her hand.
“Drink this, Charlie. It’ll help.”
Charlie’s blank gaze focused on the glass of scotch and she locked on it for several long seconds.
Everyone in the room watched her watching the scotch. Berg had remained at Livy’s place because he’d found the sisters a place to stay and needed to take them there. Coop, however, refused to return to his own New York apartment because he wanted to “see what happens next!” His exact words. Dag and Shen were still hanging around because neither had anywhere interesting to go anyway. And Vic and Livy lived here.
They all watched Charlie, the room silent. Until she suddenly barked, “I need to bake.”
Her sisters quickly moved out of her way and she disappeared into the kitchen.
“There’s nothing in there,” Livy called out to Charlie, “that anyone can use to bake.” She glanced at the others. “What? I don’t shop a lot.”
“This is bad,” Stevie said softly. “When she starts baking . . .”
“So,” Coop guessed, “it was your dad? I’m so sorr—”
“Oh, no,” Max cut him off, her arm swinging out toward the big picture windows. “He’s still out there somewhere. Alive. Fucking up our lives.”
“Your father’s not dead?” Vic asked. Max and Stevie shook their heads. “And your sister’s upset because . . .”
“He’s not dead.”
Vic leaned back in his couch. “Didn’t see that coming.”
Charlie suddenly walked back out of the kitchen, a bag of unopened flour in her hands. “Do you all realize—”
“Uh-oh,” Stevie said softly, her head dropping.
“—that the only reason we’re all here is because of my father?” She pointed at Coop. “You had to cancel the rest of your world tour because of my father.” She pointed at Berg. “You were shot and stabbed because of my father.”
“I’m not sure we can blame him specifically—”
She pointed at Livy. “You got in a fight with your cousin because of my father.” Pointed at Vic. “Strangers in your apartment because of my father.” She gestured between her and Max and Stevie. “Recent attempts on our lives, most likely because of our idiot father.”
“We don’t know,” Stevie interrupted, “that Daddy had anything to do with any of this.”
Her sisters suddenly turned to her and stared. For a really long time. Until Stevie finally admitted, “It was probably him, but we don’t know it was him. That’s all I’m saying.”
Making a sound of disgust, Charlie turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen.
“Where did she find the flour?” Livy asked Vic. “We have flour? ”
“I don’t know why you’re all mad at me!” Stevie argued. “He is still our father!”
“I’m not angry at you,” Dag suddenly announced, thoughtfully gazing across the room. “But I don’t know you. So I don’t have any reason to be angry at you.”
A “beep” sound from the kitchen had Livy frowning. “We have a microwave oven?” she asked Vic. “When did we get a microwave oven?”
A moment later Charlie returned from the kitchen. Now she held a stainless steel mixing bowl in the crook of her left arm and a wooden spoon in her right hand. And whatever she had in that bowl was taking a hell of a beating from that spoon.
“No one is angry at you, Stevie,” Charlie stated, still mixing. “I don’t blame you for how you feel about that idiot.”
“I call him Dad,” Stevie said to the others.
“But we have a serious problem here. We’re not safe while he’s alive.”
“I could track him down,” Max said. “Kill him.” She glanced at Stevie. “Cry a little about doing that if it will make you feel better.”
Stevie’s eyes narrowed. “It wouldn’t.”
“No, no.” Charlie shook her head, still mixing. “I can’t ask you to do that. If there’s one thing our father knows how to do, it’s hide. You’ll never find him, and you’ll just get frustrated.”
“Because her frustration is everyone’s main concern in this particular conversation,” Vic muttered.
“We need a safe place to hide,” Charlie reasoned, her mixing arm never stopping. “With Dad still alive and the ones trying to kill us still out there, we have to find a safe house. We may have to leave New York.”
“I don’t think they’re trying to kill all of us,” Max suddenly announced to Charlie. “Just you and me. I think they want Stevie alive.”
Charlie briefly stopped mixing. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, you know when we—” Max abruptly cut off her own words and looked around the room. “Uh . . . you know . . . when we were in the Mercedes near where we picked up Stevie?” she asked vaguely.
“Yeah,” Charlie said.
“That time, they didn’t try to blow us all away. They tried to negotiate, which only makes sense . . .”
“If they wanted Stevie.” Charlie began mixing again. “Unbelievable,” she snapped. “He sold her again.”
Vic’s head snapped up. “Wait . . . what?”
But the sisters ignored him.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Charlie told her sisters.
“Wait,” Berg said before they could leave. “I have a place for you guys. A safe place.”
Charlie gave him a very small smile. “I don’t feel right getting you involved. You know . . . again.”
“It’s already set up. I promise, you can’t find a safer place.”
Max snorted. “Like we haven’t heard that before.”
“If my brother says it’s safe,” Dag cut in, “it’s safe.”
“Okay.” Charlie smiled even while Max appeared not to believe a word Berg was saying. But Berg didn’t care if the honey badger believed him or not.
“Just give me ten minutes to finish the cookies and we’ll go.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen and Max pointed at Berg. “You better be right about this. Or I’m going to get cranky.”
“You can’t find a safer place than this one,” he promised, meaning every word.
The pair stared at each
