Liquid Assets (Liquid Regret #3) Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by MJ Carnal

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To the reader: If you have downloaded this book for free or have downloaded from a site other than Amazon, Barnes and Noble or iBooks, this may be a pirated copy. Please contact the author immediately. Piracy is illegal. Please honor this author and all other authors buy purchasing legal copies of their work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, or incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locations, or events is purely coincidental.

  The book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Cover Model: Ripp Baker

  Cover Photographer: Golden of FuriousFotog

  Cover Designer: Cover Me, Darling

  Editor: Kellie Montgomery

  Dedication

  To Harper Sloan

  Thank you for allowing me to use Maddox as a small way to honor how much I love you. Your words inspire me and allow me to escape to a world I am homesick for when the story is finished.

  Prologue

  “Hey, is this where I’m supposed to be?” A tall, blond walks into the room and instantly, I’m struck by his heartbreak. His voice is quiet and his eyes are swollen. “I’m Max.”

  I stand and shake his hand. He’s so tall and his hand swallows mine. “Hi Max, I’m Rachel. Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable.”

  The label hired me to be the grief counselor for the band after the news of Della’s death broke last night. Before I knew it, I was being picked up by a limo and taken to the home of Max Callum, drummer for Liquid Regret. I set up in the sitting room of the guest bedroom. I wasn’t sure where they’d be most comfortable and I didn’t want to be in the way when they arrived home.

  He throws his large frame onto the couch and pulls a pillow to his chest. He hugs it close and his eyes fill with unshed tears.

  “Max, you’re safe here. You only need to talk to me when you’re ready. I’m here to try to help you and if you just want to lie here for a while, that’s ok too.” My voice is calm and he relaxes.

  “I don’t know what to say.” His voice cracks. He hugs the pillow tighter. He’s the first one I’ve spoken to and if he’s this devastated, I’m worried about how I’ll handle Harley.

  “This must be so hard. It’s a terrible loss. Maybe it will help if you tell me a little about Della.”

  The first tear spills down his cheek. He stares at the ceiling. “She was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was the glue that held us together. She pretty much found all of us and put us together and made us into this family. What are we going to do without her?”

  I reach out and touch his arm. He doesn’t flinch away. His skin is warm and welcoming. I leave my hand there because it seems to soothe him. “She sounds like a special woman.”

  “I loved her. I’ve never said that out loud. The woman I love is dead.” He sobs and my heart breaks for him. I knew this assignment was going to be difficult but seeing him break pulls at my heart.

  “Do you want to tell me more about her?” His fingers let go of the pillow and cover mine. The spark is instant for me and I have to remind myself that he’s a patient. I cannot get emotionally involved in this case.

  He turns his head and looks at me. His blue eyes are haunted. He’s silent for a minute and then a deep breath. “I’m terrified Harley won’t survive this. I’m scared he’ll start drinking and we’ll lose him too. How do you lose the thing you love most and still go on?”

  “It sounds to me like you’ve lost what you love most as well. I admire you for thinking about Harley but I feel like we need to deal with your loss too. She may not have been your wife but your feelings were genuine. I want to try to work through those.” He looks back at the ceiling as my words sink in.

  “I’m going to go on because I promised Della I would. I think she knew. Somewhere, deep down, I think she knew something was going to happen. She made me promise her that I’d take care of Harley. I have to honor that promise. I have to live for her.” His voice is defeated.

  “You also need to live for you, Max. You won’t be any good to Harley if you aren’t healing. Let me help you do that.”

  He sits up and faces me. His head drops to his hands and he lets me see his pain. His shoulders shake as he cries silent tears in front of me.

  “I’m not going to make it.” His eyes meet mine and I can’t control my emotions. I cry with him, holding his hand, knowing this beautiful, broken man is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “Yes, you will. And I’ll be right by your side.”

  Chapter 1

  I can’t breathe. I can feel everything going dark. My arm stings from the needle. I can’t move my legs. This is the time I won’t wake up. I can tell I’m dreaming but I can’t find my way out of the darkness. Wake up, Max. I flinch and yell as his hand touches me.

  A voice that isn’t familiar is calling my name. His hands are rough as he shakes me. I’m not afraid, even though it’s a stranger. Anyone is better than who shares this dream with me. He yells for me again and I jump.

  I try to hold onto the voice. It’s my only tether to the real world. Keep talking. Don’t leave me here alone. I fight to open my eyes. A hand slaps my cheek and I bolt upright in my bed.

  I’m covered in sweat. It’s the third night in a row that my memories have haunted me. That fucking phone call from my piece of shit father blew every ounce of progress I’d made in healing completely out of the water. My sheets are tangled around my legs and my knuckles are white. I can’t keep this up. I’m scared to go to sleep. I’m a grown man and suddenly, I’m afraid of the dark.

  I look into the eyes of the giant that they’ve hired to be my bodyguard this week. The dude is huge. You can tell he’s seen some shit in his days and there’s no way in hell I’d ever pick a fight with him. I’m well over six feet but this guy is a monster. Maddox Locke. Even the name screams bad ass. There’s only one thing I know for sure. This week, no one will fuck with me.

  Why the upgrade in security? Seems that daddy dearest is looking for his golden boy to come home. Senator Benjamin Maxwell, the perfect attorney, turned judge, turned senator, is setting his sights on Vice President. Seems presidential candidates don’t like to have any skeletons in their closets. Laughable, really. What they did to me is the biggest skeleton you’ll ever see.

  I left that life behind years ago and I’m not going back. I’m not even ready to revisit the horror of my childhood. I know he’s terrified that I’ll spill their dirty laundry all over the media. What he fails to realize is that I’d be airing mine too. There are two people in my life now that know what happened; and neither of them knows the whole truth. Harley and Della rescued me all those years ago and Rachel pulled me out a little further during our mandated grief counseling after Della’s death. I’ve told them what I’ve had to. The scars on the surface have done some healing. The deep wounds that changed me forever will never scab over.

  I was in high school when I finally ran. I changed my name, my hair color, everything. I hid from the world, keeping in touch with only one person. My uncle, Kent, had found me on the floor of our pool house and had done everything he could to get me to stay. I couldn’t break up the perfect family image that we had going. My refusal surprised him. I was walking away from quite a bit. Keeping me quiet was priority number one. I was a kid on the street with a pocket ful
l of cash every month. It was fucked up. I can see that now. But living in fear can make people do some pretty messed up things. Kent was my salvation and set me up with a trust attorney who would continue to support me financially. We met once a month for coffee and he’d hand me an envelope full of cash. He never asked any questions or gave me any shit about going back. He never tried to force me to go home. He knew what a piece of shit my father was and it made us bond like family. The story was that I’d been shipped away to military school to further my leadership skills. As long as I stayed hidden, the money kept coming.

  As long as the money kept coming, I was able to provide for Harley and Della. They never knew it was me but I couldn’t spend the money on myself. I would drop cash near their car so they’d find it. I’d pay people to walk by and throw large bills into his guitar case when he was playing in the park. I even had the attorney draw up a fake will for a long, lost aunt, leaving a small inheritance to Della.

  Della and Harley were my first real family. Being a couple years younger than the rest of the misfits that had been taken in my Della, I felt like I had a support system I’d never had at ‘home’. Damien was already living with the two of them the day Dell brought me home. I’d been in the park writing music under a broken umbrella and Della found me, soaked and freezing. She dragged me home and gave me a hot meal and forced me to play the song for Harley and Damien.

  That was the minute that my life changed. Harley picked up his guitar and played with me. Damien heard it once and was able to throw lyrics together to join us. Hearing my song being played by men that were incredibly talented was the first moment of clarity I’d ever had. I struggled through the song, playing my out of tune guitar before admitting that I was a fan of percussion. It wasn’t long before I came home to find a drum set that Harley won in a poker game. It was then that I realized I’d lay down my life for Della and these men.

  My family had always said that music was a waste of time. I’d been groomed to be the next attorney in a long line of Maxwell attorneys. I’d been preparing my whole life for that degree from the Ivy League college that would hang on my wall in some high priced law firm. I’d studied the ins and outs of politics and was quizzed relentlessly through family dinners. One wrong answer and it meant hours of studying for the next mind fuck. Hours sitting in the study in the cold palace in Newport that I used to call home.

  Newport, California. Home of the rich and the plastic. The place that held the bullshit that changed my life. The thought of it makes my stomach churn. I haven’t told the guys where I came from. Honestly, who’s ever heard of a homeless kid from Newport? Poor Max, the orphan son of the next vice president. The kid on the street whose net worth was more than that of a small country. No. It’s better if that piece of the puzzle stays lost.

  Which brings me full circle to my bastard father who somehow got my phone number. Benjamin Maxwell has the power to ruin me, yet again. How do I explain to the men who have been my family for the last decade that daddy dearest has a fortune and I had the ability to change our lives and didn’t? How do I tell them that despite the fact we struggled to eat and keep a roof over our heads, I could have made a phone call? I’m not sure they’d ever forgive me. We faced some hard times together.

  “Fuck.” I drag myself into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. Maddox just grunts at me on the way by. For the first time in forever, I feel physically safe.

  I can’t keep living like this. I refuse to get lost in the darkness of these nightmares again. I have two choices. I stay and fight it, my band of brothers by my side, and face the music once and for all. Or, I pack up and move on to the next chapter in my life, leaving everything I care about behind. Becoming a ghost until the next person from my past finds me again. The choice is mine and I need to make it.

  Chapter 2

  I can’t help but jump out of bed and race into the shower. Christmas morning makes me turn back into a child. It doesn’t matter how old I get. It’s my favorite time of the year. I over shop, I spend way too much time wrapping, I spend more money than any single person should ever spend. I can’t help myself. I have five nephews and despite the fact that my brother is an attorney and could give them the world, I just can’t resist buying them everything they want. The man at the post office hates me. It’s the same story every year. I stand in line, wait my turn, and then push a pile of boxes up to the counter with a smile on my face. He sneers, I giggle and babble on about the snow they already have in Wisconsin or about the weather in LA. But every year before I leave the counter, I slide a Christmas card to him and this year, I swear he smiled.

  It’s tough being away from my family at the holidays, but I can’t imagine braving the cold after being in the sun for the last few years. I’ve tried to convince them to come visit but they’re right. It’s difficult to pack up an entire family and travel over the school break. It will be different when I have a family. I can’t help but snort. It’s possible that ship has sailed. At almost thirty, the odds of having a large family are not in my favor. Hell, I remember when my bra didn’t require a wire and my ass didn’t require a few extra squats before putting on a bathing suit. If I didn’t meet my Prince Charming then, what makes me think I can meet him now? Let’s hope when my prince does finally arrive, he’s a little far sighted. Gravity is a bitch.

  So is fate. A few months ago, I was hired by Joshua Seymour to provide grief counseling for the band, Liquid Regret. They lost someone they loved in such a brutal way that I wasn’t sure I would even be able to help them. Talking with Harley after losing his wife was like running head first into a brick wall, over and over and over again. He was destroyed and I wanted to break every rule in the book and just hold him and cry with him. As a psychiatrist, I’m supposed to remain calm and help my clients through whatever obstacle they’re facing. But, these men are different. Even in their darkest time, they welcomed me into their family. They were warm and loving and they trusted me without question. I fell in love with their spirits and their faith. I knew from the second I met them that they would change my life.

  Somewhere along the way, I started doubting my ability to do my job. Sure, they were all learning to deal with their loss and Harley even gave in and let me admit him to a rehab facility after realizing he couldn’t stop drinking on his own. But Max is a game changer and I don’t know what to do with that. The first time I saw him, I may have swooned. I’ll never admit that to anyone but it’s possible it actually happened. He’s tall and blond and his aqua eyes look straight through me. At first, He was closed off and devastated after losing the woman that he had fallen in love with so many years before. He’d never been able to act on those feelings because she was eventually married to his best friend. We spent the first month just learning to deal with the reality that he would never be able to tell her how he felt. He had been her best friend and most of his feelings had been wrapped up in playing that role. Not only did he lose the woman he loved, he lost his best friend.

  I try to be professional but every session makes me want to cry. This brilliant, mysterious man was so broken when she was first killed. He has always been open to dealing with any part of his present but the minute I ask about his past, the door slams shut. He keeps a smile on his face and his carefree attitude stays but his eyes go dark and the joy he usually carries there disappears. As his therapist, this scares me.

  What scares me even more? The fact that when he’s laughing and having fun, a part of my brain goes numb and I want to crawl into his lap and own his mouth. Own it! My desire to kiss him is stronger than anything I have ever felt. I want to feel his full lips pressed against mine and I want to make sure that he will never be able to kiss another woman without thinking about me. And there it is. The only thing that makes being their therapist impossible. I need to learn to quit dreaming about his lips or resign from the first job that has ever completely fulfilled me. It’s a constant battle between my brain and my heart. I know what I need to do. It’s just not wh
at I want to do.

  My cell phone buzzes and pulls me from my daydream. I smile when I see Harley’s name. I’ve missed him. These weeks at rehab have been exactly what he needed. But even that doesn’t make his absence any easier on us. He’s the heart of the band. If it hadn’t been for Della and Harley, Liquid Regret wouldn’t exist. If it hadn’t been for Liquid Regret, I’d never know Max. Even thinking his name makes my heart hammer. I’m so screwed.

  Home and heading to Max’s. Don’t tell the guys. See you soon.

  I clap. He’s home and life can finally settle into a routine. This will be the hard part. This is the true test of strength and character. Home. Where it all began and later, where it all ended. Home. Where Oksana and Lex took what mattered most and while they are still breathing, Della’s gone. Home. A place that may not ever feel safe for him.

  I run around my room trying to decide what to wear. Therapy sessions are easy. I’m in some sort of boring, librarian style business suit. There’s no second guessing what looks good and what looks like I’m trying too hard. There’s no question about how much make up I should wear or if I should spritz on some perfume. Nope. During the week, I’m just your basic girl next door. Rachel, boring and quirky, goodie two shoes, trying to solve the world’s problems. Yep, that’s me. Virginal and wholesome. Little do they know.

  I grab my light weight, off the shoulder sweater. Pulling on a pair of skinny jeans, I look in the mirror. Casual with a touch of sex appeal. I pull my hair into a loose pony tail and dab on some lip gloss before I’m jumping in my car and speeding off for Christmas morning with the guys. Feeling like a family member is dangerous. I’m teetering on the line of what’s acceptable and what crosses into being too friendly with my clients. I justify it by telling myself that Harley will need me as he transitions home. I repeat it in my head until I almost believe it.