Free The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3) by Mary Smith

up.
    “I, for one, am looking forward to our girls’ day on Friday.” Mom beams.
    Maxima has won over my parents. Now, I need to man up and tell her the truth.

Chapter Five
    Maxima

     
    I sit across from Jackson’s desk. He’s staring at me and I at him. If he thinks I’m backing down, he’s the one who’s going to be wrong.
    “Fine. Just go ahead and take tomorrow off, but I’m seriously seeing a decline in your work.”
    I shake my head. “Jackson, I have more clients than anyone else in this office. I handle my workload just fine.” Say what you want, but my work ethic is solid tight.
    “You did,” he corrects me. “I’ve been sending our new clients to other staff.”
    “Why?” I gasp. I’ve always gotten first crack at new clients.
    “Because you’re not the shark you once were, Maxima. Your mind is elsewhere.”
    I narrow my glare at him, but I don’t utter another word. I simply get up and head toward the door. Before I reach it, Jackson blocks it, and my heart starts pounding.
    I can’t be blocked in a room. He always blocked me in.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” Jackson apologizes.
    His words barely register with me because my ears are ringing. My heart is hammering, and I’m beginning to sweat. No, I forbid myself to have a panic attack here.
    “Fine,” I manage to say.
    He nods and opens the door for me.
    I run to my office and grab everything before racing to my car. I drive home in record time and see Remington’s car, but not his parents. They all must be out.
    I bolt into the house and straight into the bedroom, only to find Remington stretched out on the bed with his iPad.
    “Hey, you’re home early.” He sits up. “Mom and Dad picked Arabella up.” He puts down his tablet. “I thought—” he stops when he looks me over. “Maxima, what’s wrong?”
    The panic attack is coming on stronger, like a building tsunami heading for a small island. The breathing exercises aren’t helping. I need something stronger. I need…
    Remington.
    I drop all my things and practically jump into his arms. He catches me with ease as the tsunami hits the shore. I sob into his chest as the memories hit me.
    She always yelled at me. “What do you have that I don’t?” or “You better make him happy tonight.” It started at the age of six. Night after night, he would come into my room. Him pinning my wrist down, my screams, my pain, my tears are all echoing in my head.
    I had to get out of their house. I couldn’t stay. When I was sixteen, I found out about Boston College’s early scholarship program. I busted my ass all through school to keep my grades up and well above average. Boston College was my ticket out.
    When the news came to me that I’d gotten the scholarship, I was able to find jobs that paid cash so I could buy a plane ticket. Hell, I would have hitchhiked if I’d had to.
    My last night there, I packed a small bag, just a few clothes and my copy of Little Women , because it was my favorite book, and I always wanted to be strong like Jo.
    I counted down the hours, and with two hours left, I heard the front door slam. He was home. I prayed to God he would just pass out… instead he turned my door handle. The bile moved up my throat.
    When the door opened, everything stopped. He walked in with another man.
    “No,” I yelled. “No.”
    He yanked me across the bed, and the other held me down.
    I screamed as loud as I could until the other shoved himself into my mouth. She came into the room, and I pleaded with my eyes for her to stop them, but she just closed the door.
    The next hour of my life was the worst. They took turns, over and over, in every place one could image. The smell of blood and semen hung in the air.
    When they left my room, I could barely move. The bed covers were stained with my blood, tears, and their sweat. I threw up in the trashcan, picked up the clothes that had been torn off me, and clean myself up.
    After I changed into