My heart pounds. “What happened?”

“Four mafia enforcers broke into our home to collect the money my father owed them. I think he had hoped my winnings would cover the payments, but it wasn’t enough. They found my mother and me hiding in the bedroom. They saw her engagement ring. It was a huge diamond. I don’t know how my father ever afforded it.”

“Oh no,” I whisper.

“They wanted it. She refused. She said it was all she had left to remember my father the way he used to be—when they were young and in love and nothing else mattered.”

“She was a romantic.”

“They all had knives but she wouldn’t let me protect her.” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “I pushed her behind me. I knew how to fight. I had a wall full of trophies and championship belts to prove it. But she wouldn’t stay out of the way. And she wouldn’t give up the ring. I tried so damn hard…” He buries his face in my hair.

Tears spring to my eyes. “Oh, Max. I know you did.”

“I managed to knock out two of them, but by then the other two had her. They tried to pull the ring off her finger, but she fought them off. One of them threw her against a glass cabinet. It shattered and a piece of glass cut her throat. There was so much blood.”

My stomach clenches. The glass must have cut her carotid artery. She didn’t have a chance.

“I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t save her.” His voice is so low, I can barely hear him. “I should have fought harder. I should have made her listen. If she had done what I said, she would be alive today.”

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Max, honey, you were only fourteen. You were her baby. I’m sure she was just trying to protect you.”

He draws in a ragged breath. “My father didn’t see it that way. He blamed me. He said I had failed her. I wasn’t good enough. After all the training, when it really mattered, I failed. He shot himself that evening.”

“Oh God.” I twist, breaking his grip, and turn to throw my arms around him. I hug him tight. “I’m so sorry. To go through that at fourteen.”

Max stiffens. “It was a long time ago.”

“What did you do?” I press my cheek against his, and tighten my arms.

“I lived with my aunt and uncle until I was old enough to leave. Then I took my inheritance and never looked back.”

“You didn’t stay in touch?”

“My father’s family were scattered all over. They weren’t close. My mother’s family blamed me for her death. I could see it in their eyes. I could hear it in their voices. They didn’t want me around.”

My heart aches for him. I wish I could do something to ease the pain I see in his eyes. I sit back and run my fingers over his chest. “Is that what your tattoos are about? Is that why you say they represent failure?”

“Not just that night,” he rasps. “I ink every failure into my skin so I remember.”

I press my lips against his chest. “What you think are failures are beautiful to me,” I whisper. “They make you who you are. They make you my Max.”

Max’s body tenses. He slides his hand to my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length. “I won’t go through it again,” he says, his voice thick. “I’ve worked hard to get to the point I know I will be able to defend the people I love.” His voice drops to a husky whisper. “I love you, Makayla. I couldn’t bear to lose you. I want to protect you and keep you safe, but you need to let me in.” He cups my face in his hands and gently tilts my head back. Tears spill over my cheeks. His eyes are filled with pain and tenderness. He slants his mouth over mine and our lips brush in a gentle, soft kiss.

He loves me.

He loves me, and I can’t say it back.

He kisses away my tears and then our lips meet once more. His tongue slides inside my mouth, stroking, searching for something I don’t have to give.

“So beautiful,” he whispers. “Heal me, Makayla.” He picks me up and carries me to his bed, rumpled and cool and smelling of Max. We undress each other, slowly, gently, and then we make sweet love surrounded by memories and sawdust in the very heart of Redemption.

***

Three hours later, we descend the stairs into chaos. The Friday night Redemption party is in full swing. Max keeps one arm around my shoulders, and we mingle with the fighters. He introduces me to his venture capitalist business partner, Jason. Taller than Max and leaner, with blue-gray eyes, dark hair and a chiseled jaw, he would send Amanda into a flirting frenzy. How does Cindy get any work done?

“So have you talked Max into fixing up this dive and making it into a proper mixed martial arts facility?” His voice is deep and low. Definitely Amanda-worthy.

“I didn’t know he was considering it.”

“I’m not,” Max interjects. “I like it the way it is.”

Jason shakes his head. “I’ve told him again and again, he could make some serious money if he fixes the place up and gets all the proper licenses. He lost a lot of guys to sanctioned clubs, and yet he still has a waiting list. He’s a great instructor and he’s hired some great people. With very little effort, this could be one of the top MMA training facilities in the state.”

Max shakes his head. “I’ve told you before, too many rules, too many regulations, and too much money.”

“Don’t you want to test yourself against the best?” I ask. “Don’t you want to train your fighters to fight against the best? And you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone shutting you down.”