Welcome, readers!

I'm updating sooner than usual – what with an unexpectedly freer weekend, and the last chapter being posted at the beginning of the weekend.

Unfortunately, the next update will not occur till next weekend – my schedule blocks me, and not writers block this time.

I can't guarantee a long or short chapter – I don't really know what I'm going to write about exactly right now. But by the end I will (well – duh).

Chapter 10!

Disclaimer: This is getting old. If you don't believe I am not James Patterson and I don't own Maximum Ride or any of the characters, I don't know how to convince you otherwise now.

FPOV

I haven't seen Mom since she last… abused me. In the different way.

That scares the crap out of me.

I mean, if she is gone a few days, that is pretty normal. She often hangs out at bars, spends the night with a friend (which I don't understand how she has any), and then returns to work.

Being gone over a week – it screams danger.

I don't really know when she will come home, which means I don't know when I'll have to cart Angel over to Iggy or Max's for protection.

Also, the more she's gone, the more creative her punishments become.

This is bad-news-bears for me.

Because I'm so antsy, I plan on asking Max if she can watch Angel for tonight…only because Iggy can't stay home tonight. He has to work.

I don't really want to ask Max – I know I forgave her and everything, but I fail to fully trust her yet. Not to mention the embarrassing scene where she witnessed my unconventional break-down.

Talk about awkward tension.

Time comes for lunch – and this might be one of few times when I am completely uninjured. I grab lunch and sit outside, in the courtyard – though it is chilly outside, I still prefer open spaces to crowded, people-populated, sardine-can lunch rooms.

I am the only one outside. The sky is a dull shade of gray, foreshadowing a stormy night. The wind that blows is chilly, raising goose bumps on my arms as it tosses around my short hair. I set my lunch of an apple and a bottle of water down on the ground beside me, then proceed to lie down on the ground, staring at the dark clouds with my dark eyes.

Lying in the grass, alone, I can let my mind worry over what may happen, what has happened, and how I can handle them.

I hear footsteps, announcing the arrival of another human being. I turn my head sideways to see a pair of small, sneaker clad feet and two legs covered in jeans.

"Yo, Max," I say, knowing it's her.

"Hi, Fang," she says softly. "Can I sit here?"

I look back up at the sky. "Why not?"

She sits down, a seemingly small action, but in reality, it's huge.

It's not that she chose to sit with me.

It's that she chose to not sit with her clones.

She's proving that I can trust her, that she is done with betraying me by associating with people set on verbally mocking me.

I know it. She knows it.

I hear a wrapper being opened. I look over at Max to see a bacon sandwich in her hand, the steam rising from it into the cold air.

My mouth is practically watering from yearning – I can't afford a large lunch. In fact, I steal food from kids' plates for my lunch most days.

However, I nonchalantly look away, acting as if my stomach isn't trying to eat its way out of my abdomen for a bite of that food.

I hear her bite and chew for a moment, then swallow loudly. If one thing about Max hasn't changed, it's this: that girl can eat, and eat loudly.

I feel her gaze more than see it. I turn my head once again to see her staring at my abdomen-chest region.

"Are you having a nice conversation with my abdomen?" I ask her, chuckling slightly.

Her face becomes overwhelmed in a brilliant blush, then stutters out, "NO! I'm not talking to your abdomen!"

I look at her face, smirking, silently laughing at her. "Oh, really? That's not what my abdomen tells me."

She blushes further, then speaks. "It's just, with all the layers you used to wear to hide your scars, I never noticed how skinny you were."

I look at her with a steady, blank stare. "Money's tight," I say, revealing nothing.

Max sighs. "Angel's not as skinny as you," she says.

She's observant. More than I gave her credit for. "Just because money's tight doesn't mean Angel can't eat normal meals," I say.

Her brows crease, and her mouth falls into a grimace. "And you can't? Fang, if you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to take care of Angel."

"I seem to be doing okay right now."

"Fang, you need someone to take care of you… someone to help you out…"

"That didn't seem to matter for the past five years."

I know this is cold, but I don't want to be a charity case. I don't need her help. I am strong enough to protect Angel and get by – alone.

Max's eyes are filled with sadness. "I thought you forgave me," she says.

I stare deep into her warm, brown eyes. "I did; that doesn't mean the past didn't happen."

I look away for a moment, my thoughts tumbling around in my head. Finally, I sigh, letting out my minor anger, and I look back at Max, ready to relent some.

"Look – I'll let you help. I need you to watch Angel tonight. Not overnight – just till later in the evening. I'll give Angel a call when she can come home. I – I have to work late."

Lie.

By the look in Max's eyes, she knows it too.

"That's fine," she says. "Whatever you need."

Another plea for trust. Another reassurance that she is done betraying me.

Silence fills the air. I look back at the sky, trying to distract my mind from the future pain I envision.

Max resumes eating. Once she is done, she seems to snap from the silence.

"Fang – you don't have to lie to me. I know, okay? More than anyone else really does. And I know that you don't trust me for what I've done, but I'm done with that, ok? You're going to have to trust me on that, because you have already entrusted me with your biggest secrets, willingly or not. I know why you really want me to watch Angel – you work, but you're not working late. I know. Why are you trying to shut me out?"

I sit up quickly and glare at her. She fidgets under my glare, but matches it with her determined stare.

"Why am I shutting you out?" I ask, deadly quiet. Her gaze doesn't waver. "Because no one is stupid enough to just do the same thing twice if the first time around everything went horribly wrong."

"Fang," Max says softly, her eyes softening. "I can't make you trust me – you have to try."

I look away, but she reaches her hand up to my face and turns it back to face her. "Can you try to trust me, Fang? Can you let me try to redeem myself?"

Her gaze is bearing down onto mine, and it seems like she is looking at my soul. I feel so exposed, like she is seeing all my fear, distrust, doubts, and worry that I keep well hidden. I utter my answer without thinking, hypnotized by the stare.

"Yes."

Her hand remains on my face after that, longer than necessary. I can't tear my gaze from hers, and her touch is placing a weird sensation throughout my limbs. I don't know what to think – but I don't think I want it to stop.

"Hey, Fang."

With those words, I am able to break Max's touch and gaze to whip my head around and see Jasmine.

She squats down to my level and slings her arms around my lanky form, like an embrace. She leans down and plants a kiss on my cheek. I can feel the slight blush rise to my face.

Embarrassingly enough, I've never been kissed – anywhere – by a girl before. And for some reason, Jasmine doing this, in front of Max – I feel embarrassed.

Jasmine looks at Max.

Max looks away, red.

What's up with that?

"Hi, Max," Jasmine says politely.

"Jasmine," Max replies curtly.

"Just wanted to say hi. I've got to run. Got to be early for my chem lab."

With that, she rises, her fingers running along my shoulders longer than necessary. I don't really notice.

"Bye Fang."

"Adios," I say.

As soon as Jasmine is out of sight, Max looks at me with a serious expression.

"Do you really plan on continuing that – do you plan on telling her your secrets? Are you just going to tell all your secrets to everyone now?"

I give her a cold look. "It's not your business who I see."

She returns my look, standing up. "No, but if you won't tell me your secrets, why does she get to know them?"

Max leaves, and I am more confused than ever.

I arrive home, Angel safely on her way to Max's house.

I open the door and enter, pulling out my keys and putting them in my pocket.

I sling my backpack onto the kitchen counter.

The lights turn out.

"Hello, Fangie."

I freeze.

Fear courses through my system.

"Mom," I reply.

"You betrayed me, Fangie. You tried to tell our little secret. Now you'll pay."

I turn toward her voice, invisible in the darkness. "I don't think so."

The lights turn on above the living room. Only now, there is no couch, no antique TV. Only a cold, steel table, with restraints, plugged into a black box.

Mom remains invisible.

"Oh, you will."

Searing pain spikes up through my back as a blade is shoved into it.

I can feel the blood leaking out my back as the knife stays there, Mom holding it there with vengeance, laughing maniacally.

She's not drunk.

She's angry.

Mom starts slowly dragging the knife upward. I leap away, and she loses her grip, but I almost faint from the agony.

I hear her tsk, tsk, tsk. "That won't do, boy. Not. At. All."

She leaps at me, ready to punch. I deflect her, and aim a punch at her face. She deflects mine, but I don't stop there, swinging my leg to slam my foot into her kneecap.

I hear it crack.

She doesn't wince, or collapse, or anything I expected.

She stands there and smiles.

"I dosed myself with an experimental chemical that will alleviate pain and strengthen the body, as well as immediately repairing any damage done. Can your body do that?"

She moves with inhuman speed, pinning me to the steel table on my stomach. The restraints fly to my ankles and wrists automatically, probably set to restrain whatever landed on its surface.

"Been tampering with DNA again, Mom?" I ask her, ice in my voice.

"Only to test it on you. Ready?"

"Let's see if I can make you disappear from my life finally… by making you invisible."

My eyes widen, but I don't make a sound or move a muscle. The blood I'm losing is already making me dizzy, and I'm fighting consciousness against the pain.

She walks over to the black box and flips the switch that says OFF to ON.

"This box delivers a shock to your central nervous system. But, it is so strong that, if it works, will overcome your system and leap into your other cells. It will destroy your pigmentation, and it will hinder their ability to reflect light, resulting in invisibility – well, except in complete darkness. But if you're in that, then you're pretty much invisible anyway."

She fingers a dial that has three colors around it: green, yellow, and red.

"I wonder how many shocks it will take for you to disappear from my life."

I finally squirm, straining against the holds, but they're strong.

"I'm impatient, though. I wonder if I raise the amount if it will happen faster."

She turns the dial all the way up to the last of the red.

"Bye bye, Fangie."

She hits a round black button.

Lightning cracks outside.

Lightning then lights up inside me.

It leaves, and I lie in black agony, on the bridge of unconsciousness.

"You're still here."

The button is pressed again.

Lightning roars inside me.

I scream this time. My body is on fire. I feel all my limbs flailing and burning, but I'm not longer inside them. I'm out of it, watching my body fry, feeling the phantom pain, knowing my life is slipping away.

Phantom Me sees the front door open.

"I thought I locked the door," I think.

The person standing there is not moving. "Smart," I think.

The button is pressed once more, not let up for a while.

Phantom Me can't see my body anymore.

I fly back into my body, screaming inside as my useless body suffers. The lights rapidly change colors, shaping images faster than my mind can comprehend, forming from the former darkness for a second.

Then, all goes dark.

This chapter is dedicated to Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin. The video, created by vouchsafing838 on YouTube is really moving, even if you haven't seen Raise Your Voice (which I haven't). Check it out.

See you next weekend (hopefully).

R&R