Hot and Badgered. Shelly Laurenston

“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 New York City morgue. Just waiting for her and her sisters to identify and bury him.

      Charlie couldn’t wait.

      She knew it sounded cruel to those who didn’t know her father. Who didn’t understand why she disliked the man so much. But she had her reasons and those reasons were all she needed.

      If nothing else, she hoped his death would end the bad luck that seemed to follow the man around and, in turn, follow his daughters around as well.

      Daughters who hadn’t asked to be born. Definitely hadn’t asked for him to be their father. Three girls who’d had no say in what they’d already been through.

      Yes. She blamed her father for all of it, but she wasn’t about to let that get in her way. Because it was a new day! She just had to be cool about it.

      Stevie didn’t like their father any more than Charlie and Max did, but she took the fact that he was their sperm donor much more seriously. She would want to mourn his death, and they had to respect that.

      Which reminded her . . .

      Naked, Charlie walked out of the bathroom, where the shower was now running. She went into the living room and found that Max and Stevie already had each other in headlocks. Max grinning. Stevie cursing Max.

      “The never-ending, battling sisters,” was what the Pack had called Max and Stevie. And it was true. The pair of them could and would go at it until someone separated them or an ambulance had to be called. The thing was, an ambulance rarely had to be called for either Max or Stevie. If there was one thing that was true about all MacKilligan females . . . they could take a beating. But teachers, coaches, strangers on the street, anyone who thought it was a good idea to get between the sisters to stop them from fighting always found out the hard way that it was not.

      But Charlie wasn’t some stranger on the street. She knew how to handle her sisters. It was the first thing her mother had taught her when she realized how poorly the two got along.

      Going behind both women, Charlie grabbed Max by the tough skin of her back and swung her one way, then the other. Poor Stevie forced to go with her.

      And while Charlie swung, she kept chanting, “Let her go, let her go, let her go.” Until Max did what she was told to do.

      “On the couch,” Charlie ordered, pointing at Stevie. “You, on the chair.” She motioned to the leather armchair until Max sat down.

      Once both her sisters were sitting away from each other, she said, “Now listen up. I’m going into the shower. It will be a long shower. A luxurious shower.”

      “Why not a bath?” Stevie asked.

      “I don’t like baths. I don’t like soaking in my own filth.”

      Max started laughing but stopped when Charlie snapped, “Shut up. Now, while I’m in that shower, you two will not argue. You will not fight.” She pointed at Max. “You will not startle.” She pointed at Stevie. “You will not throw things. No matter what she says to you,” she added quickly before Stevie could argue. “Let’s just be glad that we made it back to the States without killing each other or getting arrested. Let’s enjoy this moment for what it is.”

      “The death of our father?” Max asked.

      Charlie glared at Max for a moment before they both raised their arms in the air and cried out, “Hurray!”

      “Ladies!” Stevie barked, disgusted.

      “Sorry. Sorry.” Charlie didn’t want to upset her sister. She wanted a shower too badly. A nice, normal, relaxing shower. And she couldn’t have that if she was worried the two of them were attempting to kill each other in the next room.

      “We’ll get through this, Stevie,” she promised her baby sister.

      Stevie nodded and moved deeper into the couch corner until she couldn’t move any farther. She placed her feet on the cushions, wrapped her arms around her calves, and rested her chin on her raised knees. Charlie pointed at Max one more time, letting her know in no uncertain terms that if anything happened while she was showering, Charlie would absolutely blame Max for it. Because most likely it would be Max’s fault.

      Max reached for the remote and turned on the enormous, high-end TV in the middle of the room.

      “Oh, look,” Charlie pointed out. “Law & Order.”

      “Thank God,” Stevie muttered. Funny, since Stevie always went on and on about how she didn’t watch TV.

      “Excellent!” Max chimed in. “One of the early episodes. Before cell phones and social media!”

      Knowing they’d be entertained for a few hours at least, Charlie headed off to her very hot and relaxing shower.

      * * *

      Max was so tempted to fuck with her sister, but Charlie’s warning had been very clear. Charlie was all about being clear. She didn’t like vague. She didn’t like subtle. She didn’t like when people weren’t direct. Why? Because Charlie was always direct.

      When Charlie had told her once, “If you bother Stevie while she’s taking that test, I’m going to break your arm,” she’d meant it. Max had been forced to wear that cast for, like, two days, the break was so bad. But she’d learned her lesson. A Charlie warning was serious stuff, and you ignored it at your own peril.

      Deciding to help make this easier for everyone involved, Max got up and grabbed Stevie’s backpack.