gist of the story from the visuals.
He looked at Coop and the jackal stared back, both of them silently asking the question.
Then, after several seconds, they both said together, “Nahhh.” And continued on toward the awaiting jet.
* * *
“Get out. I have to set this thing on fire.”
Charlie stared at her sister. “Are you just on a rampage? What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. We have another car waiting right there. We’re totally covered.”
With another pleasant smile, Max walked off.
“She’s going to get us killed or put in prison for the rest of our lives,” Stevie informed Charlie. “I just want you to know that.”
“I wish I could argue with you,” Charlie admitted. “But I can’t.”
They got out of the car, each grabbing a duffle bag from the back of the SUV, and headed in the direction Max pointed out to them.
As Charlie walked, she smelled smoke from behind her just before Max ran up to them. Another bag was hanging from her shoulder. And the . . .
Charlie stopped and her sisters stopped with her. “You brought the rocket launcher?”
“You expect me to leave it? Do you know how much these things cost? Especially these really compact ones? Are you nuts?” she scoffed before heading off again.
“You know,” Stevie noted, “we could kill her here and bury her and no one would ever know.” She frowned, shook her head. “I guess that was a horrible thing to say.”
“No, sweetie. It was just a honey badger thing to say. Nothing to worry about. I say honey badger things all the time but never do them.”
They followed Max, reaching a brand-new Range Rover painted a very bright red.
“Subtle,” Charlie said to Max. Her sister grinned, oblivious, and quickly began packing the trunk, stopping to answer her vibrating phone.
“We’re all going to jail, aren’t we?” Stevie suddenly asked as she and Charlie finished up the trunk packing.
“Not if I can help it,” Charlie promised. “I’ve worked too long and hard for any of us to go to prison now.” She paused a moment, then added, “But if we have to sacrifice someone, it’ll be Max. She could handle prison way better than either of us.”
After a few minutes, Max returned to their side and Charlie knew, as soon as she saw her sister’s face, that something had changed.
“What?” Charlie asked when Max didn’t say anything.
Max glanced at Stevie, then back to Charlie. “I just got a call . . . from New York.”
“Oh, God,” Stevie began. “Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, G—”
“Stevie,” Charlie said, raising one finger. “No.”
She could see her sister was readying herself for another panic attack, and Charlie simply didn’t have the patience for it right now. Especially when Stevie could go from zero to hysterical in six seconds.
She was the Ferrari of panic.
“Breathe,” she ordered Stevie before facing Max. “Who do we know in New York?”
“Not a lot of people. But . . .” She cleared her throat, glanced at Stevie who was now doing her deep breathing exercises. “It’s Dad . . .”
Charlie briefly closed her eyes. “Let me guess. He’s in jail. He wants bail. Well, fuck him! I’m a thousand percent positive that we’re on the run because of him. So he can stay in jail until he rots.”
“He’s dead,” Maxie abruptly announced. “They need someone to identify the body.”
Stevie put her hand to her chest and turned away from them, her head bowed, shoulders beginning to shake, her pain and grief clear to anyone who might be near.
Charlie and Max, however, didn’t hesitate to silently bop around each other, performing dance moves they really shouldn’t because they just didn’t have the talent for it. However, it wasn’t a dance of skill, but of excitement. Of relief. Of downright giddiness.
Neither sister spoke as they boogied around each other because words weren’t necessary. But despite their silence . . .
Stevie slapped her hand against the Range Rover and snarled, “I know what you two are doing back there and stop it! He’s still our father!”
chapter FOUR
It took a few days to make it into the States, and it hadn’t been easy. But Max had a lot of connections, which always helped when they were in foreign countries. Thankfully they were back now and able to drop their bags in the middle of the safe house Max had found through her birth mother’s family.
“Wow,” Charlie said, looking around. “This place is awesome. Your aunt hooked us up.”
Max nodded. “It’s not bad.”
Stevie sat in the farthest corner and deepest part of the couch, her knees up, arms around her calves. “I don’t like it.”
“Why not?” Charlie asked.
Her nose crinkled. “It smells funny.”
“That’s just badger.” Max took another sniff. “And something bear-ish.”
Stevie’s eyes grew impossibly wide. “Bears eat people.”
“I’m taking a shower,” Charlie announced because she couldn’t start down this road with her sisters. “Then we’ll figure out next steps. Okay?” When she got nods from both, Charlie grabbed her duffle and headed deeper into the Manhattan apartment.
The place was beautiful. Big, comfortable furniture. Lots of windows allowing for light. And tons of cabinet space for the honey badgers to sleep in.
Charlie was surprised the Yang family had helped Max get this place for them to stay in. Even temporarily. Maybe Max hadn’t mentioned that her sisters would be with her, but she didn’t usually hide that from anyone. The Yangs had made it clear long ago that they would be more likely to help Max when she needed it if her half-sisters weren’t involved. They’d never quite forgiven Max’s mother for hooking up with Fred MacKilligan. Among the honey badger population, the MacKilligans didn’t have the best reputation. Especially when it came to good ol’ Freddy. The most useless of beings as far as Charlie was concerned.
To this very day, she still didn’t understand what her amazing, feminist mother—or any other woman for that matter—saw in her worthless excuse of a father. He was . . . worthless! She had no other word for it. Or maybe she had too many words for the man. Many ways to describe how worthless he truly was.
But that was over now. Her father—thankfully!—was rotting away in a
