Vindication
They didn't even bother going to the arcade. Instead, they went straight to the auto shop because Neil would go ballistic if they came home with the car looking like it was fresh out of the compound. Of course, Billy didn't tell her any of this–he didn't need to. After spending years with them, she quickly understood why he did. And it was all the more clear when he kept pestering the auto repairmen to fix his car today.
"Look, kid, we already checked the damages, and it's still safe for you to drive," a worker named Doug said.
"I don't care if it's just safe to drive. I'm telling you I can't go around driving like this! I need you to fix it now." Billy's lips were pressed into a tight line as though he held back what else he might want to say. His eyes held that pleading look that screamed, Please help me.
"And I'm telling you we can't do that," Doug said, a little annoyed. "Even if I wanted to, we don't have the right parts. So instead of bitching, go to the front desk and book an appointment so we can order your damn pieces . . . And why don't you take yourself to a damn hospital while you're at it?" He pointed to the cut and blood on the side of Billy's head. They did look kind of disheveled–Billy's hair was sticking up at odd angles where he'd been grabbing at it in frustration. The small cut on his head was red and slightly swollen. Max didn't have any cuts, but she was rumpled all the same, and her hair was falling out of her ponytail to frizz around her face.
Eventually, Billy gave in and scheduled an appointment for Monday. He grumbled about it all the way home, but Max stayed silent, still shaken up; though, the feeling was less. Her adrenaline wore off some time ago, but it still felt like she was right there in the wreck, pinned behind Billy's arm.
Why had he done that . . . put his arm out when he wanted her to die?
Are you hurt?
The words echoed in her head. Perhaps she was concussed and imagined it. Imagined his arm over her. Imagined his words. There was no way she saw him actually caring. Protecting. Especially after that argument, after he told her to die . . . Billy protecting someone? Protecting her? No way. Didn't even sound right.
Maybe he only did that because he knew he'd be screwed if she got hurt. Maybe he was just reacting like he would protect a box of pizza or takeout.
Or maybe he didn't have time to think at all and acted on impulse. Quick reflexes. Like her mom would do when she knew she'd make a sudden stop. Maybe he actually reached out to protect her . . . She didn't know. She was still wrapping her head around what just happened. And all of that still felt like a dream.
As soon as they got home, Billy acted like nothing happened. Acted like they didn't just nearly die after having a shouting match. He'd stopped grumbling, and back in place was that mask of indifference, the one that said he checked out. No emotion, no expression, just blank Billy.
He parked in front of the house for the slim chance Neil wouldn't notice the damages since he always parked in the back. He climbed out of the car. As he headed to the house, Max tried to push open her door, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed harder for the same results. How the heck did the mechanics do it so easily?
"Billy, wait. I can't get out."
"Then climb out the window."
Max's jaw fell. He said it so quickly and continued on, not even bothering to look back at her, let alone help. There he goes being a jerk again. But what else did she expect?
Instead of climbing out the window and risking cutting herself on the shattered glass, Max shoved her shoulder into the door. Then again with a little more force, shaking some loose glass from the window. With one final shove, the door screeched open. Max flew forward and onto the ground, scraping her hand on the pavement while trying to catch herself. She let out a sharp hiss as she analyzed the dirt, pebbles, and scrapes in her hand.
It was only then she realized she could have gotten out on Billy's side. That would have been much easier.
When she looked up, Billy stood still on the step to the house. Stared right at her with that bored look of his. Then he just went straight inside, leaving her there on the ground.
Asshole.
Max picked herself up and slammed the car door shut, more loose glass from the busted window falling to the ground. As she walked to the house, she thought about holding her tongue and dropping what just happened, but she needed to settle her curiosity.
She slammed the front door behind her and caught up to Billy before he entered the hall. "So what, you don't care if I get hurt anymore?"
"Whoever said I cared in the first place?" he said, never slowing his stride.
Max paused, stunned. The words stung, like a whip as they lashed across her. She held back her wince. "Then why'd you even bother asking if I was earlier?" she snapped. Why'd you bother throwing your arm over me?
He gave an annoyed sigh and turned to her with his tired eyes. "Because if you were hurt, I would be in serious trouble . . . like always." He mumbled the last part.
Something sank in her heart. It hurt to be right. Guess I thought correctly.
Before she could say anything, he disappeared into his room and slammed his door.
It made her mad, his words. But she didn't lash out. She wasn't sure if his words were true or not. Maybe they were . . .
Look at his actions. Not his words.
She thought about his arm over her in the car. There was nothing malicious about it. Then again, she was so dazed and out of it, how would she know? And the way he looked at her just now like she was an inconvenience . . . the way he ignored her when she fell . . .
Look at his actions.
Max shook her head at the thought of his arm over her. It was one action out of millions. A fluke. How foolish of her to think otherwise.
Billy doesn't care.
. . .
Later in the day, the house was quiet. Max kept looking at the clock. 5:26. Neil and her mom would be home soon. Max wondered if Billy stared at the clock like she did in anticipation. Sure he tried to hide that car from his dad, but he couldn't hide it forever.
It had only been a few hours since the accident, and Max's body and neck were already sore. She couldn't get Billy's stupid words out of her head.
Are you hurt?
No matter how many times she tried to think of the awful things he said during their argument in the car, she could only think of his words after the wreck.
She was still shaken up. Since she got home, she'd been working on repairing her mom's scrapbook, and after, she worked on homework and studying. Anything to busy her mind. But now her hands shook as she remembered the crash. She needed a new space to clear her head. New scenery.
Max left her room and went to the dining room. Before she could think, she called out, "I'll be in the dining room–". Then caught herself. Why was she being courteous to Billy and letting him know where she was? So he wouldn't have his mini panic attacks like last time? He doesn't care about you making amends, remember Max? And he doesn't care about you . . . Her shoulders slumped at the thought, but she quickly shook it from her mind and went to the table to enjoy the solitude.
Max read her The Thing comic at the table. Her hand itched a bit from the fall out of the car. Jerk, she thought. She shook her head, turning her focus back to reading. As she turned a page, Billy sauntered around the corner. They exchanged quick glances. His head was clear of blood, leaving a rather small, but inflamed, swollen cut that was not as deep as she initially thought. Unsurprising, Billy said nothing and went into the kitchen, still acting as though nothing happened.
She heard the fridge open and a cap unscrew. She didn't even need to look to know he was drinking straight from the milk carton. Her mom hated when he did that, which was why he did it. But a few minutes later, to her surprise, he came back into the dining room with a plate of leftover chicken. Billy sat at the table right next to her with a sigh—more like that sound a dad makes when he settles into a chair—and a small grimace that didn't go unnoticed. Did it really still hurt to sit? She thought about the cuts and bruises. Or maybe it was pain from the accident . . .
"Would you stop doing that?"
Max looked up and looked around. Was he talking to her? Did he read her thoughts? "Stop doing what?"
"That."
Max scrunched her face, confused. "I'm literally just sitting here."
"Well, go do that somewhere else."
Max just stared at him, her mouth agape, eyes narrowed. Dick didn't even come close to what he was. She wanted so badly to retort, but she didn't feel like getting into another argument. Annoyed, she slapped her comic shut and angrily shot up from her seat, the chair screeching.
"Surprised you can even sit at all," she mumbled before heading to her room.
Billy hit the table with his knuckles. Not forcefully, but enough to convey he was just as annoyed as she was.
Max huffed. "If you didn't want me near you, then just say that instead of acting like a child."
"You're still here!"
She smacked her lips and shook her head. "Asshole," she mumbled under her breath before stepping into the hall.
"What was that?"
"Asshole!" she said louder, not missing a beat. She whipped her head around so fast and took a long step back into the dining room so she could say it to his face.
"You want to say that again? Go on. Say it."
"What are you going to do about it?"
Silence.
"Well?"
Billy glared at her. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but he just scoffed.
"Thought so . . . asshole."
"Bitch."
Now Max glared at him. He raised his brows, taunting.
"What are you going to do about it?" he said, mocking.
She scowled. It was a little war all over again to see who would break first. Because just like she knew he wouldn't do anything because of Neil, she got the feeling that he knew for a fact she would do absolutely nothing too, especially after how hard she's been trying to make amends. That or he was testing to see if she would falter. Not a chance. With a grumble, she whipped around and walked away.
Ugh! He was just out to harass her at any given chance. To torment her like a freaking minion from hell. He literally goes out of his way to make her life miserable. And he knew she wouldn't do anything to retaliate after all her amending. Asshole.
Max didn't even make it into the hall. She froze when she heard a door forced open and immediately slammed shut.
"WILLIAM!"
Billy's head shot up at the call of his name. His real name.
Max held her breath. That can't be good.
Neil stomped into the room, fresh off his shift. Weariness added to the hurricane about the roll through the house.
"What the fuck happened to your car?!"
What does it look like? Billy wanted to say. Instead, he sat frozen at the table, trying to hide the fear and panic quickly building up inside him. Why the hell did he have to be home so damn early? "I was in a little accident," he said, straight-faced.
"Little?!" Neil gave his usual dry laugh before folding his arms. "So a bumper hanging off, a busted window, and a missing headlight is 'little'?"
Billy swallowed.
Max slowly stepped back into the dining room. Wasn't he even concerned that Billy was in an accident at all?
"And instead of calling to tell me about it, you try to hide it?" Neil continued.
"That's not what I was trying to do," Billy said. Max bit her lip at the blatant lie.
"Then why didn't you call me?" His tone was flat and even as he assessed Billy closely. For a brief moment, there was only a tired look on his face as he waited for an answer.
"I don't know."
Neil scoffed, his lip curling in disgust, the tiredness morphing back into anger. "Is that really the best excuse you've got?"
Billy made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and with a growl, Neil took quick, angry strides toward him. Billy sprung up from his seat so fast, the chair toppled over as he separated himself from Neil with the dining table.
Instinctively, Max felt herself step forward at the same time Neil did. She had no idea what possessed her to move. Perhaps it was the panic of the situation getting out of hand. Or maybe the fact that she didn't want to see Billy get punished again so soon. Neil's head whipped to her for only a moment and a small look of surprise was hidden underneath. "Maxine, go to your room," he snapped, turning back to face off with Billy at the table. He side-stepped to maneuver around but Billy gave chase, a panicked look on his face. Neil was like an animal that hunted his prey. With laser focus, he locked on, and his face began to turn red the angrier he grew.
"Dad, if you'd just let me explain," Billy said, holding up his hands in caution when they came to a stop.
Max immediately took a step towards the hall, but her curiosity for what was to come was stronger. Neil seemed to have forgotten she was there at all, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Billy and the way he held his shaking hands up in defense. He'd made the table his shield, and sure enough, it was the only thing that kept Neil from already grabbing him.
Neil kicked the chair Billy knocked over behind him. "Get your ass over here."
No way in hell, Billy thought. He felt the heat seeping off his dad from across the room, and the last time he called his name like that, Billy ended up in the emergency room. His body had moved on its own when Neil charged at him. And that act alone was guaranteed to get him the belt and a few punches to the face. Fuck.
"If you'd just listen to me–Look, I already took the car into the shop today and set an appointment for repairs. I just have to wait for parts to come in."
"And who has to pay for that?"
"I'll pay you back."
"With what money?"
"I'll get a job. It's not a big deal."
"Not a–!"
Neil snarled, the veins in his neck growing more defined. It was worse now since it was right after Neil's truck was back out of the shop, only to have another go back in. Of course he would see this as justification to punish Billy. He looked like a wild animal, and at any moment, Max thought spit would start to foam at his mouth and he'd reach over and swallow Billy whole. Her heart pounded in her chest. Back off . . . please . . . just back off.
"You have really been testing my patience lately." Neil reached forward in a grabbing motion, huffing out a breath when Billy dodged. "Get your ass over here. NOW!"
Billy's mouth fell open. "You're gonna punish me for getting into an accident?!"
"No, I'm going to punish you for being reckless and irresponsible."
"But I wasn't!"
He gave a mock laugh. "Then tell me what caused it."
"It was the other driver! He t-boned me at an intersection . . . He was so fast I didn't even see him!"
"So you're going to stand there and tell me you weren't the one speeding?" Neil said in a skeptical tone.
Billy paused. "What's that gotta do with–"
"Were you speeding?!"
Billy was speechless. His mouth opened and closed a few times while he tried to think of words to say. The ones that would get him out of the line of fire. But there weren't any. There never was. The room was silent, and still. Max felt slight guilt arise. Billy always sped, sure, but he had been completely distracted because of their argument that she started. And now, he was about to be punished for it. This was all her fault . . . again.
Billy gave a sharp exhale, knowing he couldn't lie about this. "Yes, I was speeding, ok? But I had the right away! Max was there. She could–"
"Maxine was in the car?!" he turned to Max, giving her a brief once over. His face contorted in rage again, and he made a grab for Billy, who moved around to the other side.
Hurt flashed across his face only to quickly be replaced by his own anger. "So you're upset about her safety but not mine?!"
"I know your tendency to speed. Your habit of reckless driving. But for you to bring Maxine into it? How long has that been going on?"
"Dad, I've never been in an accident," he said, dodging the question.
"Until now! What do you have to say to that?!"
Max pressed herself against the wall. She couldn't bring herself to walk away, yet she felt that she should do something. She had never seen Billy argue this long with Neil. He was adamant, desperate to avoid another punishment, but that just seemed to bring out a bigger beast in Neil, because, to him, Billy was talking back. He was being disobedient. The way they danced around the table like lions circling one another . . . only one could come out on top, and it would never be Billy. He knew that, but the desperate look on his face screamed for mercy as he slowly mirrored him, keeping his distance.
"Is this another one of your little acts of rebellion? The other night wasn't lesson enough for you?"
"It's not like that dad!" Billy finally said after a moment. "I'm not rebelling against anything. It was just an accident! But you're not listening." You never fucking listen!
"Yeah? And somehow you didn't get the driver's information, did you? Let me guess, you have an excuse for that too," he growled, reaching forward again to grab at Billy.
"Dad! It wasn't even my fault. I swear."
"I've heard that one before!" Neil yelled, kicking another chair out of his way.
Max stepped back as it slid towards her. She was surprised Neil hadn't shoved or kicked the table. Billy was adamant when something truly wasn't his fault, but Neil would still see it as talking back. Yet, he hadn't thrown a punch.
"I'm telling the truth!"
"Oh you will tell the truth when I'm done with you. You're going to feel it too," Neil said, getting that look in his eye that said he was close to exploding.
Max felt something well inside her, when she looked at Billy's fearful eyes from the threat of another punishment, bringing her back to that night on the side of the road when he had that same hopeless expression.
"Dad, I . . . I told you I'll pay for it!" Billy pleaded, his voice cracking under the strain.
Neil reached across the table and lunged to grab Billy by the collar. Billy, in a panic, pushed the table forward, ramming it into Neil's thighs. He grunted, doubled over, and Billy froze. Max couldn't lock in the gasp that arose from her throat. The room was dead silent.
Slowly, Neil looked up. His jaw was set, and his breaths heaved. The anger was palpable in the room now, and Max felt it crawl up her arms. And Billy . . . he was more rooted than a tree, his face whiter than a ghost.
"Dad, I . . . I didn't mean to do that. It was an accident . . ."
"Come here."
"It was an–
"NOW!"
Max and Billy jumped. Neil looked possessed. Like he could snap someone's neck. He flung the table out his way and charged at him with a vengeance, and this time, Billy didn't move.
Not another one. Please not another one . . . FUCK! I can't handle another one. Not this soon.
Her feet moved before she could think. Max threw herself between them, in front of Billy. Her arms spread wide across his chest, almost like he had done for her in the car. She had no idea what possessed her, but she couldn't watch anymore.
"TK526MX!" she shouted.
Neil paused, his chest rapid with his breaths as he worked through his adrenaline. His angry eyes left Billy's face to stick on hers, making her wince slightly. "What?!"
"TK526MX!" Max repeated, her voice shaking. "That was the driver's license plate . . . I-I read it when he drove off. The guy ran the stop sign and hit us, then just sped off. I memorized his license plate in case it helped . . . Billy's not lying."
Neil still fumed, still seeming unmoved. He dropped his hands, but they clenched and unclenched as though he wanted to reach around Max and grab Billy anyway.
"I-It was uh . . . A green car. Dark green. An um . . . a ford . . ."
"Mustang," Billy finished to her surprise.
Neil's eyes snapped back to Billy. He attempted to reach around Max to grab at him, but she blocked his arm and he scoffed, never acknowledging Max's arm.
"What kind of son did I raise, huh? One that needs a little girl to fight his battles?"
"It's not a battle when he's telling the truth!" Max yelled.
Neil scowled, breathing heavily. She could feel the heat as he huffed like a raging bull. It was obvious he wanted to hit something, especially since a little girl was proving him wrong and standing up to him. But would it be worth going through her just to hit his target?
Billy's words suddenly rushed into her head: "Just because Neil hasn't punched you in the face yet." Her legs shook.
"Is that true?" Neil settled his sharp gaze on Billy. The look dared the younger to say anything other than a confirmation. Max could almost hear Billy gulp in relief.
"Yes sir."
Neil didn't move at first, but then took a step forward. Max took a step back, accidentally brushing against Billy's foot. Neil gently tried to push her aside, but she planted her feet firmly. She gave a barely there shake of her head and stared at Neil with a very minuscule amount of bravery that was waning by the minute. His glare lingered on her for a moment. Challengingly? Threateningly? She wasn't sure. He huffed and looked up to stare his son in the eyes. Neil's gaze moved to fixate on the cut on the left side of Billy's head. He squinted, and then the tension slowly seeped from his body as he let out a long, annoyed sigh.
"You need stitches for that cut. Go down to the hospital. Insurance should cover it," he said and then suddenly tensed up again, causing Billy to shift uncomfortably. "Then you will go down to the station and file a police report. And after, you'll go around town soon and start looking for a job." These were commands, practically set in stone and laid with tripwire that would absolutely explode if Billy did anything but exactly what he was told.
"Yes sir."
"And when you're winter break starts, you give me your damn car keys."
Billy's mouth dropped. "What? Dad–"
Neil cut him off with a dangerous look and pointed a still shaking finger. "Starting now, you don't drive unless it's to school or to this house. As soon as winter break starts, it stays in the garage. Understood?"
Billy tried to control the emotion that threatened to show on his face. His nails dug into his palms as he gave a small, clipped nod. All he does is take . . . "Yes, sir."
"And make sure you clean this mess up." He gave a wave of his hand to the scattered chairs and table, then turned to leave. Max was unsure what the look on his face meant, but it was an assessment . . . a once over, then something like confusion and a sigh before he finally left the room.
Max finally breathed, her heart still racing. Even with the storm gone, she couldn't bring herself to move, still shaken by what just happened. Billy on the other hand did as Neil said and started fixing the chaos they caused in the dining room. She watched him sigh as he picked up the piece of chicken strewn on the floor. The tension in her body slowly ebbed the more she watched him. When he started to straighten the table, Max helped by picking up the chairs. Billy didn't look pleased that she did, but he didn't protest either. She and Billy looked at each other, but said nothing, continuing to clean up the dining room in silence.
. . .
Her mom nearly had a conniption when she found out Max was in a wreck. As soon as Neil brought her home from work, she threw open Max's door, ran to her bed, and hugged her so tight, Max thought she'd pop.
"Are you hurt? Any cuts? Broken bones?" she rambled as she looked over Max's body.
"Mom, I'm fine."
"Fine?! Why didn't you call me?!"
Susan flew into another wild rant about Billy's carelessness and how Max could have died, and Max drowned it all out, but her attention was quickly snatched when her mom said, "That's the last time you ride with Billy."
"No!" They were both startled at her sudden outburst. Max shifted in place, shaking her head. "I mean . . . It's ok . . . really. I'm sure Billy will . . . be more careful and drive slower after this." Not a chance.
Susan was hesitant to let Billy drive her to school in that death trap the next day, but Max insisted. No way in heck was she letting Neil drive her, especially after her daring confrontation yesterday. Neil was tenser than ever, like he was pouting over a loss, seeming upset that he didn't get to dish out a punishment. She and Billy treaded around him very carefully.
Like always, Billy left the house without acknowledging her existence, and like always, they sat in excruciating silence, the loud wind ringing in Max's ears from the busted window. She put her hair in a ponytail to keep it from flapping everywhere. In the school parking lot, they got weird, curious looks from the other students. When he parked, Max prepared to break her shoulder trying to ram the door open again.
"Max."
She stopped, surprised by the call of her name, that he said anything to her at all. When she turned, Billy reached into his pocket and outstretched a twenty-dollar bill to her. She eyed it, confused. "What's this for?"
"How should I know?"
"Because you're the one handing it to me."
"I don't know . . ." He shook his head like he was racking his brain for an answer. "Lunch money?"
What? Max thought for a moment. "Did . . . Did my mom give it to you?"
He shrugged.
That didn't make sense. Her mom always gave it to her herself. And she was already set for lunch money for the remainder of the semester.
"Unless you want to spend it on something else," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Just go . . . spend it at an arcade or whatever. I don't give a shit."
Max stared, perplexed. Something was off. Was he trying to get her in trouble or something? Did he steal it? "I don't want it."
Billy stared at her. He seemed taken aback, but then scoffed. "You don't want the lunch money?"
She shook her head.
"Then what do you want?" he grumbled.
"What?"
"What. Do. You. Want?"
Max gave him a blank stare. "I don't want anything."
"Well you have to want something," he mumbled, his brow furrowed in confusion.
She didn't understand what he meant by that. There was underlying annoyance in his words as he said it. She thought for a moment. "Are you saying . . . I should . . . go to the arcade or something? To get out of your way?"
"No, it's not . . . I'm . . ." he gave a frustrated sigh, unable to find his words. He shook the twenty in his tight grip. "Just take it."
"No. I don't want it. Just give this back to my mom–"
"Just take the fucking money!"
Max flinched at the sudden raise of his voice. His eyes were determined. She slowly took the bill from his hand and just stared as he grumbled while lighting a cigarette.
"You can go now," he said, annoyed.
Max gave one last bewildered look before ramming her shoulder into the door to get out, shaking the car a little. After a couple of failed shoves, Billy grumbled again.
"God . . . pull up and push before you fuck up my car more than it already is. Damn!"
She did as instructed, and the door screeched open with ease. Max quickly gathered her belongings and left the car, walking all the way to class like she was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. All through class, she just kept thinking of that weird interaction.
This is odd. Billy never gives me lunch money. And why was he so adamant I take it? His dad just probably wanted him to give it to me or something. But why?
Even at lunch, Max still couldn't shake it. She tuned out Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will as they talked of the Snowball going on in less than two weeks at school.
"Max, are you going? Max?" She finally looked up from her square pizza to Lucas's concerned eyes. Crap. How long was she zoned out? "Max? Is something wrong?"
All eyes were on her now.
"It's . . . It's nothing."
"Is it about the accident?"
In first-period chemistry, the boys asked her about Billy's wrecked car. She explained the accident, and they acted like a couple of over-dramatic parents in a soap opera. Lucas, Will, and Mike were relieved she was ok, but Dustin found it cool. "Like an action movie," he said before drilling her on what it was like.
She sighed. "Remember how I told you Billy's been ignoring me because of . . . the prank." No way she told them the actual reason. Billy would skin her alive.
They nodded.
"Well . . . he spoke to me today and gave me money."
"That's weird," Mike said. "How much?"
"Twenty."
"Grand?!" Dustin said wide-eyed, almost excited.
Max and the others gave him a blank stare. "Well, duh? What high school student doesn't have that kind of cash lying around?"
"You're being sarcastic again, aren't you?" Max raised a brow, and Dustin scoffed. "Look, it never hurts to confirm the facts. Still, a twenty . . . very generous."
"Or a bribe," Lucas said.
"He does seem like the type . . . If a punch to the gut doesn't work then pay off your enemies."
Dustin laughed at his comment, and Will sighed, "What did he say it was for?"
Max shrugged. "For lunch . . . or the arcade."
"Yep, definitely paying you off . . ." Dustin said.
Why would he do something like that?
"I don't know, guys," Max sighed, picking at her lunch. " After the accident . . . it was kind of my fault. He almost got in trouble with his dad until I told him what happened."
"You give him even an inch, and he'll stab you in the back, Max," Lucas said with a nod at Dustin, who gave a thumbs up to that.
Max's attention shifted when she saw Will shift in his seat, seeming anxious.
"What is it, Will?" Mike said.
Will flickered his gaze at the others before settling on Max. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I could be wrong, but . . . I think he's trying to thank you," he said with a shrug and shoved at Dustin, who elbowed him in the side, giving him a look like he was crazy.
"No way, man. Do you even know who we're talking about here?" Lucas said.
"Course he doesn't," Dustin said. "He's never met Max's freakazoid brother."
"Step brother."
Max bit her tongue at Lucas's correction.
Mike turned to Will. "You weren't there when he shoved Lucas into a bookshelf and pummeled Steve."
"And I never even talked to the guy!" Lucas fumed.
Mike nodded. "This guy doesn't have an ounce of gratitude in his body."
"Oh . . ." Will seemed to waver with his answer after hearing the other guys. But even when the subject changed, Max couldn't help but glance at him from time to time.
A thank you?
She didn't want to believe it . . . She couldn't. But those words nestled into her brain like a parasite. She wanted to toss out the outrageous idea, but the more she thought about it, the more it dug deep, gnawing at her. Will doesn't know what he's talking about, she thought. But no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that, her body tensed like it always did when she told a lie.
Because a part of her felt like he was right. No . . . part of her knew he was right.
No way. There's just no way.
To be continued . . .
A/N: "Neil stomped into the room, fresh off his shift. Weariness added to the hurricane about the roll through the house." These are not my words. I forgot what fanfic it came from, but I liked it.