INFURIATING //Peter Parker and MJ//

Chapter Sixteen: Mission 1O1

"I can't believe it." Amy murmurs for what has to be the hundredth time. "It can't be."

"Well, believe it because I'm sure it's him!" I say. We're in her living room with only a single big lamp turned on, illuminating shadows in every corner. She'd taken only fifteen minutes to find me sitting on the park bench, twisting strands of my lanky hair in anxiety. And without a word, she'd ushered me to her car, only asking me the whole way to her house if I was okay. She mentioned nothing about the suspect of her parents' murderer until we were safe in the refuge of her absurdly large house.

"What if it's not him?" She bites her lip, unsure.

"Amanda Faber," I lean forward seriously. "Have you ever heard me say something that's completely not true?" Seeing the look in her eyes, I instantly regret saying this.

"I don't know." She says in a slow, sarcastic manner. "Haven't I?"

"Except for that." I amend hastily. "But really, have you?"

She thinks for a moment, her thumb under her chin. "No." She says. "I actually haven't."

"Right? So you have to believe me on this one. It's Ben. Benson Crows."

"The guy who's about to marry my aunt." Her neck darkens into a flaming red.

"The guy who's also about to become your cousin's step-dad." I sigh. "Amy, what are we going to do?"

This time she answers swiftly and readily. "We're going to find records and files of the incident and if he has criminal records, those too. We're going to beat his ass." Her eyes gleam with anger and determination.

"You know, Amy," I say, shaking my head with honest admiration. "I never respected you enough."

She smiles. "Oh I know."

***

A sleek, black Mercedes with windows tinted darkly pulls up in her driveway, stuttering gracefully to a stop. I squint out through the curtains, seeing a tall figure stepping out of the car. It's impossible to see the man's accessories but when he's close enough to the house, I glimpse the fancy sunglasses he's sporting over his eyes. Who needs sunglasses at night?

"Aren't the glasses kinda over the top?" I mumble to Amy who laughs.

"You know my brother, MJ. He is over the top."

The doorbell rings, officially signaling Jacob Faber's arrival.

"Oh boy." I mutter as Amy opens the door. During my high school years, when Amy and I were best friends, I'd see her brother from time to time and I remember him as a self absorbed, temperamental teenager. In short, he wasn't exactly the most interesting person in the world.

"MJ!" He beams when he sees me. "It's been too long."

I look up from the floor and stretch my mouth into a tight smile. "Good to see you, Jacob." I observe him from afar. The sunglasses are now balanced on his head, and the suit jacket he wears over his perfect button down and tie is as regal as ever. He comes over to me in three long strides and pulls me into a bone crushing hug.

"So what's up?" He says when we separate. "Why'd you call me over, Amy? And what's MJ here for?"

"Well actually, brother," Amy says pleadingly, "we need your help."

"My help?" From his puzzled expression, I'm guessing Amy's never needed his help before.

"Yes," I say firmly. "But this will affect you, and not in a helpful way."

"What are you talking about?" He looks from me to Amy and from Amy back to me.

"MJ, here," Amy turns and smiles at me appreciatively, "has found the guy who drove the train that night of the incident. The guy who killed our parents."

The confused grin on Jacob's face fades and shock replaces it. "What?"

"You wanna tell him who it is, MJ?"

I take a deep breath. "You probably don't know him but he's kind of linked to you in a way. He's the fiancé of Isabelle Parker, your aunt."

Jacob is speechless, completely unable to speak. "What's...what's his name?" He manages to splutter.

"Benson Crows."

"Benson..." His eyes bulge, clearly recognizing the name. "Isn't he the guy who earns money off that illegal website, Zoblet, or something? The site with all those embarrassing photos of random people?"

Amy gasps. "Oh my gosh, I think he is that guy."

"Who?" I wonder.

"You know the anonymous person who spread that photo of you in that dumpster when you fell in?"

My heart drops. "That's him? The guy who literally made me want to die of embarrassment?"

"Yes! No wonder the name had such a ring to it."

"How come he's not in jail?" I demand, flushing as I recall the memory of being known as the girl in the bin at school back in seventh grade. I'd been horrified when I climbed up the giant bin as a dare and accidentally fell in. But it'd been more horrific when the next day, photos of me with a bit of rotten cabbage on my head had blown up all over the internet. When the photo was first uploaded in the infamous illegal website known as Zoblet.

"He's rich, remember? From that website. He paid off his guilt and managed to avoid jail!" Amy slaps her forehead. "And he killed my parents."

Jacob, whose hands have tightened alarmingly into fists, leans forward, fury plain on his face. "We're going to get as many records as we can, and we're going to get this man in prison for life. This time money isn't going to work. He goddamn murdered my parents."

I've never liked Jacob Faber during my teenage years. But the earnest look on his face, the revenge hungry heroism his voice conveys has changed everything.

"We're going to beat his ass." Amy repeats her earlier words.

"But how?" I ask. "How are we going to find those records and everything?"

Amy and Jacob exchange smirks as if they already have the answer to my question.

"Jacob's a detective." Amy says, patting her brother's shoulder.

"I know." I groan and perk up after a second of hasty thinking. "So this should be easy! He can break into stuff and-"

It's Jacob who interrupts surprisingly gently. "A detective can't necessarily do the kind of things you see in movies, MJ. I can't do those things."

"Oh." I shrivel with disappointment and embarrassment. "Of course. I should've known, I guess."

Jacob smirks. "But I do have some connection with black market." He slicks back a lock of loose blonde hair that droops over his forehead. "Now," he says, "shall we begin this dangerous and life risking task?"

Amy and I share an amused look. "Certainly." She says, slapping her hand against his.

"MJ?" Jacob demands impatiently. I look up from my phone, smiling guiltily.

"Of course. But there's someone I need to call first."