Maverick POV
I was seething.
I never planned to come back to Seattle. Not this soon. But sometimes, certain things cannot be ignored.
My father and brother had crossed the damn line.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my teeth aching from how hard my jaw was clenched.
My phone buzzed in the cup holder, but I didn't look at it. I knew it was a text from Dwayne, my business partner and best friend, and the only person I trusted in this godforsaken city. He probably wanted to know if I'd touched down yet.
We hadn't seen each other in a few years, mostly because I was taking care of things in the Netherlands, but partly because the two people I hated and distrusted the most lived here, and I'd be damned before I breathed in the same air as them.
But I was back. I may have let all the other fuck ups and stunts they pulled roll off my back, but not this. I'd made my decision the moment I found out what my family had done. They'd thought they could take what was mine and get away with it. They were wrong.
I was going to burn it all to the ground.
I pressed harder on the gas, my pulse hammering. Dwayne had warned me to think before making any moves, but I wasn't known to be a very patient man.
My phone buzzed again and I looked at the cup holder. Dwayne. Again.
I looked back up, my stomach dropping. "Shit."
I saw the headlights coming towards me too late, swerving at exactly the last second, but not quick enough to avoid the collision.
My body jerked forward as my car collided with another, the windshield cracking and nearly caving in, and then there was silence.
For a moment, all I could do was breathe, relieved that I was okay. But then, wondering about the person who had veered into my lane, I opened the door and stepped out.
It was dark, our headlights the only form of illumination, but I could still make out the figure behind the wheel. It was a woman.
I approached the car slowly, prepared to ask some questions, but still a bit wary in case something had happened to her.
And then she let out the most terrifying scream I had ever heard in my life.
I hurried to her car, trying and failing to open the door. It was locked. The woman turned to look at me, tears streaming from her eyes as she sobbed loudly.
I rapped my knuckles against the window.
"Are you okay?" I asked. Though I wasn't sure she heard me, she opened the door.
"I'm so sorry," came her voice, shaky and raspy, probably because she had been crying and screaming.
"No worries," I replied. "Are you hurt? I heard you scream." I studied her form, checking for any blood stains or injuries with my eyes, and that was when I noticed that she was wearing scrubs.
She worked in the medical field.
"Um, yeah, I-I mean no, I'm n-not hurt. Not physically at least. I just-I'm sorry I hit your car," she stuttered, refusing to meet my gaze.
"Your car's hurt too," I said, keeping my voice as low and gentle as I could. I wasn't going to make this woman more anxious than she already seemed. "Do you have insurance for that?"
She looked up at me, lips quivering, and something about the expression on her face hit me like a sucker punch to the gut.
She was beautiful. So damn beautiful, but she had been hurt. Tortured. Scorned.
A broken soul, that's what she was.
"Yeah, I, um, I'm really sorry I hit your car. If you want me to pay for that, I'll—"
"Don't worry about it," I replied and she looked away, wringing her hands in her lap.
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I'll um, I'll leave, then. I'm so sorry." She started to close the door.
"Wait." I wasn't a good man. I had never claimed to be one. But walking away from this woman seemed like the worst mistake I could ever make in my life.
"You can't drive in this state. Why don't you let me drop you off? I can call the tow truck company to come pick your car up so they can assess the damage."
She hesitated before peering at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. She was wary, and rightfully so. It was late into the night, and I was someone she didn't know.
She opened her mouth, and just as I thought she was going to decline my offer, she said, "Okay." She stepped out of the car, her full height only reaching up to my chest, and followed me to my car.
As I held the passenger door open for her, I made a mental note to call the tow truck company and shut the door when she was seated.
"So," I asked once I fastened my seatbelt. "Where to?"
Something about the way she hesitated made me feel a slight twinge of regret for even offering to take her home or wherever she was going.
"I-I don't know. I never really… thought about that." She faced forward as she spoke, and I noticed from the side how neatly and tightly her hair was tied into a bun. That had to be hurting her scalp. Even I knew that.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Where do you live? Or work?" I added, taking the scrubs she was putting on into consideration. However, something told me that this woman wasn't on her way to work.
Her breath hitched. "I can't go back there. I-I can't…" she trailed off, taking deep breaths.
My jaw clenched as I combed my fingers through my hair. Whatever happened to this woman was recent. Very recent. And it looked like I was going to be the one to take care of her.
Shit.
"I'm sorry, I just…" her voice was thick with emotion, and as she looked at me, I felt my heart break into a thousand tiny pieces. "Can we just… go to your place instead? I'm not a thief, I promise. It'll just be for tonight."
My place? Why did this woman want to go home with a stranger? What if I was a fucking serial killer?
"It's not me who should be worried," I said after a few seconds of silence. "What's your name?"
She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip, and when she spoke, I knew she was lying. "Mia. What's yours?"
"John." I lied. If she wasn't going to tell me her real name, neither was I.
'Mia' scoffed like she knew I was telling a lie as well.
As I drove to my house, Mia stared out the window. A couple of times, I heard her whisper words I couldn't hear to herself. I couldn't blame her. Even I needed to berate myself for picking up a strange woman at night.
I was just glad that Dwayne had hired people to get my house set up for me. I hadn't been there in years.
I pulled into the garage, stepped out of my car, and before I could turn to check on Mia, the passenger door slammed shut.
I walked into my house, Mia not far behind, and I immediately headed for one of the downstairs guestrooms. Everywhere was silent except for the soft sounds of her feet against the ground. And mine too, of course.
"Think you'll be comfortable here?" I asked as I turned the lights on. Her eyes were wide as she nodded.
"Yeah. Thank you."
"Great," I exhaled. "Everything you need to freshen up should be in the bathroom. "I'll be back with some water for you to drink, yeah?"
Mia nodded again. "Okay."
God, she was so beautiful.
I went upstairs to my room to drop my luggage and freshen up as well. And I was in the middle of putting on a T-shirt when I realized that I didn't give her anything to wear.
So, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from my closet, I hurried down the stairs, heading towards her room.
I knocked twice, and when I didn't receive a response, I twisted the knob.
And I fully regret not waiting for a response.
Mia was just stepping out of the bathroom, naked and dripping wet.