Part 4 (1/2)
Mason, the man next to Roger, shook his head. ”Jesus, Ginger, you're disgusting.”
Max rolled his eyes at the redheaded idiot. He was tempted to blurt out the truth of how the tattoos were something he'd gotten after having s.e.x with another man, just to see Ginger's reaction.
Even without the excessive alcohol, Abby's older brother had a severe charisma deficit. A man-child who lived off his rich parents, he bounced around Seattle, cras.h.i.+ng parties and p.i.s.sing people off. n.o.body liked Ginger, real name Eugene. The only reason anyone tolerated him was for Abby's sake, and he stuck to her like a sucker fish in a dirty aquarium.
The gla.s.s door slid open, and Abby stuck her head into the patio. ”Carrie, think you can help me with some goodie bags for the children's art show tomorrow?”
”h.e.l.l yes.” Carrie finished her beer and stood. ”Too much testosterone out here anyway.”
”Go do your woman's work, woman,” Ginger called after her.
Carrie flipped him off, then disappeared into the condo with Abby.
”f.u.c.king chicks, man.” Ginger dropped his cigarette into his empty bottle, then staggered over to the cooler and grabbed another beer. ”I love it when they just shut up.”
Max gritted his teeth and checked his watch. Maybe if he called a cab now, he could get Ginger to leave before the misogynist a.s.shole decided to stay overnight.
Ginger looked at Roger. ”You going on Sat.u.r.day?” he almost whispered.
Roger frowned. ”I don't know...I've got Carrie now.”
Ginger scoffed. ”p.u.s.s.y.” He looked at Mason. ”You?”
Mason shrugged. ”Nah. I went last time. Need a cool-down.”
”You guys are f.u.c.king lame.” Ginger collapsed back into his lounge chair. ”Going alone sucks.”
Max knew what it meant when they talked in vagaries. He usually ignored them until the conversation drifted to something else. But since Val had asked him...”You need a wingman for a Blue Serpent thing?” Max asked Ginger.
The other three men froze and stared at Max. He'd broken the first rule of the Blue Serpent club.
”Well, do you?”
Ginger gave Max a sheepish grin. ”Uh, yeah, I guess, but, you know-my sister.”
”Why does that matter? What do you do there?”
The three club members exchanged looks, then leaned toward each other in a huddle. Max got the gist he was supposed to lean in as well. He smothered an eye roll at their childish secret-club bulls.h.i.+t.
”There are two different levels,” Mason said. ”There's the low, entry tier, then the top one.”
”We're in the entry tier,” Roger added. ”I'm hoping to get into the higher tier, but you have to be invited. I think I'm done with the low-tier s.h.i.+t.”
”Because you're a p.u.s.s.y now,” Ginger snickered.
”I am not-”
”But what do you actually do in this club?” Max cut in. ”What's the point?”
”Parties,” Roger said. ”Epic parties.”
Roger, Mason, and Ginger all nodded, in agreement for once.
Max arched an eyebrow. ”That's it? Why not just go to a regular club?”
”Dude, you have never been to a party like this, trust me.” Ginger punched Max in the arm. ”Come with me on Sat.u.r.day. I'll sponsor you, bro.”
Roger frowned. ”You sure that's a good idea? He's getting married to your sister in a couple of months...”
”This'll be his early bachelor party, one last time to let loose.” Ginger looked at Max and smiled. ”I won't tell if you don't.”
All three men stared at Max, eager and nervous to bring him into the fold. Everything told Max this was a bad idea, that he should run as far away as possible from all things Blue Serpent related. Even Toby looked anxious. But Val had asked for his help. Even though he'd pretended to blow her off, the truth was he'd do anything for her. Anything.
”Okay,” Max said. ”Show me how awesome the Blue Serpent is.”
Chapter Eight.
After dragging Ginger into the guest room and turning him on his side so he wouldn't drown in his own vomit, Max switched off the lights of his finally empty condo. In the master bedroom, he kicked the dog out and shed his clothes, then sat at the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, feeling unusually drained.
From the bathroom, Abby asked, ”Do you want to come with me to the children's art show tomorrow?”
Max rubbed the bridge of his nose, a headache building between his eyes. Too bad he'd thrown out all his real migraine medication to hide the OxyContin. ”Nah. I'm a bad influence.”
”Come on, it'll be fun. There'll be arts and crafts, and a bouncy castle, and chocolate pudding, I think. You can't pa.s.s that up.”
He smiled, but couldn't hold on to it and it faded away. Abby loved children-something he could never give her. He'd been up front about his vasectomy after they started getting serious. Though she said she'd be happy without having any of her own, he had his doubts. Toby made a poor subst.i.tute. Could be Abby faked it for him, told him what he wanted to hear so he'd let her get close to him. Maybe Val was right-the whole world really was out to get them. That thought made him smile again, bitterly.
He'd always been wary of trusting anyone, before Val. If he was being honest with himself, he'd admit he probably never would've dated Abby if Val hadn't made him realize he was capable of love-and desperate to experience it again. When he met Abby at a fund-raiser for impoverished schools, he remembered he used to like blondes. If he could love Val, why not someone else? The longer he dated Abby, the more he liked her-and the less he thought about Val. Until one day she mentioned marriage, and it occurred to him: Why not now? Why not embrace a good thing, try to have what other, normal people had? He didn't feel for her what he felt for Val, but love came in different forms. They made each other happy, and that was all he needed in his life now.
And the pills. But that was different.
Abby walked into the bedroom, running a brush through her hair and wearing only sheer panties and a camisole top. ”What did Valentine Shepherd really want?”
Max sighed. This conversation again. He should've lied and said he'd gone to get ice cream. Anything Val-related sprung up a gauntlet of questions. In truth, Max had lied to Val when he said Abby knew everything. He'd told Abby most things. She knew about Max's ability-his curse-but she didn't know Val could do it, too. She knew about his father's abuse, but not that Max had killed him. She knew something had happened between Max and Val during their time on the run together, but he wouldn't elaborate. Val's secrets were her own and not for Max to disclose, not even to his fiancee.
”I already told you,” he said, ”She wanted money.” That was true, in a way. He tried to stick as close to the truth as possible, and talk around the holes. But it was the holes that Abby always picked up on.
”But what did she want money for?”
”A missing person case she's working on. She didn't give me details.”
”Are you going to give it to her?”
”I don't know yet.”