She gave a sound of disgust and walked out again.
“I’ll take that to mean that you’re madly in love with me!” he called after her.
“Don’t.”
The feral cat that lurked around Max’s house came out from under the bed and climbed her way up Zé’s leg. When she’d curled into his lap and, eventually, rolled onto her back so he could rub her stomach, he told her, “She’s definitely madly in love with me.”
* * *
Max came down the stairs and went out of her way not to think about what Zé had said to her. She didn’t have time. She had to wash her underwear, get her team bag together, take a nice long nap, and then get into the city so she didn’t miss the pregame bus. The rest of her team had already left. It was one thing if they were all late, but it was something else entirely if Max fucked up on her own. It would be easier for Coach to suspend her from the game and she didn’t want that.
She walked into the kitchen and stopped at the entryway. It seemed Stevie had lent Charlie a fan shirt, but Max’s big sister did not seem comfortable.
“Do you have anything in a size other than extra small?” Charlie asked.
“Your tits look like they’re having a fight under there.”
“They are having a fight. And I fear a tragic outcome.” Charlie looked at Max. “Do you have a bigger shirt? I want to support you at this thing.”
“Forget the T-shirt!” she suddenly exploded. “We have a problem.”
“God, what now?” Charlie began to roll her neck, already stressed. “Is this about the Malones’ sister? That poor girl.”
“Fuck the deaf girl!”
“Whoa!” Stevie raised and lowered her hands. “Let’s just calm down . . . in fact . . . this”—she continued to raise and lower her hands—“is the American Sign Language sign for calm down.”
“Why is there no door here?” Max asked, motioning to the kitchen entrance. “We need a door here.”
“Dag walked through it one day before he had his morning coffee. He took it right off its hinges.”
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked. “Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“You are freaking out. Which is weird, because you never freak out,” Stevie noted. “That’s why I was always positive you were a sociopath. And I haven’t seen any evidence to the contrary.”
“Zé said he’s falling for me. What does that even mean?”
“It’s obvious,” Charlie mockingly replied. “It means he’s leaving you for a different hot Asian girl.”
“Exactly! He’s leaving me for another hot Asian girl!”
“No!” Stevie jumped up from her chair and grabbed Max’s forearms. “That is not what that means.” She smiled. Her expression was sweet and kind and all Max wanted to do was rip that smile off her sister’s face and wear it around the neighborhood like a Halloween mask. “He’s falling in love with you. And you love him back! I can see it. This is so wonderful!”
“Why?”
“It means you’re not a sociopath because you can love others! Aren’t you glad to know you’re not a sociopath? I know that Charlie and I are glad. And relieved!”
* * *
Charlie counted backward. “Three. Two.”
And it was on “one” that Max dropped her underwear, grabbed their baby sister by the hair, and took her to the floor. “Take it back!” she screamed. “Take it back!”
Reaching down, Charlie untangled Max from Stevie’s hair and pulled the pair apart.
“Stop it! Both of you!”
“He loves you!” Stevie yelled . . . from the safety of the ceiling she was now—wisely—hanging from. “You might as well suck it up!”
“I will kill you,” Max threatened.
“Everyone just calm down.” Charlie placed her hand on Max’s shoulder. “There are worse things in the world than extremely hot guys falling in love with you.”
“Like what?”
“I hear nuclear war is bad.”
“You’re just going to have to get used to this,” Stevie informed her. “Once cats make up their mind . . . they’re done. You could marry someone else and have twenty kids and Zé will still be living under your porch. Because he’s a cat! So you are stuck with him. For life.”
Jumping straight up in the air, Max slapped Stevie off the ceiling and into the dining room.
“You bitch!” Stevie yelled.
“Nice lateral jump,” Charlie noted.
“Can’t play shifter ball if you don’t have a lateral jump. Especially when you’re going up against cheetahs and tigers. Those striped bastards can jump, like, fifty feet!”
chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Everything had changed in minutes. Maybe even seconds. Max was about to settle down for her nap when a text came in to Charlie’s phone. She’d frowned, responded, and left the kitchen. Leaving her fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon buns alone, with bears already lurking in the yard, ready to pounce.
That was when Max knew something was up. She’d followed her sister to her room and when she saw Charlie taking out her Glock and holstering it to her jeans . . .
“The time changed, didn’t it?”
“Yes. I need to go now.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You’ve got your game.”
“The way we work? We’ll make the game.”
“Max—”
“And the team’s coming with me.”
A confused, flustered Charlie faced her. “The entire Wisconsin Butchers team is coming?”
“No, dumbass, just my girls. My team.”
“Absolutely not!”
“They insisted.”
“I’ve never worked with them.”
“I have.”
“I don’t know what their skills are.”
“I do.”
Unable to come up with a satisfactory argument, Charlie just snarled. “Fine. Get ready. We leave in five minutes.”
“What you guys want me to do?” Stevie asked from the ceiling.
“You really need to stop doing that,” Max warned her.
* * *
Charlie drove and they met Nelle, Streep, Mads, and Tock at an address downtown. Imani met them there as well.
“I’m sorry about this last-minute change. But we need to move now rather than tonight.”
“Then let’s go,” Charlie pushed. “My sister has a playoff game tonight and none of us are missing it.”
Imani nodded and ushered them into the empty building.
“This will be our office. Eventually,” she told them as they followed behind her. “It’ll be nice once I get it up and running.”
“Is there a name for this organization of yours?” Streep asked.
“Still working on that, too.” She stopped at an elevator and pushed the Down button. As they waited, she looked the small group over before stating, “I didn’t expect all of you.”
“You tried to blackmail all of us,” Tock reminded her.