With This Ring by Georgia Le Carre

Author:Georgia Le Carre [Le Carre, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Georgia Le Carre
Published: 2020-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty

Maxim

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnBT9uUYb1w

I came home to find her drunk… as a skunk in a beer barrel.

She was waiting on the stairs for me, and I noted the almost empty $58,000 bottle of Dalmore Highland Malt Scotch clutched in her hand. Well, at least she had taste.

I’d had one of the worst days, and I wasn’t looking forward to a tantrum from her tonight.

Pretending not to see her, I shut the door behind me and began to walk down the foyer towards my study.

“Maxim,” she yelled out, but I didn’t stop. I kept walking. Taking my phone from my pocket I was about to call Mariah to take care of her when she began to race towards me. For someone that inebriated she could move fast.

It was only instinct that caused me to turn my head and catch the glint of glass from the corner of my eye. I swerved just in time, and saved a nasty bump on my head. The bottle smashed against the wall, spilling its precious liquid and flinging sharp shards all over the place.

I looked at the disaster, my brows furrowed, then turned impatiently towards her. She really was too much.

“You’re fucking ruining my life,” she screamed as she flew towards me. “And that’s what you always do. You fucking ruin everything for everybody.”

She attacked me like a small but feral cat, nails extended, fur flying, teeth bared, legs kicking. I caught her clawed hands, but she only got even more crazed. I shook her to bring some sense back into her. When she threw her head backwards to try and somehow head butt my chest, I saw her reddened, swollen eyes. They were swimming with tears, and her cheeks were wet.

I knew what had happened. She had lost her friend and partner, but I’d assumed it was a temporary separation, and not too big a deal, but perhaps it was more serious than I’d thought.

I sighed. “Freya,” I called and she struggled to pull her hands out of my grip.

“Let me go! Let me fucking go, you animal!”

I let her go and she fell to the floor, landing on her ass.

“Ow …” she cried.

It made my heart hurt to see her like that.

“Fuck,” she cursed, her hands flailing around on the floor.

My heart lurched when I saw the broken glass pieces that surrounded her. She was going to fucking hurt herself. I went to her, but at my approach she immediately began to try to scramble up to her feet. I caught her in my arms and despite her swearing and thrashing, threw her over my shoulder and moved her away from the hazardous glass shards on the lounge floor.

I set her on her feet a distance away, and of course, she proceeded to attack me. Tonight she was out for blood. She fought with me with the techniques she’d been taught from her father’s best fighters and they were not a joke. She was too drunk to even stand properly, but she was more than a handful.

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