Coming Home

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Max's body came on top of hers as they fell on the ground. The walls exploded; dust and glass rain down on them as he urged her on her feet. They staggered behind the door, covering their bodies as a large chunk of glass hit the floor, shattering in tiny pieces. She covered her ears, eyes shut tight as her heart pounded inside her chest; her pulse picked up and fear overwhelmed her.

Male hands gripped her arms and thrust her forward. Max's gaze ran over her body, looking for possible injuries she could have gotten from the impact. She was still shivering by the time he took her in his arms, hold so tight, air almost left her lungs.

"You're not hurt anywhere?" he asked.

She shook her head as strands of hair fell over her eyes. "You're not injured?"

"I'm fine." He cupped her face, fear written all over his face. "Can you stand up?" she let him lead her inside the master's bedroom, arms wrapped tightly around her as she sat on the bed. Her legs shook, unable to form a single thought. She was shook. She didn't what had just happened. Before she could ask him what had happened, Max had already stood up and dialed numbers on his phone.

He spoke briefly on whoever was on the other line before shutting off his phone. He looked angry, furious at what had happened. He didn't speak much but uttered only words of instructions. So when he told her to pack up her bags, she immediately went to her room and did as she was told. She grabbed whatever available clothes she had on the dresser before stuffing them inside her duffel bag. She didn't know where they were going, but didn't bother asking.

What had happened back there at the living room was something serious. It wasn't something they could put off. Someone could possibly be threatening them. They headed straight to the parking lot, where Max threw his own bag inside and urged her inside before following after her. He drove like hell was after them, feet pressing hard on the pedal, not uttering a word to her since they'd walked out of his penthouse.

"What happened back there, Max?" she asked after a couple of minutes of utter silence.

He didn't even glance at her as he spoke, "someone sent off a bomb in the penthouse. I don't how the hell someone has managed to get inside but it's not something I can pass on."

"But who could possibly set off a bomb inside?" The explosion had ruined thousands of dollars worth of things and not enough insurance would cover the whole damage caused by the abrupt surprise. She'd always known the penthouse was his safe haven. It meant a lot to him and had later found out, that it had been one of his first investments when he was a little younger. Now it was all wrecked.

"I don't have any suspects in mind, yet but I'll get to the bottom of this." They pulled into an unfamiliar driveway and found the gates automatically opening, as Max stopped in front of a mansion. This would be the first time she'd see the house and for one second, she'd thought he brought them to his parents house. But the familiar fountain at the driveway was gone and the familiarity of the Smiths mansion didn't resemble this one bit. He must have brought her to another property of his.

She hopped out of the car and followed him inside the mansion. She was exhausted and she still wore her black dress that had ridden up her thighs. She'd forgotten to change while she was back at the penthouse, and hadn't thought of her state when he'd urged her out. But now as she stood in the living room, arms crossed over her breasts, chills covering her bare legs as her husband walked in with their bags.

He was still mad at her. She could feel the anger rolling off of him as she began to dig through her bag. She'd managed to throw in a couple of clean underwear, a few shorts and shirts and a nightdress. Venice sighed. She'd forgotten to take a couple of jeans and pants in her hurry. Now what was she supposed to do? Wear these flimsy materials and parade around the house like she owned it? She didn't want to provoke Max considering the ride he'd lost tonight.

Things had happened too fast that she barely realized it when he'd walked in. None of the bedrooms were decorated and a king-sized air bed was brought out into the living room. There would be no other bed than this make-shift mattress where she'd have to share with him. Sleeping in the same bed wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind tonight. Venice had hoped she'd be with another bed, exploring the ways she could lose herself in, but had ended up getting Max in a bar fight and their house exploding.

"We have to sleep on this bed for tonight," her husband said as he tugged at his tie.

She looked away, knowing she didn't have anywhere else to go. "Maybe I should just find the nearest hotel and sleep there."

"You're not going anywhere," he muttered bitterly.

"I don't think sleeping in the same bed would solve whatever problem we have, Max." She whispered quietly.

He gave her a once-over before meeting her eyes again. Her face was flushed and her breathing grew ragged as she remembered that night once more. "I'm not in the right frame of mind for your games tonight, Venice. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep right here even if you don't want to. You're free to sleep on the floor but you might end up catching a cold."

He wasn't leaving her a choice. Max didn't want her to go anywhere else, which she understood because of the possibility of being theatened. But it wasn't an excuse he should use for her to stay. He could just asked her and she'd stay. She should have known not to put her expectations on him.

She quickly changed into her nightgown and turned off the lights in the living room. Max was already in bed by the time she slipped in bed next to him. His breathing was even and slightly loud against the quiet night. This was the first time she was sharing a bed with him, and she wouldn't deny it that it made her feel awkward.

She laid rigid on her side; eyes focused on the wall as she tried not to fidget. She wasn't comfortable but she'd make do of the make-shift bed that slightly hurt her back. By the time she'd turned and tossed a few times, Max finally complained and threw the sheets back to look at her.

"Will you keep still? I can't sleep with you moving like that."

"Sorry," she apologized. "I can't keep still when I'm not comfortable."

Max gave an exasperated sigh. "We can't go back to the penthouse. I've already called the police to look over the apartment. Some of the security members are already looking through our things, just to make sure none of them are missing."

"You sure you haven't made enemies in the past before?' she asked, turning on her back so she faced the ceiling.

A couple of minutes passed by before he answered. "I've always done my best to get along with everybody in the business world. But there are some that don't wish to play nice, especially when it comes to sealing the biggest deal."

"So is that a yes to my question?" she prompted.

He nodded. "I met an intern once but that was years ago. He was a lot younger than me and capable of murder. He'd always talked about how he was my biggest fan and wants to become just as sucessful as me when he's a little older."

"I didn't mind it at first and thought he was just a simple fan. But things became a hassle when he started to meddle with the company's problem and thought he had the experience and right to go through records that are not for everyone's eyes."

"What happened to him now?" she asked, head propped up on her arm.

"I fired him," he stated simply. "I had no choice but to crush his little dream. He's a smart man but he wasn't smart enough to know that those things are confidential. But he chose to break his contract and the Smiths Inc. policies."

This was the first time he was opening to her. It hadn't been for the explosion in the penthouse, she wouldn't think he'd talk at all. But their life was in danger. That incident in the kitchen wasn't just a coincidence; someone wanted them dead and none of them knew who could possibly do such thing. It might be his ex-employee but they didn't have enough solid evidence to prove him a suspect.

"The police will interview us tomorrow morning," Max said after a while. "Just say what happened and leave it as is. Don't mention anything about what I said tonight."

She turned to him in surprise. "You don't want them to know about this ex-employee of yours?'

She saw him shake his head. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. We don't have enough proof to point him out as suspect."

"But you just said that he might be one," she pointed out slowly.

"An assumption isn't enough as an evidence, Venice." She had nothing more to say other than stay quiet. She was still wrapped up in shock after what had just happened an hour ago. It all seemed unreal; they'd gotten married a few days ago and now someone wanted them dead. She was starting to think that bad things were starting to happen as soon as they'd gotten married. Surely, it didn't have anything to do with their agreement, right?

Whatever problem they were facing, the police had to get involved. He might not want to make a big deal out of this but their life was in danger. The rest of the Smiths would surely do everything in their power to put the culprit behind bars. Surely, her mother-in-law would make a fuss as soon as she heard about the news. Max wouldn't want his family worried, but they deserved to know. She made a mental note about messaging his family tomorrow morning, and turned on her side, facing her husband.

She glanced at him and found him fast asleep already. In spite of the dark, moonlight had streamed through the window surface and highlighted his facial features. His dark brows were drawn into a small frown, bottom lip jutted out in a cute manner; lashes so thick it fanned his cheeks. She reached out and traced his brow shape, feeling his muscles contract as he uttered a protest.

Venice wouldn't deny that she was still mad at him. He'd left her for another woman and saw him lingering at the club after leaving her. But all that anger and fury died down when she'd felt him protect her as shreds of glass fell around them. He brought her to safety as soon as another explosion had occured. He'd brought her along with him to another property, and in spite of his actions back in the club, she'd realized he cared for her, probably so much more than she'd ever imagine.

She let her body lead her mind as she curled around his body. His chin grazed her forehead; his five o' clock shadow evident on his lower chin and jawline. He hadn't shaved in a few days and hadn't been home since the night he'd trapped her in her room. She didn't doubt his capability in bed but it wasn't the right time to give into temptations. Sighing, she closed her eyes and slept.