44 Cedar Street
Arcadia Bay, Oregon
I'm not gonna lie; I really, honestly thought Max was fucking with me this time.
I figured she was still freaked out from our run-in with that Jefferson guy and she was trying to ease the tension or something. Either that or she'd just had a stroke, because why the hell else would she say something as batshit crazy as 'We need to go talk to David'? What the fuck could El Step-Douche Supreme possibly have to contribute?
"See him yet?"
"You're looking in the exact same direction I am, Max." Which isn't exactly true since she's mostly been staring at her phone.
We decided to leave the truck at the tree fort and hike back through the woods like when we were kids, waiting until the sun was down before leaving the trees and slowly making our way toward my house. The folks in my neighborhood aren't very nosy, so we don't have to put too much effort into staying out of sight. Not like that retired old bag that lived across the street from Rachel (shesfuckingdeadbutdontthinkaboutit) and was always up in everybody's business. I swear she just lurked by her window all day with a pair of binoculars like the wrinkled old creeper she was.
"Are you sure he's going to come outside?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
She lets out an annoyed huff that I feel more than I see. Hiding in our neighbor's bushes might not be super comfortable, but it does have some upsides. Having Max sitting in front of me, the length of her back pressed up against me, is definitely one of them. I can feel her breathing in time with me, and I'd probably kiss her again if we weren't waiting for David to appear.
"I just don't want to sit out here all night."
"Just trust me, okay? It's Wednesday night, which means he'll be rolling the trash bins down to the curb at eight." I swear, you could set your watch by David's patterns. Once I had them figured out, sneaking out of the house was a breeze. "Douche-Bot is predictable as fuck."
Max shifts a little, glancing over her shoulder. "David's a good person, Chloe. He's just got some issues he needs to work out."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm serious."
"And I believe you," I insist. "And since he basically saved you from bleeding out on my bedroom floor this morning, I'm willing to cut him a shocking amount of slack. That doesn't mean I have to like it or him."
I shouldn't have mentioned this morning, because Max immediately turns to look at me with those soft, compassionate eyes of hers. "How are you doing?"
"M'fine." It's not the first time she's asked, but it's not really something I feel like discussing. "The ground is a little cold, I guess."
"You know what I mean."
"Not really." I don't know why I'm trying. She's always been able to see right through my bullshit.
"Chloe..." It's unreal how much Max can say with just my name.
"I'm...fuck, I dunno." In a way, even the fact that I'm supposedly dying takes a backseat to the fact that I'm never going to see Rachel (dontthinkaboutitpleasethinkaboutanythingelse) again. "It's all still there, but I'm just...putting it off."
She nods. "I understand."
Sighing, I lean forward to drop my chin on her shoulder. "Can we talk about something else, please?"
"Of course."
"I swear I'll handle it later." I'm not sure why it felt so important to tell her that. "I just can't right now."
"I get it. Really." She tilts her head a little to one side, pressing her cheek to mine. "But I'll be here when you're ready."
"I know. Thanks." I peer down at her phone. She's been fiddling with it for a while now. "So, what're you looking at, anyway?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing."
"Uh-huh. Is it porn?"
It's pretty cute, the way she tries to cover her laugh. "No, it's not porn."
"Good. Because if it were, I'd be pretty pissed that you didn't let me watch, too. Unless it's really weird porn." I give her side a gentle poke. "Is that it, Max? Is it weird porn?"
"It isn't any kind of porn, Chloe."
I snort. "Prude."
"I'm not a prude," she fires back, sounding surprisingly defensive about it. Before I can respond, she adds, "But it still isn't porn."
"Then what's so amazing that you just can't put your phone away?"
Max hesitates, then raises her it for me to see. "Take a look."
It's the message history between Max and her mom. I don't even need to check the dates to tell the difference between yesterday and today, and I pretty much instantly wish I hadn't bugged her about it. I don't know how I always manage to step in shit like this. It's fucking uncanny.
Mom: We are so proud of you for saving that girl. We want to know how you are, so please call us as soon as you can. I miss your voice!
Max: Sorry Mom, I'll call you back in a few minutes. Swear!
Mom: Thanks for letting me gush over our Blackwell hero. Let us know if you want to come up for a quick getaway, okay? We love you!
Max: Love you, too!
Mom: Answer your phone right now, Maxine!
Mom: We know you're with Chloe. And we know you have your phone.
Mom: Max, please answer!
Mom: I can see you're getting these messages. Just send one back so we know you're okay!
Mom: Your father and I are scared, Max! Just pick up the phone and talk to us!
Max: I'm okay, Mom.
Mom: Where are you?
Mom: Please come back to the hospital!
Max: I can't. I'm sorry. I promise I'll explain later, but right now I need you to trust me.
Mom: Whatever you've done, it doesn't matter! You won't get in trouble.
Max: I love you both.
CONTACT BLOCKED
"Oh. Shit."
"Yeah."
"You blocked your mom's number?"
"I had to." She nods. "Dad, Joyce and David, too. I'm surprised you haven't."
"My phone's been off since the last time we were here," I admit. "I'm sure I've got all kinds of fun shit waiting for me."
"A lot from David, I bet." She shrugs at my curious look. "It was a whole thing. I'll tell you another time."
"Did he get all weird in the future or something?"
"He just had some trouble adapting after the storm. He got better after he moved to Arizona."
"What's in Arizona?"
"A desert commune."
"Okay, now I know you're fucking with me."
"Am I?" Tapping my knee, she points at the house. "There he is. Right on time, too."
"See? Didn't I tell you?"
"I'm sorry for doubting you," she laughs, and I don't have to see her face to know she's rolling her eyes at me. "C'mon. Let's go."
Standing up from behind the bush (and trying to ignore the prickling sensation in my half-asleep leg), we move quietly over to the edge of the fence like a couple of creeps, hoping that he doesn't notice us too soon. The last thing we need is for everyone to start yelling.
Coming within ten feet of where David is rolling one of our garbage bins to the curb, I glance toward the house, then cup my hands around my mouth. "Psst! David! Over here!"
He turns in our direction and does an actual double take; the trash bin's handle slipping from his grip. Luckily, it tips over to land on the grass with a muffled thump, and not on the pavement. "What the fu-?"
"Shh!"
"What in the hell..." He's gawking, like he can't quite believe we're here. "Max, where have you been? Your parents are worried out of their minds!"
"I'm fine, too," I snap. "Thanks."
My remark doesn't even earn me the usual David-glare. Ouch. "You both need to get inside right now!"
"No," Max hisses, lifting her hands. "You can't tell them we're here!"
"What are you talking about?! Why the hell would-"
"Chester Munroe thought you'd have his back," Max interrupts, and David goes as still as a statue.
"...what did you just say?"
I feel my shoulders stiffen; the last time I heard David use that tone, it was followed by a smack upside the head. Slowly reaching under my jacket, I let my hand come to rest on the gun. Max warned me that David might react like this, but that won't stop me from pistol whipping the shit out of him if he lays so much as a finger on her.
"I said Chester Munroe..."
"Where the fuck did you hear that?" He growls, storming over to where we're standing and getting right in Max's face.
"I heard it from you," she responds evenly, not flinching or breaking eye contact. He probably doesn't even notice when she raises her hand a little in my direction. It's enough to remind me that we're here to talk (for some fucking reason) rather than bludgeon him unconscious.
Fine, I'll back off for now.
"The fuck you did." He leans in a little closer. Max looks unimpressed.
"You told it to me in 2015," she insists, coolly. "I asked you for something I could say that would make you listen, and that's what you gave me."
David stares at her for a long moment, then slowly echoes, "2015."
She nods.
"As in...two years from now?"
She nods again.
"Right." He eyes her warily. "We should get you back to the hospital."
"I'm not crazy."
"I didn't say you were," he says in what I think is supposed to be a calming voice. "I just think you're a little confused. You lost a lot of blood this morning. It's normal to be disoriented."
"I'm not confused, I'm not disoriented, and I need you to listen."
His hand snaps out, gripping Max's arm hard enough to make her gasp. "No, what you need is to-"
Cli-click.
It's amazing how loud the sound of a gun being cocked can seem; it cuts David off so sharply that you'd think I'd already shot him. "Let her go."
Very slowly, he turns his head and locks eyes with me over the gun's sights. "Where did you get that?"
"Did I fucking stutter?" There's no tremor in my voice. My hand doesn't shake. "Hands off. Now."
David's an asshole, but he's not a moron. He releases her arm and takes a step back. For her part, Max looks cool as ice. It probably helps that she thinks the gun isn't loaded. Sorry, Super Max. The hand is quicker than the eye (especially when that eye is glued to a cell phone) and I've spent enough time on the business end of David's temper to know when to hedge my bets.
"Put the gun down, Chloe," David rumbles, smart enough to keep his hands where I can see them.
"Hard pass."
"You're making a big mistake."
"The only mistake we made was coming here," I spit back. "I told Max you this was a bad idea. And somehow, she still convinced me to give you a chance."
"Chloe..."
"Save it. We're leaving. Don't follow us." I laugh humorlessly. "Y'know, that Chester guy really had your number. Why the fuck did I ever believe I could trust a piece of shit like you?"
I don't know who the fuck Chester Munroe was or what happened to him, but David's usual bright red rage face goes white as a sheet. You'd think I just booted him square in the sack.
"N-no..." he stammers. "That wasn't...I...I didn't..."
I'm sorely tempted to twist whatever knife I just stuck him with, but Max appears between us before I can. She doesn't run over, she's just suddenly there. Startled, David stumbles backward, trips, and falls on his ass. "Wha...what?"
"That's enough." Max hisses. "We haven't got time for this. We're already behind schedule, so the two of you need to stop trying to gut each other."
"Max, I..."
She whips her head around, giving me a fiery glare that I should not find as sexy as I do. I know Rachel (dontthinkaboutherforfuckssake) teased me a few times about being a closet sub but god damn...
"Chester Munroe thought you'd have his back," Max repeats, slowly turning back to El Step Douche. "I'm not crazy, David. I'm a time traveler, and if you don't listen to me right now, everyone in this town is going to die on Friday morning."
Climbing slowly back to his feet, he eyes Max like she's a bomb ready to explode. "What are you two plann-"
Max sorta flickers before interrupting him. "We're trying to save everyone, but we can't do it on our own. We need your help."
He glances past her to me. "I'd feel better about that if there wasn't a gun pointed at me."
"Fair enough." Glancing over her shoulder again, Max says, "Chloe, you don't have to put it away, but could you please point it somewhere else?"
"Fine." I might enjoy having El Douche at gunpoint, but even I can admit that it's probably not very constructive. David's eyes follow the gun as I slowly lower it to my side. "But if you hurt her, you won't live to regret it. Clear?"
"Yeah," he mutters, eventually. "Clear."
"Good."
"Better?" Max asks.
"Fuck..." He runs a hand over his face, glancing back at the house. "There's literally no one on earth you could have heard about that from but me, and I haven't even said his name out loud in years."
"Then how do I know it?"
"I don't..." He stops and gives us both a guarded look. "Did I tell you anything else?"
"No. You said that'd be enough to convince you."
He eyes us both for another moment, then nods at Max. "I don't know about convinced, but you've got my attention."
"That'll do for now." Max glances past him at the open garage. "We should go somewhere else to talk."
"Or we could just go inside," David counters. "Like reasonable adults."
"The fuck would you know about being reasonable, asshole?" I mutter. For a second it looks like he's going to say something, but then his eyes fall back to the gun in my hand, and he keeps his mouth shut.
"Absolutely not," Max counters. "Joyce and my parents can't get involved."
"Why not?"
"They won't be any help. Honestly, they'll probably just get in the way. And they definitely won't listen to a word I have to say."
"I'll vouch for you," he insists, turning to scowl at me when I laugh. "Believe me or don't, Chloe, but knowing about Chester buys her a lot of credibility."
"I appreciate that," Max says calmly, shaking her head. "And if I hadn't ended up in the hospital I might have taken you up on it. But now? There's no way my parents will let me go anywhere other than back to the hospital or back to Seattle."
He doesn't look very happy about being challenged (I mean, does he ever?) but he doesn't push back, either. Who the hell was this Chester guy?
"Can you at least tell me what this is about?"
"Your investigation, for a start." For the second time in the last five minutes, Max just about knocks David off his feet with one sentence.
"How do you know about that?"
"Not here," Max replies. "If you're going to betray us, save us all some time and do it now. Otherwise, go make up an excuse to leave. Once you're in your car, I'll text you a destination."
He doesn't move right away, peering at Max like he's looking for something. Then, when he finally turns around, he practically jumps out of his shoes when he discovers her already standing there. Even from my angle, it was weird as fuck to see her blink from one spot to another like that.
"Wha-!" He cuts himself off, glancing at the house again.
"Just a little reminder," she says evenly, putting out a surprisingly intimidating vibe. "There's no point trying to pull a fast one on us. Got it?"
"G-got it..." he nods.
"Get going."
Max and I retreat back into the shadows, and the only crack in her confident exterior is the way she grabs my hand when David reaches the door leading back into the house. She doesn't have to say anything; her hand is already raised, ready to turn back the clock if David tries something.
Glancing back at where we'd been standing, David opens the door and speaks loudly enough for us to hear. "Joyce? I'm going to go for another drive around town before it gets too dark and look for the girls."
Mom's response is muffled, along with two other voices that make Max squeeze my hand tightly. I know how much she loves her parents, and how hard it must be for her to lie to them like this.
"I know, but maybe I'll get lucky," David continues. "I'll probably check in at the police station, too. I've got my phone on me if you hear anything, okay?"
Another muffled reply.
"Thanks. Love you, too." Closing the door, he hesitates a half-second before getting into that rolling penis-replacement car of his and pulling out of the driveway. Beside me, Max silently unblocks his number on her phone and texts him a map link that'll take him to the tree fort.
"So far, so good," I mutter. "Here's hoping he doesn't just stab us in the back."
"He won't," Max responds, softly. "C'mon. We have to hurry if we're going to get back before him."
[Unknown Number]: Tell me you're not lying.
Max: Who is this?
[Unknown Number]: I need you to say you're not lying, Max.
Max: Victoria?
[Unknown Number]: Who else would it be?
=CONTACT UPDATED=
Max: This isn't your phone number.
Victoria: Yes, it is. I don't give my number out to just anyone. The one you have is some app I use.
Max: And now I'm worthy of your real one?
Victoria: Tell me, Max.
Max: I'm not lying. This is real.
Victoria: Then I'm in.
Max: Just like that?
Victoria: Yes.
Max: What was in that letter?
Victoria: None of your business. What now?
Max: We need to talk. Where are you?
Victoria: Down by the beach. Near the diner.
Max: Go to the gas station down the road. I'll send someone to pick you up.
Max: Stop at the gas station on the way out of town. Victoria Chase will be waiting for you there. Tell her I sent you, then drive her here.
David: Why would I do that?
Max: Because I'm a time traveler and I told you to.
David: Fine.
David: We'll be there in 20 min.