Friday morning snuck up on her, and Alex was gone for the weekend.
She stepped into the kitchen and saw her mother eating a bowl of cereal.
She hesitated in the door to watch her.
Her movements were wooden and jerky, her eyes blank as they fixed on the table.
Max close her eyes, then looked away.
“Mom, I’m going out, okay?” She spoke softly, and still couldn't bring herself to look at Lillian.
“Okay,” Lillian spoke quietly.
“My number is right by the phone if you need me,” Max said.
“Okay.”
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She grabbed her bag and left quickly.
She wasn’t sure what to do, so she went to the mall.
Normally on weekends, she would spent time with Alex. The young girl craved it like no other twelve year old; losing basically both of your parents would do that to you.
She ate while standing and walked around, unsure of what to do. Friday afternoon crowds jammed the building; besties and boyfriends walked together and chattered innocently.
Max’s heart hurt watching them. It made her think of a time when she had a bestie, a time long gone past.
Finally, she caved on a movie.
She went through the ritual of popcorn and a drink, and settled into her seat just as the commercials died down.
Idly, she searched her memory for the last time she’d been to a movie. Or to the mall. Or … anything for pure enjoyment.
The answer haunted her.
The movie screen flickered and she tried to pay attention.
Ten minutes in, the heroine was in a car speeding down busy streets, and she lost patience with it.
She grabbed her purse and stood, moving around those who blocked her way.
She walked out of the darkened theater with her drink and purse in hand and nearly ran into a man in the hall.
“Sorry,” she said reflexively.
In the dark it was hard to get a pin on his features, and she tried to move past.
“Your sister, Alexandria Lynn Roberts, is at a friend’s house on 114 Crescent Lane.”
Max froze and looked at the man.
He was tall, and well-muscled, but his face was blank. This one was used to following orders, not giving them.
“Come with me, please,” he said politely.
Silently, she did so. He brought her out the back door and down a series of halls until they were in the back parking lot.
Max looked around.
Besides a handful of cars, there was nobody around, and she decided it was time.
“Excuse me?” she said politely.
He turned to look at her and she threw her drink in his face.
Surprised, he covered his face with his hands as she rammed her knee into his crotch, the slammed his face into her knee.
Her hand came out of her purse, brandishing a wicked four-inch knife. She carried it with her everywhere – the hazard of a life involving Variable.
The man saw it and tried to knock it out of her hand.
She used the distraction, punched him with her free hand and shoved him into the brick wall of the building.
She gripped his hair firmly and slammed the side of his head into the wall, then slid her knife up to his throat, where it scraped lightly against his Adam’s apple.
His back pressed against her front, she didn’t even have to bend over as she held him.
“Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?” she growled in his ear.
He said nothing.
“Maverick.”
The voice came from the darkness of the parking lot and her eyes snapped to it.
“William,” she hissed.
He looked different. Every time she’d seen him before he’d been wearing suits or tuxedos. Now he just wore dark wash jeans and a dark shirt under a jacket. He looked normal.
He would soon look like hell, she hoped.
He approached her with his hands up.
“You need to calm down right about now. We don’t want any trouble,” he said.
Max laughed bitterly as she tightened her arm around the man’s throat.
“Then he shouldn’t have threatened my sister,” she said.
A flash of fury flamed through William’s eyes as he looked at the man she held a knife to.
“I promise that we don’t intend to hurt your sister,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed in on him.
“Why should I believe you? You’re Variable’s business partner,” she growled.
By now, her back was pressed against the wall, and she kept her arm firmly against the man’s neck, right below the knife.
He struggled under her arm, and she increased the pressure of both her arm and the knife.
“Careful, now. Wouldn’t want a pretty new scar, would we?” she whispered in his ear.
He stilled immediately.
Her eyes went back William.
“Why should I believe you?” she repeated.
Slowly, William pulled his wallet out of his pocket and opened it.
In the dim lights of the parking lot, a badge winked golden.
“My name is William Miles. I’m with the CIA,” he said.
