Author's Note: As much as I wanted to update right away because of that cliffhanger and all of your WONDERFUL support in putting me on your favorite author's list . . . I was away Friday and Saturday for my uncle's birthday party. SO, sorry about that! Read on :)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Mayhem

It was late; the moon suspended high in the inky black sky. Stars winked from the closeted darkness surrounding the large oval, permeating a light of their own. I sat comfortably in my bed, swathed in a soft blanket. All the fluorescent bulbs in the apartment were off, natural light filtering in through the window.

I pressed the phone closer to my ear, leaning back against a pillow as I listened to the familiar hum of the person on the other end of the line.

"On a scale of one to infinity, how much do you miss me?" Zach inquired, incredibly serious for such an outrageous question. I could visibly see the expression I knew he was wearing, green eyes narrowed in anticipation of my answer; lips pressed tightly together.

"Well," I started plaintively, making like I was pondering his query. I should have known he wouldn't give me enough time regardless.

"Infinity? Yeah, that's what I figured," he said, the lilting sound of his voice teasing. The connection crackled briefly, fuzzing up. "I always knew you had an unusual, verging on obsessive, attachment to me."

I snorted, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the scratchy feeling of sleep sprouting there. "It's okay. I already know you miss me more than infinity, so I'll let you think what you want."

"I do miss you," he insisted, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "Everybody here is so bland. Now that I've discovered it, nothing has that Max Ride spark. It's crazy how much I got used to someone with as much sarcastic wit as me. I'm lost without you!"

Laughing I responded with: "I'm sure you'll find someone up to par."

"Highly unlikely."

"I am quite the individual, aren't I?" I replied haughtily, burrowing deeper into the covers.

"That you are," he agreed, and I envisioned his smile; with his brown hair flopping into his eyes as he spoke.

After a slight pause he launched back into speaking again, a tinge of wavering uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. "So listen, I was thinking . . . and since I graduated last week and everything . . . I was considering maybe moving to New York?"

"No way!" I gasped, sitting up in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, as long as your boyfriend doesn't mind someone who's obviously very high competition being so close to you," he drawled arrogantly, though his words stung in a way he couldn't have imagined.

"I'm pretty sure he won't mind at all." I laughed humorlessly, frowning to myself at the thought of Fang. I move cross country for this kid and he breaks my heart -again- over the stupidest thing ever?

"Oh no."

"It's not that big of a deal," I lied, sighing as I settled my chin into the palm of my hand. It was a huge deal.

"What happened?" Zach demanded, concern blossoming at the tone of my voice. "Do I need to jump on the closest plane to come kick some ass right now or what?"

This time I laughed for real, shaking my head at his antics. "Don't do anything rash, now. We just . . . we kind of . . . broke up. It's a story I'd really rather not get into at the moment," I said quickly, before he could ask. "He just . . . he's trying to take the blame for something that wasn't his fault at all, and somehow he twisted it around to the point where he thought I'd be better off without him. Safer. It's crap, let me tell you."

"Sounds like it. It also appears that I shouldn't be saving myself for any New York girls anytime soon. People from there seem to be heart breakers, and I don't know if I can take that," he said mock faintly. "I am a man though. A manly man. And we manly men endure these kinds of things. We break hearts before our hearts can be broken. It's a simple science, really."

"You're absolutely ridiculous," I chided him, flashing back to when Fang had said something achingly similar not too long ago, just outside this room. My lightened mood turned quickly sour at the thought.

"In any case, don't fear m'lady. I'll be swinging by soon enough, and you'll no longer have to live like a lonely wench. I'll be the companion you craved so longingly for. Don't try to put any moves on me, though. No offense, but someone exactly like me just really isn't my type."

"And who is your type? Other boys?" I shot back, rolling my eyes although he couldn't see my movements.

He scoffed so loud I could hear it completely clearly through the speaker. "Of course not! I'm too gorgeous for that. It would be totally wasted on most of the population of men. And not fair to the ladies of this fine planet, either."

"If you get any cockier, that bloated head of yours is going to explode from all the hot air you're pumping into it," I warned him. Really. I worried about him sometimes, while consequentially wondering why I was friends with him in the first place.

"That bloated head your talking about is the only reason you survived to pass your GED, may I remind you. I-" I'm sure he must have continued on with his mantra for some time, spewing out reasons why I should consider him a godlike being. My attention was diverted though, by the shadow passing in front of the window.

My breath caught in my throat, as the unmistakable sight of a crouching figure consumed my vision. There was no doubt that somebody was on the rickety fire escape, looking right at me. All their features were blurred by the dark, and panic rose inside me as I contemplated my next actions.

"Uh . . . Zach. I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow."

"-and I . . . huh? Oh. Okay. Talk to you later, Maxiepie!"

"Yeah," I replied faintly. "Later Zachykins."

There was a click to signify he had hung up, followed by a long, lone stretch of dial tone that seemed deafening in the enveloping silence. I never took my eyes off the motionless figure outside my window as I let the phone slip from my grip, falling with a muted thump onto the mattress.

Impatiently the person moved, brashly motioning . . . for me to open the window, I think. Yeah, right. Like I was completely stupid.

I swung my legs to the ground, firmly planting them on the carpet. With quick reflexes I reached over and flicked on the beside lamp, sudden illumination blooming starkly in the previously shadowy room. It granted enough light for me to identify who was at the window.

"Dylan," I hissed, stomping over and roughly jacking the glass upwards. He slid in without invitation, plopping onto the carpet smoothly. Without saying a word to me otherwise he crossed the room, landing on the bed with ease. He interlaced his fingers to create a cushion behind his head, staring up at me with a cheeky smile. I glared back murderously.

"What do you think you're doing here? Hell, how did you even know I was living here?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. There was something seriously screwed up with him, and I was desperate to find its origin.

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, actually. Pleasantly easy. Which means it'll be just as easy for them to track you. They probably already have. They followed you to Arizona, after all," he mused, gazing off into the distance like he was pondering this feat.

I instinctively knew he was talking about whoever he thought killed Jared. Who he thought was coming after me next. I hadn't seen him since that day in my old bedroom, when he had come to explain everything.

"How do you know they followed me to Arizona?" I inquired, raising en eyebrow.

"Max, do you really think it was a coincidence that you almost got killed in an alley there?"

He drove a hard bargain.

"Next time you decide to suddenly barge into my life," I said, changing the subject quickly, "do it like a normal person. Use the front door."

"Are you giving me permission to enter your lovely home whenever I so choose it?" he asked mischievously, his turquoise blue eyes twinkling in a way I used to melt over. Not any more, though. I was so over his honey blond hair and pretty eyes. It didn't justly disguise the wacko beneath.

"No. I'm giving you permission to knock."

He seemed unaffected by this, simply shrugging with a lazy smile. He easily turned the conversation into something more casual, commenting on 'what a nice place I had'. Ugh. Gag me with a spoon. Small talk with Dylan was the last thing I wanted in the middle of the night.

"Is there something in particular you wanted?" I interrupted whatever he was saying, knowing it was rude but really not caring either way. Whatever got him out of my hair faster. He seemed to sense my thoughts, because his next words had my eyes bulging.

"Oh, you're going to be seeing plenty of me in the future, my dear Maximum."

Before I could manage to say anything he was already halfway across the room, reaching for the doorknob. I watched him go wordlessly, trailing behind him to make sure he actually left. He turned back around once to give me a small, sincere smile, before he ducked out of the apartment, letting the door fall shut behind him.

I made sure to lock it, and all the windows, before I went to bed.

- }{ -

When Dylan said I was going to be seeing a lot more of him, he wasn't kidding.

"Seriously?" I deadpanned, narrowing my eyes at him over the cart. "You followed me grocery shopping? Isn't that a little desperate to you?"

"Of course not. This is merely a coincidence," he said cheerfully, looking chipper. Despite his words he didn't waste any time in sidling up next to me, plucking the lengthy list from my hand. He scanned down it quickly, glancing at the things I had already acquired.

"You're sure stocking up with a lot for someone who lives alone. Are you sure you aren't hiding someone in there?" he inquired, trying to make what I'm sure was a joke. I found it hard to get along with him though. For the most part, his intentions seemed sincere. I wasn't going to let my guard down around him anytime soon, though.

For all I knew, he could be the murderer he was raging on and on about.

"Nope. I just eat a lot," I said simply, turning down the next aisle. I scanned the shelves, plucking something down and into my growing pile of groceries as I walked. Eventually we got into enough of a rhythm that he was pushing the cart as I strolled along in front of him, rifling through the sections to find what I wanted.

It was way too easy and harmonious to last.

"Uh, Max?" Dylan muttered, breaking the companionable silence we had drifted into.

"Hmh?" I hummed, glancing up to take in his stricken expression. His gaze wasn't on me though, and I quickly followed it to the other end of the corridor. My eyes met the slicing stare of familiar obsidian irises, glaring coldly; not at me, but at Dylan.

Uh oh.

"Don't worry about it." I nudged his shoulder, spurring him into movement. Slowly he followed after me as I moved closer to where Fang stood motionless, his heavy stare turned onto me now as I closed the distance between us without acknowledging his presence.

I was just brushing past him when is hand shot out, closing around my forearm. I stilled instantly, before stepping back so that I was facing him, Dylan hovering over my shoulder protectively. I know this didn't go unnoticed by Fang, his already midnight colored eyes darkening perceptively.

"Max, what are you doing with him?" Straight and to the point, his voice hardened steel. Beautiful.

I opened my mouth to quip back a response, but Dylan beat me to it.

"I wouldn't have to be with her if you weren't a total idiot, leaving her alone like that. Really? How stupid are you? Someone has to be there to protect her at all times. It's not safe otherwise."

Other than the fact that he made me sound like a totally vulnerable weakling, it was kind of sweet the way he defended me. Not sweet enough, but sweet nonetheless.

"What are you talking about?" Fang demanded, hostile. I felt my position separating them becoming infinitely more tightly packed, which was definitely not a good thing.

To both of our surprise, Dylan laughed. A lot.

"You mean," he said between guffaws, "she didn't . . . she didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I could feel Fang's burning stare turned towards me, and I met it head on with a defensive one of my own. His venomous expression barely fazed me as I raised my chin higher, squaring my shoulders to him.

"That someone's trying to kill her!" Dylan exclaimed, though low enough that nobody else prying and eavesdropping into our conversation would hear.

"We don't know that for sure," I complained.

"Yes, we do. Someone murdered Jared, and that same person is out to get you. They almost succeeded in Arizona and that fight. That's all the proof you need," Dylan insisted.

If he didn't shut up soon I was going to strangle him.

"Give us a minute, would you?" Fang directed this to Dylan, who agreed without complaint. I rolled my eyes, listening to him walking away; whistling tunelessly as he went. He strolled to the other end of the aisle, stopping to examine the greeting cards displayed there. I couldn't be sure, of course, but I was betting he was monitoring us out of the corner of his eye.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Fang's angry query brought my attention back to him. I took in his clenched fists and locked jaw. The deadly quality in his dark eyes had yet to dissipate, and from the twitching in his hands I could tell he was itching to punch something. Most likely hard.

"I didn't think it was important." I downplayed it with an offhand shrug, inspecting my nails so I wouldn't have to stare into the bottomless pits of acid that were burning a hole into my skull from the intensity that he was glaring at me with.

"Your life was potentially in serious danger . . . and you didn't think it was important?" he seethed, gritting his teeth to stop his voice from raising. We were in an extremely public place, after all.

"Oh come on!" I whined. "This is Dylan we're talking about. Did you really expect me to take every word he said as the truth? I'm an idiot for even considering the minor possibility of him changing. Trust me, I'm still on the fence about that one. So don't get mad at me when I was just saving you the worry that could ultimately be all for nothing in the end!"

"Except it wasn't."

"I admit that under the circumstances, it seems slightly more than coincidental that two people tried to kill me in such short time. On the other hand, you dumped me. I don't see how this is any of your concern regardless," I hissed, masking the hurt with an anger that rivaled his own at that point.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. His eyes pinched shut briefly before fluttering open again. They smoldered at me from underneath his heavy lashes, his lips set into a grim line. I waited for his next words, a blank expression on my face at all times.

"About that . . ." he muttered, grimacing slightly.

"What?" I demanded accusingly, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

"I kind of came here today to . . . buy flowers then show up on your doorstep begging for forgiveness . . ."

"You, begging?" I asked with a snort. "That's something I'd like to see."

He groaned, before saying: "I'm willing to swallow my pride and shoulder the humiliation if it means you'll take me back."

". . . You were going to buy me flowers?" I inquired slowly.

"Uh, yeah," he replied somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I probably could have come up with something better, but I was kind of running on short notice. Plus, all chicks dig flowers, right?"

"Not all of them," I disagreed, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Is that your way of turning me down?" His face went emotionless, a carefully concealed mask taking place of his surprising openness.

"Not necessarily," I edged, skirting around the true question. He could tell too, by the stern look that was eclipsing in his eyes.

He stepped closer, bringing a hand to my face. Slowly he ran a tentative finger down the side, traveling to my jaw before his entire palm rested against its expanse. I didn't make any sudden objections, so he continued with his movements, capturing my hand in his; intertwining our fingers before he nestled them between us so that they brushed his chest.

"Well?" he breathed, touching the tip of his nose on mine.

I sighed dramatically before answering with: "I suppose I can extend yo-"

The sharp, insistent ringing off my cell phone cut me off mid-sentence, and I rolled my eyes at the interruption, reaching into my jacket pocket to receive the pesky device. Smiling apologetically at Fang I pressed the talk button, grinding out a greeting.

"Max, something's come up," the voice on the other end said hurriedly, sounding harried and overwhelmed.

"Au- I mean . . . uh . . . Val," I fumbled over what to call her. She wasn't Aunt Val anymore, after all. She was my . . . mother. Admittedly, I hadn't spent as much time thinking about the situation as I should have. As you can imagine though, I had been a tad bit busy with other things. "What's going?"

"Jeb," she stated simply, her voice oozing with an emotion I knew all too well. Abhorrence.

"Jeb? What do you mean, Jeb?" I exclaimed, verging on hysterical now myself. Anywhere my deadbeat dad was concerned there was bound to be ginormous trouble. I hadn't heard from him since Jared's funeral, but that didn't mean he wasn't against stirring up mayhem.

"He . . . He's filing for custody of Angel and Gazzy. Max, he wants to take us to court."

He what?

Author's Note: Hahahahaha . . . HAHAHAHAHAHA. Review? :)

P.S. I might have asked this before . . . I don't really remember, but: sports anybody? In general. What you play, or just favorite pro teams or whatever.