Keane Malone’s snarl was disturbing but Zé ignored it and led him and his brothers into the house.
Kyle was eating breakfast at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?” he asked.
When he didn’t get an answer, he grabbed a piece of buttered toast and followed the group through the house.
As soon as they were near the sunroom, Keane shoved Zé out of the way and charged in. He picked up the young girl standing with Max and Stevie and hugged her so tightly, Zé was afraid he’d crush her.
The hug lasted a bit and then he lowered his sister to the ground. That’s when they started talking to each other using ASL.
Zé had to admit . . . he was shocked. Shocked that someone like Keane Malone knew goddamn American Sign Language. And, from what Zé could see, knew it really well.
The pair were just chatting away, the other Malone brothers interjecting occasionally, when they heard yelling coming from out in the street.
Max and Stevie looked through the window and then both sisters were running out of the house.
“What’s going on?” one of the brothers asked.
“Nothing good,” Zé admitted.
* * *
Charlie was walking back to her house from Ruth’s. She’d dropped off six large honey-pineapple upside-down cakes for Ruth Barton and her husband. If her kids had been home, she would have made the family at least a dozen cakes because Ruth’s grizzly family could pack it away. She normally didn’t just give the bears baked goods. She waited until they asked . . . or demanded. But Ruth had helped her. Had been kind to her when she didn’t have to be. The least Charlie could do was bake the woman and her husband their favorite “Charlie Cake,” as they named her nonexistent baking company.
Passing her garage, Charlie looked up ahead and saw the trunk of a car burst open and someone scramble out, tossing rope off his arms.
“Dad?” She hadn’t said it loudly, but her father heard her anyway. They looked at each other, eyes locking . . . and that’s when her father made a run for it.
“Motherfucker!” Charlie growled before taking off after him. When she caught up to him, she tackled him from behind, dropping him to the ground.
Before she knew it, she was kicking him across the street. A moment later, her bear neighbors came out of their houses. Soon the triplets reached her. And a few seconds after that came her own sisters.
Berg wrapped his arms around her body and carried her away from Freddy. She never wanted to hurt Berg, so she didn’t fight him. But that didn’t stop her from yelling.
She yelled a lot.
* * *
“Youmotherfuckingcocksuckingspunkbubblebastardcuntwhoreofa-motherfucker!”
Trying not to laugh—because hearing her sister use “spunk bubble” as part of one long diatribe of profanity was too perfect—Max grabbed her father by his hair and dragged him to his feet.
“Going somewhere, Dad?” she asked.
Freddy pulled away but he lost a hunk of hair in the process since Max refused to let it go on her own.
“I paid it back,” he immediately told them. “I paid everything back.”
“Dad,” Stevie sighed. “Come on.”
“It’s true! Call your uncle. Call Bernice. They’ll both tell you.”
“Yeahhhhh,” Max dramatically rolled out, “the thing is, Dad, we don’t care if you paid them back.”
“She’s right,” Stevie agreed. “We don’t care.”
“We do care, however, that you kidnapped a seventeen-year-old girl.” Max pulled out her phone. “That reminds me . . . her oh-so-pleasant brothers are at the house right now. I’m sure they’d love to say ‘hi’ to you. Don’t you think, Stevie?”
“They’d love it.”
“Wait!” her father begged. “Just let me explain.”
“Explain what?” Max asked as she texted the eldest Malone on his phone so he could come down and slap her father around. “How you’re going to be arrested for statutory rape?”
Her father, for the first time she could ever remember, actually looked honestly stunned by her words. Not one of his fake expressions either, but as if she’d really caught him off-guard.
“Why the hell would I be arrested for statutory rape?”
“Because when one kidnaps a seventeen-year-old girl, the assumption is kind of made whether you did it or not.”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone.”
“Riiiiiiiiiiight.”
“I didn’t. I just . . .”
“You just . . . what, Dad? What did you just?”
“I just spent time with my daughter.”
Max didn’t really understand her father’s words. She continued to stare at him, her mind trying to wrap itself around this new lie. But then Stevie tackled him to the ground and began pummeling him in the face.
Acting on instinct, Max wrapped her arms around her sister and carried her away from their father while Stevie continued to kick and scream and basically lose her mind.
“Youmotherfuckingcocksuckingspunkbubblebastardcuntwhoreofa-motherfucker!”
As she moved, praying her sister didn’t take this moment to shift into her two-ton self, Max didn’t even look at their father. There was no point.
She got Stevie back to the house but was unable to open the security door. She kicked the door with her foot and Zé opened it.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, taking a still hysterical Stevie from her arms.
“Just hold her,” Max ordered as Charlie returned to the sunroom.
“What’s going on?” she asked, staring at Max.
“If I tell you,” Max explained, relieved that Stevie had finally calmed down enough for Zé to put her on the ground, “it’s just going to make you mad.”
“Are you fucking kidding right now?” Charlie snapped.
Max looked at Natalie. “You already know, don’t you?”
One side of her mouth lifted and all Max could say to her was, “I’m so sorry, kid. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“You’re so sorry about what?” Charlie looked around the room. No one would look at her except Max. Even the Malones had their gazes fixed on the floor. “Tell me. So sorry about what?”
Her rage gone, Stevie simply burst into tears at Charlie’s questions.
That’s when understanding sank into Charlie’s brain and she slowly faced Natalie. Gently, she asked, “You’re our sister, aren’t you?”
Natalie nodded.
Charlie moved closer, stood over her. Max doubted her big sister knew how terrifying she must have appeared to the kid. When she was thinking and concerned, Charlie got such a look. To this day, just the thought of that expression still freaked out her teammates.
Max could tell that everyone was waiting to see Charlie’s reaction. What she would say to Natalie. What she’d say to everyone. But Max knew her sister really well. Maybe too well.
So she wasn’t surprised when Charlie spun around and walked out of the sunroom, pushed past the triplets, and kept going until they heard the back door slam open.
Then the scream came. Just one long, anguished scream. A scream Charlie only seemed to use when her father had done something particularly fucked up.