now that his walls are starting to come down?
Can't wait to hear from you all!
Much love
Leela x