Max looked around the living room but didn’t see any writing paper. Making a tough choice, she grabbed one of the books off the shelves, grabbed a pencil that was lying on the coffee table, and jotted down the address of her Queens home. A move that would have Charlie gasping in horror. She didn’t have much time for reading but she treated books like gold.
“When you’re ready,” Max told Xavier as she placed the book on the table and rushed out the door.
She didn’t bother with the elevator but instead ran down the stairs, hoping to catch Zé before he left the building. But she was too late. She rushed through the front door, past the people hanging out in front of the building because it was too hot in their apartments with only shitty fans to fight the summer heat.
A few men whistled at her or made comments but when she looked directly at them, they all quickly turned away. If she were in a different mood, she might amuse herself by torturing them, but she didn’t have the time or energy. Instead, she walked toward the street a few hundred yards away, again hoping to find Zé before he took off.
“Max.”
She stopped and turned. Zé sat on a bench. As if he’d just given up halfway into his “stalk off.”
Relieved, she walked over and stood in front of him. He didn’t look at her or say anything. Just sat there with his head bowed.
Max kind of wished Nelle was here. She was really good with the emotional stuff and could tell Max what to do. This was definitely not Max’s thing. She was all about the action, about rectifying problems rather than discussing them. And, more than once, Stevie had pointed out how horrible Max was with “anything that has to do with human emotion.”
Still . . . she was all Zé had at the moment.
Reaching out, she placed her hand on Zé’s head and, when he didn’t jerk away, dug her fingers into his hair.
He wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her close, pressing his cheek against her stomach.
They stayed like that a while, neither one speaking or noticing the world around them.
chapter TWENTY-TWO
Berg walked up to Charlie’s house, and the first thing he noticed was that the door was new. He didn’t want to think too much about what had happened to the old door because he was sure it was something bad.
He entered the house and saw damage to the wall from where—he was guessing—the old door had hit it, justifying his earlier concern.
From there he entered the living room. The first thing he noticed was that one of the windows had been boarded up. Yep. Something bad.
Letting his gaze sweep the room, he saw Zé stretched out on the couch.
“You okay, man?” Berg asked, assuming that at some point the new shifter had gone through that window. He’d been around the MacKilligan sisters long enough to know it was extremely possible.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” the cat replied on a very long sigh, which was not the reaction Berg had expected. Especially if Zé had been in some kind of fight. Most shifters found fights exhilarating, not sad. Yet the way Zé was gazing up at the ceiling . . . he appeared sad.
“Where’s Max?” Berg asked.
“She went to get Chinese food.”
“Okay.”
Zé didn’t say anything else so Berg continued on through the dining room and into the kitchen. That’s where he found Charlie. If she’d had another crazy day with her family, he’d find her baking, because that was how Charlie dealt with her stress. But that was not what he found.
Instead, the woman he loved was sitting at the kitchen table with her head resting on her stretched-out arms, and the three dogs he didn’t really want at her feet. He knew this was bad because even the dogs seemed depressed.
“Charlie”
She sighed, sounding a little like Zé. “Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she obviously lied.
“Are you sure? Because you seem a little bummed.”
“No, not at all.”
“Okay.”
“Just wondering where I went wrong with everything.”
Not just went wrong with some specific thing, but with everything. Oy.
“Where you went wrong with what?” he asked, wanting her to be specific.
But nope. “Everything. Where I went wrong with everything.”
Berg tried to find a space for his foot on the floor between Charlie and the dogs. When he didn’t hear a yelp from any of the three on the floor, he crouched next to Charlie and brushed her curly hair off her face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
She sat up straight but didn’t look at him.
“I think I’m a horrible sister,” she suddenly announced. “I’m ruining their lives. At least I hope it’s ruining their lives and that I haven’t already ruined their lives. I want them to still have a chance.”
“Charlie, that’s crazy. You haven’t—”
“I think I should move out and let them enjoy the wonders of life.”
The wonders of life? Seriously? He hadn’t been gone that long. What the fuck could have happened since he’d left on a last-minute protection job with his sister and brother the night before to bring out “the wonders of life”?
Berg hadn’t known Charlie that long, it was true. She’d exploded into his life and he’d been figuring her out ever since. But even though Charlie and her sisters were different from other shifters he’d ever known, the three of them were also the fiercest beings he’d ever known. It was as if Charlie had been created out of steel, Max titanium, and Stevie gold.
But in less than twenty-four hours, the strongest woman he’d ever known had been reduced to a crumpled mess talking about “the wonders of life.” What the hell had happened?
“Okay,” Berg said, standing up. He reached down, put his hands on Charlie’s hips, and lifted her out of the chair.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but she didn’t seem to really care whether she got an answer or not.
Berg carried her into the living room and over to the couch.
“Move your legs,” he ordered Zé, settling her down when the cat finally moved a bit so there was some space.
He turned on the TV and put one of Charlie’s favorite horror movies on: The Exorcist III. Because . . . why not?
Berg left the two depressed shifters and stepped out of the house just as Max was pulling into a spot right in front.
“Hey,” she said when she stood at the back of the SUV, opening the door so she could get the food. “What’s up?”
“What happened with your sister?”
She stopped, looked at him. “Nothing. Why?”
“She seems to think she’s ruined your lives . . . ? Does that sound familiar?”
“God,” Max said with an eye roll, and reached into the back of the SUV to start carrying the food into the kitchen. “She didn’t blow up anything, did she? Did the Feds come by? Should I smuggle her out of the country again?”
“I’m not talking about Stevie. I’m talking about Charlie.”
Again Max stopped, turned to look at him with one of the bags of Chinese food in her hands. “What are you talking about?”