READ AUTHOR'S NOTE! IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Hello, loyal readers! Here is the new chapter, in return for those many reviews! I got 14 reviews, which is more than I asked for!

So here is how the next update is going to work. Ten reviews and I'll update by Saturday (about 5 days from now.) Fifteen reviews and I'll update by Wednesday. Three reviews for my Hunger Games Story and I'll update tomorrow.

Question: Should I do a daily question thing, and you'll leave the answer to my question in the form of a review? Haha tell me yes/no in a review! If I really like an answer, I'll give a shout out in my next chapter!

Oh, and I haven't done a disclaimer in a while so..

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE! IF I DID, I WOULD BE DATING IGGY!

So you guys know what to do, READ AND REVIEW!

He daringly began to work his lips against mine, as I sat there, frozen.

He pulled back for a second, only to look into my eyes and press his lips against mine again.

Then I realized what was happening. Fang was kissing me. And then I was kissing him.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, slowly, maddeningly, and in return, mine crept around his neck.

We stayed in that position for a while, simply kissing, or as I've heard it called, 'sucking face.' Then Fang thought it would be a good idea to put his hands up my shirt.

I didn't even realize what he was doing until I felt him reach the first scar, then the second, then the third. They're everywhere, which means it took about no time for him to realize it wasn't just one scar.

We pulled away from each other at the same time.

"What the Hell, Max?" He cried out, abruptly pulling his hands from my shirt.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked at the same time. I decided I would play it off as if I had no idea what he was talking about. "Get your hands out of my shirt, you pervert!"

He began to protest, but as soon as I heard the word 'scars' I turned and stormed off. I didn't even know where I was going, this house was too big for me to navigate around, so when I ended up in a wooden swing set, I decided that was a good place to stay.

The swing set was old, and rotting in certain places, but I took an immediate liking to it.

I climbed up the foul-smelling wooden staircase, into what seemed to be a cave. I crawled to the corner, sat, and prepared for the tears. But they never came. I simply sat there, rocking myself back and forth, cursing the world for doing this to me.

Why can't I just be a normal girl? A girl that can kiss a boy and not have to worry about the scars that covered her body? A girl that thinks her little sister is annoying but loves her anyway? A girl that might not get killed by her parents?

Why did the world decided to do this to me? Did whoever controls everything look at me when I was born and say, "Yea, she looks tough, she should get abused everyday by her parents."

It couldn't have been God that said that, I don't believe in him. If he was really up there, if anybody was really up there, I would like to think that they would've done something about my situation by now. They would have at least lessened the beatings a long time ago. Or saved Angel from this menacing reality.

So, if there was God, if there was a presence up there in the sky, I would like to think he would have helped us by now. He would have solved all of the injustices in the world instead of simply creating us then releasing us to wreck havoc upon ourselves. Or maybe he just thinks it'll all be solved in the so called 'afterlife.' He thinks good will go to heaven and bad will go to hell, and that will be that. He just forgot about the years before we'd all have to endure before we got there.

And maybe he doesn't even serve that justice correctly. Maybe some bad sneak into heaven and some good get sent to hell. And that's why I appreciate the thought of the devil. He takes in the souls that God rejects. He isn't judgmental, simply uncaring. He'll take anyone in, no matter what the consequences may be. I don't see why he is always the bad guy.

I shivered in the cold comforts of the rotted wood. Both the temperature and the scariness of my thoughts contributing to my shiver.

"Max?" I heard a shout from the distance. "Max?"

Not knowing who it was, I called back, "What?"

"Oh, thank God I found you!" I grimaced at the mention of God. "I've been looking ever since you ran away!" Fang took a few steps towards my hiding place.

"What do you want?" I grimaced as my cracking voice gave away my pain.

"I just want to know what happened to you!" He practically begged. A few more steps were taken in my direction.

"No, you really don't!" I told him, placing a hand on the outside of the set.

"You can't know that!"

"But I do!" I said sadly, giving up and descending the stairs. "Nobody deserves to know about this."

He gave me a confused glance, then leaned forward, looking deep into my eyes.

I shifted uncomfortably. Why was Fang acting like this? He is the silent one, the emotionless one, the one that doesn't care. This certainly is not careless.

"Maybe not," He admitted, "But I'll take that punishment for you."

Now I returned his confused glance. Why was he doing this? Was there something more than attraction? He obviously was attracted, considering he just kissed me. Or maybe he just felt bad for me. Maybe he just was acting like a teenage guy, making out with anything that moves and has breasts.

No, this isn't just attraction. He wouldn't go this far for just attraction. Maybe... maybe this is love.

And maybe I love him back.

"Alright," I relented. "I'll... I'm going to tell you something that nobody else knows."

I sat on the cold grass, ignoring the dew. He sat with me, taking my hands.

"I'm abused!" I blurted out, throwing my lies to the wind. Maybe the thought that someone actually loved me was making me crazy. I had planned to lead up, make it seem like less than it really was, but I didn't care now.

The tears came now, pouring down, and I couldn't say anything, all I could do was breathe and lean into Fang's embrace.

He soothingly rubbed my back, and I felt his hot lips plant a kiss on my forehead.

"Let's go inside," He suggested, pulling me to my feet once the tears began to slow down.

I nodded, trying to wipe my red eyes. "Oh" I hiccuped, "Kay."

We made our way into the house, and Fang took me down some old hallways to avoid running into his mother. It seemed he loved her, but was annoyed by her a lot. Hey, my mother isn't the best either.

"Let's go into my room," He offered, opening the door to reveal a (surprisingly) black room covered with posters. I saw Panic! At The Disco, Paramore, Evanescence, even the Beatles. I almost laughed when I saw that. I didn't know Fang liked the Beatles. I didn't know Fang liked music.

I sat down on a bean bag chair, black, as you could imagine.

"Damn," I muttered, "Are you emo?" I needed to get my mind off of everything, why not act like a normal kid?

He shook his head. "Nah. I just know what looks good on me."

He took a seat next to me, again taking my hands comfortingly. "Do you want to explain?" Cutting right to the chase, I see.

I sucked in a breath. "Um, yea." Deep breath. "When I was four, my parents started to hit me. It began as just a light slap, but over the course of a few months, it got real bad." I took. steadying breath. "Then, when I was seven, Angel was born." I allowed myself a smile. "The beatings stopped. You see, they beat us because we weren't their version of perfection. So when Angel came along, they thought maybe she'd get it right. So the beatings stopped. Six years later, she spilt a glass of milk." I squeezed my eyes shut. "And they went wild. They began to hit her with a rage I didn't know was possible. Until I got her upstairs and they beat me instead."

Fang squeezed my hand comfortingly, but I was still freaking out on the inside. "I didn't know," He apologized. "I would have never let Lissa or Brigid or any of them do that if I had known."

I bit my lip, not wanting to scream at him for ever letting them do that to me. "I would hope that you wouldn't let them do that no matter what."

I shushed him before he apologized again. "The beatings stayed like this until now. Until Angel ended up in the hospital. Then we got away."

"They beat us with everything imaginable. Belts, fists, feet, even knives." I lifted up the back of my shirt a little as evidence. "That's where these came from."

"They'd even invite people over and then they'd all beat us. I'm honestly surprised neither of us have been raped yet."

The tears began to flow again. "And that would be my messed up story."

He didn't answer me, just held me. "Oh, baby."

I looked up, surprised at the nickname. He had just called me baby. Baby. Why does that give me the good kind of goose bumps?

He just held me, rocking me gently back and forth, murmuring comforting words.

And in the comfort of his arms, I fell asleep.

MAXIMUM RIDE

FANG POV

Max is abused. That's her secret. That's why she is so afraid of me.

It wasn't me that was making her uncomfortable, thank God, I thought I was going to be friend-zoned. Or she would have taken my help then left.

No. Max wouldn't do that. She's been through too much to be that inconsiderate. Unlike me.

I let my 'friends' bully her for years. I let them push her around as if she were nothing. As if she were dirt.

Sure, I stepped in, but only after I had figured out I had some sort of feelings for her. I'm not the good guy that saves the girl because he wants what's right for the world. I'm the guy that has to have a reason to do something. And the reason has to be benefit me.

She was right when she said that I should have stepped in no matter what. I should help whoever Brigid bullies. Lissa isn't really a problem anymore, she seems to have changed on her own, which shows that she can be a good person.

I looked down at the sleeping girl in my arms. God, she was perfect.

I wiped off a little smudge on her cheek, only to reveal a yellowing bruise.

Then I went into frenzy mode. I began to carefully and methodically wipe concealer off of Max's face, neck and arms. I was scared to death that she was going to wake up, but she didn't. She must have completely exhausted herself. Crying like she did really does take a lot out of you. Not that I would know.

Finally, once my hands were completely covered with concealer and her skin was bare, I gasped.

Cuts and scars covered every spare inch of her arms, and yellowing bruises trailed up her neck. There was a nasty scar leading down the back of her neck into her shirt, and without thinking, I pulled the shirt off.

Of course she woke up now. Her eyes fluttered open and she grabbed wildly around, begging me not to hurt Angel.

I cannot believe that her first instinct was to protect Angel rather than herself. I have never seen that unconditional love before. She seems as if she would take anything for that little girl.

"God, don't touch her!" Max begged. "She's just a little girl!"

I leaned in close to her, placing a kiss on her forehead, which seemed to calm her down. "Shh, I'm not going to touch anyone."

She relaxed. "Oh, Fang." Then she realized her shirt was missing. "What were you doing?" She cried, grabbing for her shirt.

"Nothing! I just wanted to see the scars..." I let the sentence trail off. "I'm sorry it was a stupid thing to do, here's your shirt." I handed over the fabric, which she took, but did not put back on her body.

All she had on was a bra, and that still exposed her fully visible ribs, numerous scars and bruises, and even a few words carved into her. I shuddered at the thought of receiving those wounds.

"You... You can look," She muttered, bowing her head in what seemed to be shame.

I lifted her head so we were eye to eye. "You will never have to be ashamed of yourself around me."

My eyes traveled down to the wounds.

She instinctually covered her breasts, and I knew better than to try to remove her hands, or she'd make an accusation about me being a perverted freak and run away.

I traced the long scar down her neck all the way to her lower back. There were words carved into her, too. Whore. Bitch, slut, stupid, worthless, I even saw a sentence. Kill yourself, it said.

Then I remembered her parents had done this to her. The people that were supposed to love her unconditionally had abandoned their job to take up a much more hideous profession.

Max yawned, and I glanced up at the clock. 2:46 A.M.

"Why don't you go sleep with Angel," I suggested, pulling her to her feet with me and slipping the shirt over her head.

She slipped her skinny arms through the sleeves and began to walk with me down the hall to the guest bedroom.

As we opened the door to reveal a sleeping Angel, Max wrapped her bony arms around me in a bone crushing embrace. "Thank you."

I wrapped mine around her, much looser, as if she were china. "Anytime."

With that she slipped in the room, curled up next to Angel, and fell asleep.