Ch.12

Mac stormed into the house later that night, looking even more furious than he had when he'd left the bar. Charlotte was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, when he came. She didn't move, instead she chose to watch the irate man fume and curse. It was actually pretty amusing. When she let out a little huff of laughter, Mac turned on her. He approached quickly, pinning her to the counter and looming over her. He'd lost the intimidation factor over the years, when she'd started fighting back. His bark was worse than his bite and her teeth had always been sharper. Rick had been right, Mac liked to keep his toys in playable condition. Still, she didn't revel in how the counter was digging into her back at that moment.

"You think this is fucking funny?" Charlotte shook her head.

"What's wrong now? You heard about the DEA right?" Mac growled, so she figured he'd heard. "So then what's got you so mad?"

"That little prick that hustles pool during the summer," his eyes met hers, she figured to give her a second to recall him. She nodded, bringing her hand up to curl her fingers in the short hair at the base of Mac's neck. Her dull nails scratched idly against his skin, a motion that usually kept him languid after sex. Now it just served to make his tense muscles loosen. It was a start. Her voice lowered a bit, if she could relax him, it would be better for everyone.

"What about him?" Her attention was working. The stress of everything that had happened since that morning was wearing on them both, but with Mac, everything was always at a ten level. The situation was wearing on him a lot faster than it was everyone else. Mac's arms bent, his head resting on her shoulder. He was sweaty, smelled like grease and oil. It was comforting, almost.

"He's another one." It took her a minute to process that one. His muffled voice coupled with the strange phrase. But she got it. The stupid kid with his perfectly fucked up family was one of them; another of Walter's kids. He was their half-brother.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. Her free arm came to rest on the counter, bearing their weight so that her back wasn't pressed into the hard edge. They stayed like that, in silence. There were too many things happening at once. The DEA was going to be on their ass for who knew how long, one of their own was the one that turned on them and now they had another sibling to bring into the mess. Had Walter already told this boy? How long had Walter known? So many things were going through her head; she couldn't catch onto to one thought for any length of time.

"What about the girl?" Mac's head moved, his body straightening so that he could tower over her again.

"Who?"

"The girl, the sister of the little prick…" She tried to think of a way to make Mac remember. "The little thing, always in the canyons on that dirt bike." Mac looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. But his lack of memory was answer enough.

"Walter didn't say anything about her." Charlotte's heart eased a little, she was safe. The phone rang, disturbing their little bit of peace. Mac pushed off the counter, moving away to the phone mounted on the wall. He answered it and Charlotte left the room, deciding that that was the best time to start looking into Lowell's bank account. Her laptop was in the bedroom, charging on her nightstand. She slid onto the bed, pulling the laptop onto her lap and opening it. The screen came up and she worked quickly, opening her programs and the internet. It didn't take long to have Lowell's account history shooting to the printer on the dresser. After that, she opened up all the records she could get on Neo Beckett. He'd been…strange when he'd been at the house. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him was off.

She read through every document she could find though and nothing came up. The man was clean, not completely-he had several speeding tickets from his early teen years. But he didn't have anything past that. God, was it possible to be that…innocent? Some of the shit Mac's done in the last six years could put him away for several lifetimes. Add that to the little charges and his sentence would probably equal that of all the residents of Cainsville. Walter's would be even longer. That thought made her smile, what would Walter do if he couldn't get his dick wet whenever he wanted? He'd probably go crazy.

"Come on." Mac's voice drew her out of her thoughts. The sky through the window was darker than when she'd sat down. The room was almost black, the only lights coming from her laptop and illuminating her face and the dim light from the kitchen shining behind Mac.

"Where are we going?" Charlotte stood, stretching her arms above her head until her shoulders popped.

"Canyons, Rick said there was gonna be a party…you know, to relax a little." Charlotte nodded, stepping into Mac's arms. He was being unusually cuddly considering how angry he'd been that morning, and when he'd come home for that matter. She figured it was because he was so angry, he didn't feel like directing it at someone he couldn't beat. She'd accept it while it lasted.

They climbed into Mac's truck. She was watching out the window, looking at the dark houses as they passed. Lowell's, then his father's and finally…the summer home. But the summer home wasn't dark, like it should have been. There was a light in the one of the windows, the living room for the glimpse she got, but there weren't any cars in the driveway. Mac passed the house before she could get a better look, but she was sure that she'd one of the dirt bikes leaning against the garage door. That was usually the sign that the family was there.

Why had Walter decided to tell Mac about their newest half-brother today, with everything else going on?