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They have always had more a business partnership than a father and a son relationship with Jos, but when they understood the circle was leaking, and that ended with Max in handcuffs, he didn’t spend even a second worrying about anything. His old man would get him out. Also the 25 year sentence only got a polite nod.
He had never counted in Charles Leclerc though, or his own will to burn the whole world down for this man. They drifted towards each other, exchanging words and stories, Max’s presence ensuring that the others didn’t bother the man whose beauty was a danger to himself on the wrong side of the locks.
Max didn’t like Nikita Mazepin, or his pale eyes giving even a fleeting glance in Charles’ direction. Actually he didn’t like the Russian even thinking about Charles.
Being Jos Verstappen’s son meant that Max always had available favors to pull. His acquaintances always had acquaintances who worked in the right places, and were willing to do things for the right sum of money in cash. When Nikita was found dead in his bunk, most people didn't consider the possibility that Max could have some knowledge of the situation.
Only Charles was watching him with too knowing green eyes, and raising one eyebrow, when Max put his tray down, giving a disgusted look at what what they were calling a proper lunch in that place.
”What?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know.
”Nothing, nothing at all. You like protecting me, don’t you?”
Those green eyes and deep dimples had been the terrible, beautiful fate of so many powerful, wealthy men. Charles Leclerc wasn’t a safe person to be around, not exactly, but that was one of the reasons why Max was breathing freely near him. They could both let their dark sides shine through.
When the first explosion sounds outside the west wing, Max doesn’t even flinch. He had been informed about the date by Isack who had been visiting him, looking boyish and innocent and pretending to be Max’s cousin.
He puts a hand on Charles’ forearm, squeezing steadily. ”Come with me?”
Charles has no idea what Max is offering, but he trusts Max more than all the other people together in this building. ”Yeah, of course.”
Charles follows quickly, like his shadow. They meet Isack in the hallway. He gives them a grin like it would be a walk in a park, not a prison escape, and doesn’t ask questions, when he is asked to arm Charles too.
”You can shoot, right?”
”Bit late to ask that, but yes, I can shoot.”
They are ready to kill their way out, but no serious need for that. Most of the guards are interested to go back home tonight, not die for the system. Max is the first person outside the gates, Charles and Isack following right at his heels, and a Mercedes is waiting, engine roaring, when Isack has slammed the back door shut.
They travel through the night, stopping in one of the safe houses somewhere in French countryside. Two days spent resting and when the night falls, they are going again. Another house in Switzerland and Max’s shoulders relax. No close neighbors, but good roads leading away from the house. They have a a strong supply of groceries, and Daniel and Isack nearby and capable of getting more. He could keep Charles safe and comfortable here.
”Who are you then? We were supposed to get only Max out.” Daniel wipes his forehead, watching Charles curiously. Charles glances at Max before saying anything and Max nods. Daniel is his second in command, as safe person as Max.
”Charles Leclerc.”
”That Charles Leclerc?”
Yes, exactly. The seductive, lethal Charles Leclerc who likes diamonds and other pretty, expensive things, and had left a line of dead millionaire men behind himself.
The team might have use for Charles if he is interested to join.
Charles bursts into a laughter that just doesn’t seem to stop. It’s the hysteria, suddenly having his life back. Max doesn’t worry, just lets him ride it out, and goes to get some water for him to drink from the kitchenette.
”Thank you.” He is drinking slowly, reminding his body to calm down.
The plan is to lie low for a while, and get back into the organization.
”Can I stay with you guys?” They had happily burned their prison clothes, and Charles is elegant on the sofa even in Max’s big hoodie. He is in control, and Max doesn’t doubt his ability to find his spot in the world that’s again open to him. But he’d really like to share that spot with Charles.
Max would buy him a mansion if the man asked nicely, but maybe Charles doesn’t understand that yet.
”Can I kiss you?” Max asks, bringing up his deepest wish from the last weeks. Daniel makes a sound, a mix of annoyance and fond amusement, and heads out of the room, giving them an illusion of privacy.
”I have only been waiting for that.” He sits down opposite Charles who waits calmly. He tastes of gunpowder, stale coffee, and something Max doesn’t quite catch, but wants to learn to know.
”You are so beautiful.” Charles has definitely heard that about ten thousand times before, but he just puts light fingertips on Max’s cheek, looking at him in a way he has never been looked at before.
”You can of course stay. Forever if you’d like.”