"We're not having one," Archer cut her off with a firm voice.
"Oh." Alyssa sounded totally gobsmacked. "But—"
"I'm sorry; I should have told you sooner. But we have an intimate family dinner planned. My girl hasn't seen her father for several months, you see? So we just want to make the night before our wedding a really special family moment. You understand, of course."
I couldn't fight the smile creeping over my lips as Archer reached over and ended the call on my phone.
"Family dinner, huh?" I asked him with narrowed eyes.
He shrugged. "What better wedding present for my bride than a pound of flesh?"
I groaned, letting my eyes roll back. "You say the sweetest things sometimes, husband."
An evil smirk played over his lips. "Come over here and I'll show you just how sweet I can really be." His eyes flashed, and his hand moved under the table as he leaned back in his chair.
Fucking hell. With an offer like that... I didn't even bother pushing my chair back. I just climbed directly over the table and into his lap. We could spare a couple of minutes for a quickie.
Or a not so quickie, as it turned out.
24
Later that night, Steele called me. I grabbed my slices of cold pizza that I'd just swiped from the fridge and told the guys I was going to my room. As much as I was loving having the whole day with Archer and Kody, I wanted to talk to Steele alone.
"Hey you," I murmured, answering his call on my way up to my room. "I thought I might have heard from you sooner than this."
His heavy sigh gusted down the phone. "I'm sorry, Hellcat." His voice was thick and his words slightly slurred. "I wanted to call... You're all I can think about."
I closed my bedroom door behind me and made my way over to my bed. "Max... are you drunk?"
He yawned. "Yup. Super drunk. Told you I would be."
My heart hurt for him. This weekend with his parents was clearly painful, and I badly wanted to be there.
"Steele..." I trailed off with a sigh of frustration and flopped down onto my bed. "Can I ask you something?"
He hiccupped. "You can ask me anything, beautiful."
"How come your parents never came to the hospital? You almost died, Max, and they never even came to see you." I swallowed heavily, knowing I was picking at an open wound. I wanted to understand him better, though. I wanted to know what had happened between Steele and his parents that they cared so little for him because I couldn't imagine how it was even possible when I loved him so hard it hurt.
Steele let out a small groan, and I could picture him running his hand over his face. "The short answer? They're bad people. It's why I don't want you meeting them, Hellcat. Maybe they're not bad enough to deserve a bullet to the head and a trip to Benny's... but I don't want them in our life."
Our life.
Sorrow rippled through me at the bitterness in his tone, but I understood. Apparently none of us had much luck in the parent department. Maybe that's why we all fit together so well.
"Can I play for you?" Steele asked, changing the subject. "My dad tried to force me to play at the memorial earlier, and I told him to get fucked. But Rachel used to love when I played for her... Can I play for you tonight instead?"
"Of course you can," I whispered, getting comfortable against my pillows to listen.
There was a short pause, I imagined while he was getting to a piano, then he hiccupped again and groaned. "Mixing wine and spirits was probably a bad idea," he mumbled, almost to himself. "Or maybe it was the half bottle of tequila. Something like that. Eh, anyway. I'm in the hotel lobby," he told me with a short laugh. "Apparently I don't care who else hears me play so long as I'm playing for you."
When he started playing, I sucked in a gasp and bit my lip. "Max..." I groaned. "I know this tune."
He gave a small laugh, his breath heavy like he was trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and ear while he played. Apparently being drunk hadn't impacted his coordination.
"I should hope so," he murmured back. "I finished writing it, though. Even gave it a name... first time I've ever named one of my own songs. Usually Rachel named them."
My chest ached at the sorrow and pain in his voice as he spoke of his dead sister. It was no wonder why he'd had his back ink done to honor her memory.
"So, what's it called?" I asked gently, wrapping my arm around myself like the hug I wanted to give him.
He huffed a short laugh. "Release."
I laughed. "Seriously?"
I could hear the grin in his voice as he replied. "Absolutely. I couldn't have thought of a better name to reflect the emotion behind this piece if I tried."
I grinned like an idiot up at my blank ceiling. I held fond memories of the release I'd found when he first played this tune for me over the phone.
This time, though, I just lay there and listened, absorbing every note, every keystroke, every raw emotion that Steele poured into his music in a way I'd never heard before.
Angry male voices interrupted the serenity of Steele's music a moment later, though, and the song cut off abruptly as the phone line clattered like he'd just dropped his device.
I sat up in a panic. My ears strained to hear what was being shouted, but couldn't make out the words. All I could hear were raised voices from at least two men, then a woman's scream.
Fuck. Fuck. Max was in trouble.
"Max!" I shouted, despite how futile it was when he clearly wasn't holding his phone anymore. "Steele! Hey, what's going on? Max!"
A second later, the line clattered again, and a heavy sigh reached my ears, followed by a muttered curse from Steele. "Sorry, Hellcat," he murmured with a groan. "Apparently my father needed a lesson in manners."
Cold anxiety washed through me, mixed with relief. It wasn't an assassination attempt, only his dad. Fuck me.
"What happened?" I asked in a strangled whisper, my pulse still racing.
Steele made a hissing sound, like he'd hurt himself. "I knocked his ass out," he mumbled. "If that doesn't send the message that I'm done with this family, I don't know what will."
Oh shit. Steele's voice practically dripped venom and despair, like he could hardly believe he'd finally been pushed that far. He was hurting so damn much, and I should have been there for him.
"Come home, Max," I whispered, my voice choked up as tears for his pain streamed down my cheeks. "Come home to us, please?"
"Yeah," he said on another heavy sigh, like the weight of the damn world was on his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm leaving now. I'll be home by morning, Hellcat."
The relief that his words brought me was staggering. If I hadn't been sitting, I would have fallen. "I love you, Max," I told him, my voice firm and my words heartfelt. "I fucking love you. Come home safe."
"I will, Hellcat," he murmured, his breathing labored as I guessed he was making his way back up to his room. "I love you more."
With that declaration, the call dropped out. He'd likely just stepped into the elevator, but it didn't matter. He was coming home, and he loved me. That was all that mattered.