Author's Note: Please Read. My first story! :]
Anything familiar belongs to James Patterson.
One of you is a traitor, it read. One of the flock has gone bad.
Fang gently shut the laptop. By now, masking his emotions was completely involuntary – he acted like he always did. An occasional smile here or there, acting like the elder brother figure of the flock. It wasn't much a problem to hide his potential betrayal to the only real family he had ever known – the problem was dealing with the actual jabs of pain that they caused him. Night after night, he pictured the day that they would figure out about his backstabbing ways – the way Iggy would feel doubly betrayed, first by his parents and now by his brother, the way Gasman's impertinence would break through and he'd have trouble restraining himself. The way Nudge's optimistically happy eyes would glare at him, the way Angel, so innocent, would vow to hate him for the rest of her life. And the way Max's sparkling, cynical brown eyes would be a slideshow of emotions – hurt, pain, betrayal, loss, and finally settling with pure, unfiltered hatred.
Max, Max, Max, his heart crooned. His mind knew what he had to do – stick with the enemy. But his heart was an entirely different matter. It was ripped in two. He saw the way Max's eyes sparkled when he gave her one of his rare smiles, the hesitance of her touch – he wasn't completely unobservant. Fang didn't WANT to cause her all that unnecessary pain. But he wanted to find his parents. For once, he wanted to be selfish and do what he wanted. All those years of being stuck with the flock, having to protect them, always sacrificing something for them. It wasn't fair. Iggy and Gazzy got their fair share of fun… with explosives. Angel had Max, and Nudge took consolation in anything with talking, clothes and controlling her hair. But Fang, he was the outsider of the group. The outsider in an outcast group, he thought bitterly. Of course there would be no place for him in the world.
Jeb Batchelder. Typical of him to pinpoint that weakness and tempt him. And poor Fang. No wonder he cracked, what with the combined torture of the images that flashed beneath his eyes, the images that displayed what rewards awaited him after a simple betrayal.
Fang rocked back and forth unceremoniously on the tree branch, so unlike him. It was still torture now, recalling the events and what would happen. Near him, Max stirred slightly, and whispered down to him. "Fang, are you alright?" She lightly landed next to him on the tree branch, her messy chestnut hair streaming around her in the night air. Fang studied her every feature, her intelligent eyes, her majestic wings, her sweet and caring persona that could just as easily become venomous and witty. And suddenly, without thinking, without hesitating, he leaned over and pressed his lips gently to hers.