It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)

“He played her,” I clarified.

Max nodded. “She never told me the whole story, but it doesn’t take much to imagine. She was devastated for months after he tossed her aside. Then she found out he’d slept with three of her friends, too.”

What an asshole. By my calculations, Patricio was three years older than Mabel, Max’s sister.

I inhaled through my nostrils, trying to digest it. So this was it—the reason Max hated Patricio. Still, it didn’t explain why Patricio hated Max back.

“What did you do to him?” I asked.

Max took a long time to answer while he stared at something that stretched beyond present time. “I almost killed him.”

I pulled back my head. I had not expected that.

Max nodded. “I found Patricio and beat him within an inch of his life. If it weren’t for my family’s money and their ability to settle things quietly, I probably would’ve gone to the French equivalent of juvie.”

I almost had no words. It was one thing to play the protective brother, but it was another to almost kill someone.

“Keep in mind,” he said, “I was only fifteen at the time and my mother had systematically stripped all joy from my life. My sister was the only thing I cared about.”

My stomach churned again. It was so very strange to think of this beautiful, strong, confident man growing up in such a mentally fucked-up home. To his credit, he’d taken that pain and suffering and turned himself into something extraordinary.

“I’m so sorry, Max.”

He laughed. “You had your heart broken by that piece of shit and you’re telling me you’re sorry?”

I shrugged. “I’ll be okay. I’ve survived worse.” I looked at him so he’d know what I meant.

“I’m sorry, Lily. I shouldn’t have waited so long.”

He referred to the six months. “Then why did you?”

He scratched his scruffy chin. “I realized that I’d built Cole Cosmetics out of sheer hatred for my mother. Which made me angry all over again. I thought I was free of her and was my own man, when really my entire world still revolved around that monster. Once I saw that, I needed time.”

“To do what? More therapy?” I felt a spark of jealousy, picturing what that therapy might involve. Or more accurately stated, who it might involve. Had he found some other woman to spend his nights with to continue what he’d started with me? Had he fucked her, too?

He paused for a long moment. “It’s a very long story—and now is not the right time to share it.” He gave my knee a pat and then stood. “I’m going to order food and ask them to bring you clothes from their shop.”

He walked over to the phone on the end table and dialed. Meanwhile, I stared at his back and broad shoulders. I couldn’t help feel the need to touch him. And rub my naked body all over him. With his penis inside me. All right, sex. I wanted comfort sex.

“I’m going to take a shower.” A cold one. I got off the couch and scurried to the bathroom. I closed the door and pressed my back to it, wincing. Honestly, I needed to get out of here, maybe go to my brother’s apartment. My parents’ house was not an option because my mother and father were serial worriers. They freaked out whenever I wasn’t smiling. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong. What happened?” My mother’s face would turn pale and my father’s would go red. I suspected their overprotective, worrying nature stemmed from feeling guilty that they’d brought me into the world with an extremely ugly face, making life a bit hard. As for my brother, he was born with a rare spinal deformation and was wheelchair bound, which still evoked heavy doses of daily worrying from my parents despite his very good health, intelligence, and capable body. He was Mr. Independence.

I slipped my cell from my pocket and dialed my brother to leave a message. He’d be at work right now, teaching math over at the elementary school. “Hey, John. It’s me. Can you leave your house key for me at your front office? I need a place to hide today—a long and wonderful story I’ll share with you later. Love you, bye.” I hung up, feeling kind of green.

Okay. The orange juice had not been such a great idea. I scrambled for the toilet and threw up.

“Lily?” Max’s voice projected from the now open doorway.

“Go away!” I swiped my hand through the air to shoo him out.

“This is the third time I’ve seen you get sick since I got here.”

I groaned with my head over the toilet. “Go…I’m fine.”

Max grumbled and left the bathroom. I pried myself from the floor, shut the door again, and started the shower, taking time to use the entire miniature bottle of complimentary mouthwash to remove the foul taste.

After rinsing the sweat from my morning run, my mind settled back to Patricio. I needed to call him. I needed to tell him what a piece of lying garbage he was. He had to know by now that I’d seen the photos.

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