Max (A Carter Brother series Book 4)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Stop talking nonsense, sweetie, I don’t mind. I love treating my girls. You and Harlow should be spoilt,’’ she smiles and I feel my eyes water. She’s not even known me that long and already she’s stationed me inside her family. Her girls. My heart shouldn’t like her saying that but it does; it also brings a new wave of sadness to my heart. My mom used to call me her girl. I was always her girl. With it only being my brother and I, I seemed to get spoilt more with clothes, girly stuff and what have you. It’d been great until it hadn’t. I don’t know what my mom would call me now but I know my girl won’t be it.

  “You want me to stay?’’ I breathe out, not meaning to say it out loud.

  “Who wanted you to go? Fuck me,’’ Max says, walking in from behind me and making me jump. I turn around, my hand over my heart, and give him a glare.

  “You scared me half to death. And what are you looking at?’’ I ask, taken aback by the intensity of his stare.

  “Fuck me,’’ he breathes again, and I notice his eyes on my hair, following it all the way down to my ass where his eyes stayed glued.

  “Max, pick your jaw up and wipe that mouth,’’ Joan teases and I snap my head back around to hers.

  “Um, yeah, what were you saying?’’ he asks, but his attention is still on my hair by my ass.

  “Did you order the food with Mark or not?’’ Joan asks and Max snaps out of whatever he’s in when she mentions food, his eyes lighting up.

  “Yeah,’’ he grins then sits down at the other end of the sofa. “You gonna stand there all day?’’ he asks, looking at me, his eyes raking up and down my body.

  “Sit here, let me put your hair in a French braid before you catch pneumonia,’’ Joan says and my heart rate picks up. My mom used to love playing with my hair. It wasn’t as long as it is now but it was still long enough for anyone who would see it to comment on it. I get it a lot. People wishing they had my hair or asking if it’s my real hair.

  Not trusting my voice, I sit on the floor in front of Joan with my back to her. I hear her rummage through the bags next to me and hear her triumphant ‘whoop’ when she finds what she’s looking for. Then I feel the brush running through my hair.

  It’s not long after she gets all the knots out that the motion of the brush running through my hair brings tears to my eyes. I loved it when my mom would sit and brush it for no reason other than to brush it. It would send me to sleep, relax me after I had a bad day. Having Joan doing the exact same thing forms a lump in my throat and tears threaten to spill over my cheeks.

  “I spoke with everyone at the food bank,’’ Joan starts. Max grunts, causing a small smile to twitch at my lips.

  “Who said I did it?’’ I ask quietly, knowing full well one of them blamed me, if not all of them. It had been their intentions all along.

  “Liv and Jessica. Sarah didn’t say much but then I don’t think they got her involved. Put a little pressure on that girl and her mouth has verbal diarrhoea,’’ Joan tells us, making me choke back a laugh. Oh Lord, this woman really has no filter. Max laughs out right, agreeing with her. It turns out the two went to school together or something.

  “What did Miss Robins say?’’ I ask, hoping she didn’t blame me. She’s a lot like Joan: fun, easy going, but if you get on the wrong side of her you’d better watch out.

  “Honestly, I never gave anyone a chance to say anything, but Miss Robins and Mr Dickens spoke up before I could say anything. They both disagreed and were outraged that the girls could accuse such an innocent girl,’’ she tells me and I hear the smile in her voice.

  If only she knew I wasn’t an innocent girl. What I am is far from innocent.

  “So what’s happened?’’

  “Well, I’ve told them they can’t volunteer anymore and that the church won’t condone a hostile environment, but Jessica seems to think her father won’t allow it. He’s one of the big donors for the church. We will just have to see what happens, although, if I know her father, he won’t tolerate her behaviour either.’’

  At least she’s honest. Most people would avoid telling you the truth just so they didn’t have to deal with the aftermath.

  “That’s good,’’ I smile, leaning forward as she finishes the French braid.

  The doorbell rings and I look up, shocked. Who the hell would be out in this storm? They’re crazy. Joan was crazy for going shopping, so whoever this is must be an adrenaline junkie like her.

  Max gets up the same time as Joan and I do. When Mark walks in carrying two bags of takeout food, my belly rumbles. I should have guessed it was Mark when I mentioned adrenaline. I laugh inside thinking about how perfect the two are together.

  “Right, I best be going. I’ve got some pyjamas in that bag so make sure you try them all on,’’ Joan says and I look between her and Max, who is leaving the room with the food bags, in confusion.

  “Let me get my coat, I’ll walk over with you,’’ I tell her, ready to get out of here. Anymore alone time with Max and I’ll shoot myself, or jump him. The jury is still out on which one.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Denny will be staying over at the hotel by the hospital. It seems the weather is much worse that end, blocking the main bridge. You and Max are on Hope duty. I’ve gotten you some food, a few movies and spoke to Denny to let her know you’ll be okay. She said to stay in her bed and let Max sleep on the floor,’’ she winks and grabs her coat.

  “Wait!’’ I shout and she turns to me, waiting for me to speak. My mouth opens but nothing comes out. “Nothing,’’ I grumble, not wanting to be one to complain, not after everything they’ve done for me. This is the least I can do for them.

  I nearly change my mind when Max comes in with two plates of food. He gives me a wink and I inwardly groan. This is going to be a long night.

  *** *** *** ***

  “Ladies should go first,’’ I shout at Max outraged. So far, he’s eaten my food once he devoured his, then finished my can of Pepsi and now the sod wants to choose the movie. It’s only fair that I get to choose.

  “No, I put Hope to bed,’’ he smirks, skipping through the movies Joan had brought over.

  “She’s your niece,’’ I deadpan. “Now, let me choose.’’

  “I’m not watching that,’’ he tells me outraged.

  “Yes, you are. It’s really good.’’

  “It’s a bunch of overgrown apes stripping,’’ he tells me and I roll my eyes.

  “It’s not the bloody Planet Of The Apes, Max,’’ I tell him, punching him in the arm.

  “Ouch,’’ he wheezes, rubbing his arm. “No, it’s worse because they have actual man parts,’’ he grumbles, looking at the DVD like it’s an offending object.

  “Oh my God, Max, just watch it, please,’’ I beg, giving him the puppy dog eyes that always worked with my dad. I can see his resolve melting. It’s working like a charm.

  “Argh, don’t do that,’’ he tells me groaning.

  “Come on, I promise we can watch whatever you want after. Even if it’s the scary horror movie Joan put in. What’s it called? Insidious Three?’’

  He shudders which has me leaning back a little. Is he turned on by the thought of watching a horror movie or is he scared? Nah, he can’t be scared. He looks too tough to be scared of anything.

  “I’ll do you a deal,’’ he says, looking at me mischievously. “I’ll watch Magic Mike if you watch that strip show with Christina Aguilera in it.’’ He’s looking at me with a smirk, looking much too pleased like he thinks I’ll say no.

  No one says no when it involves having to watch Channing Tatum. EVER!

  And huh? What strip show with her in it? I look through the DVDs and grin when I come to Burlesque. I used to watch this film on a continuous loop when I was back at home. I’d sing along, dance, and then do it all over again when the movie restarted. Christina Aguilera has an amazing voice. Watching this movie is no hardship.

  “Deal,’’ I shout, a big grin covering my face as I hold my hand out.
<
br />   He takes it, looking at me sceptically. “Why do I feel like I just got played?’’

  “Watch and learn, my friend, watch and learn,’’ I tease, walking over to put the movie in. I walk back over sitting on the other side of the sofa. Before I have chance to curl up, Max is pulling me to the other side of the sofa. I squeal, surprised.

  “What are you doing?’’ I ask shocked, and a little pissed. How dare he man handle me like that?

  “Easy, tiger, we’ve got one spare blanket. Whatever Denny did with her sleepover ones I haven’t a clue. It’s freezing and you’re only wearing a thin pyjama set,’’ he tells me, eyeing my body like it’s not covered in said pyjama set.

  Pervert!

  “Oh, okay,’’ I give in. I am cold and I’ve been pressed against Max for all of two seconds and already my body is heating up.

  He nods his head and throws the blanket over the both of us. I snuggle in and watch the movie.

  “I cannot believe we watched all that and not even any nudity. I’m disappointed.’’

  “You were complaining before about seeing men parts, Max,’’ I say, fighting back a grin. He’s right, though, the movie wasn’t all that good, but to be honest, I never really noticed anything past Channing Tatum.

  “Come on, you have to agree. We sat through all that bullshit for two minutes of them prancing around at the end. I might have to become a stripper, though.’’

  “You that hard up for cash?’’ I splutter, bug eyed. Why is the thought of him stripping actually pretty goddamn hot?

  “Nah, but think of the women that would ride my dick each night,’’ he grins and my bug eyed expression turns flat.

  “You seriously are a pig.’’

  Hope’s cry comes from upstairs and Max looks at me. “What?’’ I snap.

  “Your turn. I’ll put the next movie on,’’ he grins, showing off all his pearly whites.

  Smacking his leg I throw the cover off us and jump up. Hope’s cries get louder the farther up the stairs I get. Joan promised earlier she was a good baby, but if this is what they call a good baby then I’d hate to see what they call unsettled.

  Walking into her room and over to her cot, I find her wailing her lungs out, her face bright red with her hands and feet everywhere. I lift her up under the arms and hold her against my chest.

  “Come on, little cookie, everything’s not that bad. You’ve got a home, a mommy and daddy who love and adore you, and you pretty much eat and sleep. Life’s good,’’ I tell her, trying to console her. Nothing works and I find myself sitting down – after ten minutes of pacing – in the rocking chair. Hope’s room is pretty freaking cool. If I had a kid I’d want their room to look like this. Her name is beautifully written above her cot. In fact, the whole design spread around the room is pretty amazing.

  “Come on, baby. Your mommy doesn’t even know me and if she finds out that you’ve been crying for more than five seconds because I couldn’t calm you down, she’d probably string me up. You don’t want that. No one does,’’ I coo quietly.

  Forgetting my hair is in the braid, Hope tugs at it like its rope. I giggle down at her when she stops crying and she keeps tugging. She tries to chew and suck on the end, but I pull it away before she can get her slobber all over my hair.

  “You’ll get a fur-ball,’’ I laugh. “How about you go to sleep for me and I’ll think about us being best friends, huh? Yeah?’’

  A laugh at the door startles the shit into me. I’m flying up from the chair thinking its Denny or her bloke, but instead I find Max looking comfortable, perched against the doorframe.

  “How long have you been there listening?’’ I blink in surprise.

  “Long enough to hear you blackmail my niece,’’ he grins blissfully.

  “Pfft,’’ I wave him off. “We have an understanding,’’ is all I add quietly, noticing Hope settling down.

  “Come on, I’ve made some popcorn and got some snacks.’’

  “You’re going to eat, again?’’ I add for good measure. Since we left for the food bank this morning, he has to have eaten every fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes. Where the fuck he puts it all is anyone’s guess. Most girls would kill to be able to eat what they want and not put any weight on. Max having that ability is just plain mean. He’s already got the looks, the body, he doesn’t deserve to be able to eat everything his belly desires. It’s just unfair. It’s like God decided, when he was giving out people’s genes, to dose Max with everything.

  Selfish.

  Greedy.

  Unfair.

  Yeah I’m jealous. When I had a healthy appetite I only had to look at something and I’d put ten stone on.

  “Well, yeah. I’ve not eaten since we began the movie,’’ he shrugs, watching as I put Hope back down in her cot.

  “Whatever,’’ I mutter under my breath as I follow him back down the stairs.

  **** **** ****

  After tricking Max into watching a horror movie, we finally call it a night. Hope has been waking up every so often, screaming. A part of me thinks she knows something’s going on: that her mom is upset. It has to be, right? Because even Max said she’s not normally like this. The storm brewing outside comes to mind too because the wind howling and branches hitting the windows is pretty scary.

  Speaking of scary, the door to the bedroom Joan said I could sleep in creaks open and in a moment of panic my heart stops. That is until I hear his voice whisper across the room, my body relaxing somewhat. But then it tenses for another reason entirely. Why is he walking into the room this late?

  “Lake,’’ he whisper yells, and I choose to ignore him. I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to turn him down if he starts something with me. Every time he’s around me I turn to mush or he opens his mouth and I want to strangle him.

  I’m facing the other way so he can’t see my face but, still, I shut my eyes tightly. He steps into the room, his feet moving closer towards the bed.

  “Lake?’’ he calls a little louder but then silence fills the room.

  Just when I think he’s given up, his hand touches my shoulder and he violently shakes me. If I wasn’t already awake he’d have a black eye and sore nuts for a week right now. Doesn’t he know not to sneak up on girls when they’re sleeping?

  I’ve always had to be on guard, even in my sleep. Once, while staying at a refuge, someone tried to pinch the money that was tucked into my bra. It didn’t turn out so well. They had scared me awake, frightening the life out of me, and my instincts had me attacking first. Ever since that night I’ve been worse. I’ve become a light sleeper and a part of me misses the deep sleeper I used to be. A full goodnight’s sleep is something I really bloody miss.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Max. What are you trying to do? Give me a fucking heart attack?’’

  “I thought I saw a spider on you,’’ he tells me. I feel him shifting on the bed, getting himself comfortable, which just gets my back up.

  “So, you snuck into the bedroom to watch me sleep and you were paying that much attention you happened to see a spider? In the dark? You do realise spiders are black, right?’’ I snap, turning to look at him.

  “Look, I keep hearing noises and it’s freaking me out,’’ he tells me honestly, scrubbing a hand down his face.

  Seeing he’s deadly serious, I roll over into my pillow and burst into laughter. Oh, my God, I thought he was exaggerating over the movie. He doesn’t seem like the kind to be scared of a little blood and gore. I laugh even harder when I think back on the time I shouted at him for touching my leg in a tight grip. I thought he was copping a feel, but it turns out he was telling the truth and that the movie made him jump.

  “Stop laughing,’’ he groans, shoving my shoulder.

  I turn sideways to look at him, not able to hold back my laughter. “I’m sorry,’’ I laugh. “But, you’re you…and you’re scared… of dolls,’’ I cry harder, laughing.

  “There’s no need to be fucking mean. I’m never going to look at
Hope the same. One of them looked a little like her, didn’t you see?’’

  “No,’’ I choke out laughing, my ribs and stomach hurting.

  “Oh, come on, the one could turn its head all the way around. It was fucking scary, Lake. I’m glad Granddad let us chuck the porcelain dolls out that my nan used to collect,’’ he curses right before I hear the bed shake from his shudder.

  “It’s a movie, it’s not real and it still doesn’t explain you becoming a creeper coming into my room,’’ I scold playfully, still not able to hide the grin from my face. My cheeks are hurting so bad from smiling and laughing but it feels good.

  “I wasn’t being creepy. I just wanted to know if you were awake.’’

  “And when I didn’t answer the first time you didn’t clue in?’’

  “I thought you were ignoring me,’’ he shrugs looking away and I know he’s lying which makes me smile. “Plus, I told you, I keep hearing noises.’’

  “What kind of noises?’’

  “Creepy ones,’’ he shudders, lying back down on the pillow and shoving his hands behind his head. The movements cause his top to ride up a little and what I wouldn’t give for a little light right now.

  Just get comfy, I think sardonically when he starts shifting pillows.

  “And how do creepy noises sound?’’

  “Like, I don’t know, creepy. The floorboards kept creaking and, I swear, the walls were talking to me, with a tick-tock sound clicking in the background.’’

  “One: it’s because we’ve all come to bed. My mom used to tell me it was the floorboards relaxing having so many people walking on them all day. Two: you do realise the tick-tock sound could actually be the clock above the fire place making the noise?’’

  “What is your mom like?’’ he asks, catching me off guard. My body tenses and I find myself unable to answer for a few seconds.

  “Don’t change the topic,’’ I snap a little too heatedly.

  “Look, I’m scared as fucking shit. In fact, I’ve checked my fucking boxers twice just to make sure I’ve not shit me self. All I’m asking is for you to reach into your heart and let me have the right side of the bed.’’