Sin and Redemption

by Cora Reilly

When I emerged from the bathroom, Maximus was only in his jeans. The sight of his upper body let heat rise into my cheeks. My eyes registered the outline of a new tattoo on his back. The only tattoo there so far was a paw on one shoulder and a continuation of the forest scene on the other. Now, there was an outline of an oak tree, our oak tree, and a snake wrapped around the roots of the tree, its head rising all the way up to the crown.

It wasn’t filled out yet, but it would be an impressive tattoo once it was done. “Why the snake?” I asked. Maximus turned to me. “The snake symbolizes my sins and the tree the consequences of them. It’s a warning and a memorial.”

“I told you I don’t blame you.” Maximus gave me a tight smile. “I know. And I’ll still spend the rest of my lif...

I wondered how I could free him of his guilt. I blamed the men who captured us, our world, the Bratva, but not Maximus. His guilt would stop us from moving on. But who was I to tell him about letting go of his guilt when I still blamed myself for losing our baby? Guilt was toxic; it was insistent and difficult to get rid of.

“I need to get French nails again,” I said, then flushed because it was such a stupid thing to say, vain and completely irrelevant to Maximus. He sank down on the bed beside me with a deep frown. “Aren’t there any good nail places around here?” I blinked at him, then burst out laughing. “They’re not from France. It’s just the style.” He chuckled. “Ahh. I don’t know much about makeup and that stuff.”

“We could try if tonight goes well and you don’t steal my blanket or kick me?” I gave him a hesitant smile. His lips pulled into a small smile. Cautious hope brightened his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he said in that low, deep voice that enthralled me more and more every day.

I touched Maximus’s shoulder, and as expected, he woke immediately. He sat up abruptly, causing my hand to slip off his shoulder. I turned on the lamp. Squinting against the sudden brightness, I watched Maximus’s face. He was sweaty, and a deep frown pulled at his brows. “You had a nightmare.” “I did.”

Until the thing with Jabba happened. After that, nightmares are part of my nights.” I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry. You always seem so tough, so I keep forgetting that you have to deal with your own trauma from that day.”

Maximus curled his fingers around my hand. “You don’t have to worry about me, alright? My trauma, or whatever you want to call it, is nothing. Definitely nothing I want you to waste your energy on. I want you to get past your trauma. That’s all that matters to me.”

“That’s not how it should be in a marriage. I want you to know that your feelings matter to me, and I want to take them into consideration. I know I haven’t done a good job of that in the past.”

“Does waking you up with my nightmare equal stealing your blanket?” “No. I still want to share a bed with you at home.”

She turned the wheel on and slapped a piece of clay on the rotating disk before wetting her hands with water. She positioned herself on the small stool in front of the wheel and began to touch the clay. Soon, it transformed into a tower, then she pressed it down again and let it rise to an even higher creation that reminded me a bit of a cock. An image my brain really didn’t need, especially as I watched Sara stroke and rub the damn thing.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come here with you.” Maximus paused with a thoughtful look. He put the axe down and came over to me. He gently touched my cheek. “I don’t blame you, nor do my parents. It was understandable after what happened. And it’s not too late. We still have our whole life ahead of us.”

“That’s really a good thing because there’s boiling bone broth inside that thermos. I could have burned you. Instead of being a good wife by taking care of my husband, I would have scalded you.” “I don’t expect you to serve me food and drinks to be a good wife. I’m glad to have you as my wife, even if you throw burning liquid at me.”

“They were hard, yes,” he murmured. His amber eyes were distant, thoughtful. I loved the sound of his deep voice. It always reverberated in the depth of my belly, today in particular. “My father always says good things take work. I’m willing to put the work in.”

I’d focused on having a baby, on creating my family by bringing new life into this world, but Maximus and I were husband and wife. We were the root of that family. We needed to build a foundation for our kids. I needed to make more of an effort if that was ever supposed to happen.

I scanned his body, covered by a fine sheen of dirt that clung to his sweaty skin. I wanted to be with Maximus, and not for any other reason than to feel his touch. “What’s wrong? I can see that something’s bothering you.” I was bothered by the sight of him so manly and unhinged. It did things to my body that I didn’t understand.

“I’m a bit worried, but not for the reason you might think.” His confused expression made it clear he didn’t understand what I meant. “I’m not worried about having to sleep with you again if I’m not pregnant this time because I wouldn’t mind doing it even if it’s not about making a baby.” The words rushed out of my mouth so fast I wasn’t sure he understood anything. Yet after a moment of utter confusion, realization set in, and the look on his face changed to desire and something primal that made my core clench.

“Actually…phew.” I blew out a breath, embarrassed to say what I felt. “Watching you like this”—I motioned at his half-naked state and the axe behind him—“has made me feel quite…umm.” I gave a nervous giggle, my face bursting with heat.

He held out his hand, and when I took it, he tugged me along deeper into the woods until his parents’ house was no longer visible. He pressed me against a massive tree and cupped my cheek. “Let me eat you here,” he rasped. My eyes widened. “Someone could walk up on us.” “Bacon,” he called, and his dog came running. “Sit and guard.” The dog sank to the ground and actually began to scan the surroundings.

“You can’t breathe properly beneath all the fabric.” The knowing smile that curled his lips made it clear he knew that wasn’t why I’d lifted my skirt.

After a brief mental pep talk, I grabbed his jeans button, then peered up at him for permission. He laughed sardonically. “You don’t have to ask. Trust me. Whatever you have in mind, I want it too.” I laughed. “Really? Maybe my mind is a strange place. I’ve read many of Isa’s books.”

Maximus wasn’t a pretty man, not like those posh boy-men I saw in college. He was a rough diamond—manly attractiveness with hard edges.

slowly, Maximus sank down with me in his arms. He pulled me into his lap as he sat on the ground, cupping my neck and bringing our foreheads together. We stayed like that, breathing and relishing each other’s closeness. This was more than enjoying ourselves and finding pleasure in each other. I felt like we were slowly ripping down the barriers the past had built around and between us.

She peered up at me, then cuddled up to me with a hesitant smile. It felt good to feel her this close. After months, hell, more than a year, of imagining this exact moment, it was finally here, and it felt perfect. We fell asleep like that.

Weren’t nightmares a way for your subconscious to work through the experiences of the day? Had today triggered her? What if this threw us back? I wasn’t sure why her nightmare fucked with my brain this much, but I simply didn’t want to lose today’s connection.

“Your health is the top priority.” “No,” I muttered. “You are and will always be my top priority, Sara.”

I reached for her, then hesitated, wondering if the reality of having me here would be better than her nightmare. I shoved that thought aside. Sara and I had come a long way from the start of our marriage. I wouldn’t allow nightmares to ruin everything.

“The worst nightmares are always…” I didn’t want to know, but I would never stop her from sharing what bothered her. “When it’s Jabba on top of me. He’s like a phantom of my past that I can’t shake off.” I peered down at her crown of hair. “He’s dead.” “I know. But my brain doesn’t care. In here”—she tapped her temple—“he’s still very much alive.” She peered up. “You aren’t the reason for my nightmares, just so you know, okay? It’s always Jabba taking center stage.”