“Maaaaaaaax!” a voice screeched seconds before Bane—sorry . . . Blayne—the woman he’d met at the steakhouse, attacked Max from behind, wrapping her arms and legs around the much smaller woman.
Slowly Max turned her head to look at him. “Now do you see?”
“Cocaine?” he asked, assuming that would explain the woman’s risky behavior.
“Nope. Sprite. Maybe Pepsi.”
“Actually,” Blayne said, dropping to the ground and gliding to a stop in front of Max, “none of those things. Shirley Temples. Six of them.” She pumped her fist into the air and screamed out, “Woooooo-hoooo!” Then she grabbed Max’s hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor. That’s when Zé realized the woman had on roller skates.
Why was she wearing roller skates? At a club?
“Want a shot?” Berg asked him, motioning to the bar.
“God, yes.”
The bartender poured four shots of tequila for Zé and the triplets. They each picked one up and were about to knock them back when Nelle and Mads abruptly ran up to them and began slapping the tequila from their hands.
“What the hell, man?” Dag demanded.
“You don’t want that tequila,” Nelle said, grabbing the bottle off the bar and expertly passing it off to Tock, who hustled it away while Streep put her hand to her forehead and seemed to pass out in front of Charlie, clearly attempting to distract her from what had just happened.
“Okay, then!” Nelle said before walking away.
“What the fuck was that?” Zé asked Berg.
“I’m guessing poison.”
“It’s tequila. How bad can it be?”
He shook his head. “No, I mean literal poison.”
“Sorry about that,” the bartender said, pouring the four of them fresh shots from a tequila bottle Zé recognized. “I didn’t know they’d put that shit behind the bar.”
“This is going to be an interesting night, isn’t it?’ Zé asked the triplets and the three just laughed.
* * *
Max watched Blayne perform what she seemed to think constituted dancing. It wasn’t. It was just a horrifying show of “Blayne moves.” Even worse, those moves were done to “Funky-town.” A song she only knew because her Pop-Pop had listened to that sort of seventies crap when he was driving Max, Stevie, and Charlie around before Charlie got her driver’s license.
“Come on!” Blayne urged. “Dance with me!”
“To this seventies shit? Don’t they have anything from this century?”
“It’s a seventies-eighties dance party!”
“That explains the white people in Afros.”
“Those are African wild dogs!”
“That means nothing to me.”
The music switched to Donna Summer—another singer she knew because of her Pop-Pop—and Max was done. She turned to look for the closest bar and then Zé, but instead found her baby sister. When they spotted each other, Stevie stopped and stared at her.
What are you doing here? she mouthed to Max.
Charlie, was all Max had to say in return.
With a laugh and nod, Stevie started off but abruptly stopped again and motioned to Max to come to her.
“What?” Max asked when she stood next to her sister.
“Livy asked about you.”
“Livy who?”
“Your cousin.”
Max frowned, confused.
“The one you’ve threatened with death many times?”
“Still unclear.”
* * *
Kyle sat at the bar nursing his virgin Bloody Mary and wondering when this night would be over.
“You’re here!” Oriana greeted, putting her hand on his shoulder. “We didn’t get to say ‘surprise’ to you.”
“Seriously?”
“I promised Mom I’d make sure you got a party.”
“I’d rather be home. Doing anything else.”
“I know, but Mom feels bad she couldn’t be here.” When Kyle simply stared, Oriana added, “I know. She’s rarely here for our birthdays.”
“It’s hard to turn down the King of Spain.”
“At least try to have a good time.”
“How? ”
“There are kids your own age.”
“Are they all African wild dogs?” When she shrugged, he said, “Yeah, I’d rather be home.”
“At least stay until we cut the cake. Stevie ordered it just for you.”
“Meaning?”
“I think it’s made to look like one of your pieces. The one that got some award.”
“Many of my pieces have gotten awards.”
“Oh, my God! I can’t with you anymore. Just stay until we cut the fucking cake,” she snarled before storming off.
* * *
Max found her cousin hanging over the balcony railing, her camera aimed at the crowd below.
Briefly, Max entertained the thought of shoving Livy over the railing but she knew that would only piss off Stevie and she’d never hear the end of it. Not in the mood for the yelling that would follow such a move, she simply called out, “Livy! You wanted to see me?”
“Gimme a sec.”
That “sec” turned into five long minutes and by the time her cousin had removed herself from danger, Max was cracking her knuckles, entertaining the idea of punching Livy in the face for keeping her waiting. Damn artist types.
“Sorry about that.”
“Took you long enough.”
“I said sorry, bitch.”
Max stepped into her cousin’s space but Livy quickly pushed her back. “Before you get out of control . . . I wanted to let you know that the aunts came to me.”
“All of them? Because we have a lot.”
“They sent one representative but she spoke for all.”
“I guess it’s about my mother?” Christ, her mother had only been back a couple of days and despite her being gone for two decades, Max had to admit . . . she was already sick of her!
“The aunts are hoping she goes back to Europe.”
“So they should tell her that. Why are they bothering me? Or you for that matter?”
“They’re bothering me because they don’t want to even suggest they’re opening a line of communication with you since they consider you more MacKilligan than Yang.”
“Bitches.”
“And they aren’t telling her anything because they don’t want to look like they’re forcing her out. Even though they’re hoping to force her out through you.”
“Through me?”
“They probably figure she’s not going anywhere unless you go with her.”
Exasperated, Max finally asked what she’d been thinking for days now. “When did I become the center of this chick’s life?”
“She’s your mother!” Livy yelled back with a laugh.
“Yeah . . . I guess. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s been great actually seeing her. But I don’t necessarily want to become traveling buddies with my mother. I work alone. Plus, I’ve got the playoffs coming up and we are getting into the finals.”
“Oh, that’s right. You play basketball. Right? I forgot how much I don’t care.”
“Don’t bitch at me because you don’t have any trophies.”
“Look, I’m just telling you what those old biddies wanted me to. What you do is up to you.”
Max sighed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to spend some time with her. She did just get out of prison.”
“I think that’s actually called a prison break.”
Max ignored that and continued, “And I have missed her. So maybe I could give it a year or so.”
“If you really want to.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to? I’m her daughter. Daughters should want to spend time with their mothers.” She frowned a bit. “Right?”
“Maybe asking me isn’t such a good idea. My mother and I don’t exactly get along. You know, since she keeps calling me ‘The Mistake.’” Livy briefly eyed her. “But, in all
honesty, it doesn’t really seem like you want to go.”
“I guess I don’t. I’ve got a lot going on here and I just met a guy. He’s extremely hot.”
“Did you try to throw this one out a window, too?”
“I never try, I succeed. And I haven’t had to do that with him. Plus, he’s a cat, so he’d land on all fours anyway.” She blew out a breath. “It’s my mother. I can at least give her a year. At least until she can get back on her feet financially. It has been a while since she’s done any real work. Safes and alarm systems have changed drastically in the last twenty years.”
“What are you talking about?” Livy asked.
“You can’t tell me the aunts have been giving my mother money since she’s been locked away.”
“Of course not. You know the family rules. But she has that guy’s money. Devon, right? I heard she took him out, by the way. Let the hyenas eat him.” Livy shuddered. “That is so gross.”
“Wait.” Max couldn’t give a shit about Devon. “What do you mean she has Devon’s money? She’s never had Devon’s money.”
“Yeah, she did. Before she got banged up in Romania, she handed it off to one of the Beijing Yangs. How do you think she got that Bugatti?”
“She stole it?”
“That would be less than subtle for a fugitive on the run. She bought that shit. With money. That she has. Because she has Devon’s money. The Beijing Yangs laundered it and put it in an account for her, taking only a thirty-five-percent cut.”
Max shook her head. “If that were true, don’t you think she would have . . . I don’t know . . . told me? You know, since Devon was trying to kidnap me to use me as leverage to get the money back.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know anything about that. But this all seems awkward now. I feel awkward.” She weakly gestured to some random spot. “I’m gonna . . . walk away now.”
Livy scurried around Max but before she could get away, Max called out, “Wait.”
“God, are you going to make this more awkward?”
“No. I just have a question.”
“What?”
“Would your mother do the same thing to you?”
Livy thought a moment before replying, “Probably.” Then she shrugged. “But that’s the way of the Yangs. Let me rephrase. That’s the way of the Yang women.”
“Would you do that?”
“No. But I’m an artist and according to our aunts, my life choices just make me an idiot they’re all ashamed of.”
Max shrugged. “But I wouldn’t do it either.”
“In all honesty, Max, you were raised by different people.”
“You were raised by Yangs.”
“But I’m also half Kowalski. No. Wait. Forget that. The Kowalskis aren’t any better. In terms of who really raised me, though . . . that would be the Jean-Louis Parkers. Kyle’s family. When I met Toni, my life changed. I changed. That’s why my mother hates them with the fire of a thousand suns.” Livy smiled, laughed a little. “She blames them for my being a—and I’m quoting here—‘loser that takes pictures.’ Aaaah. A mother’s love,” she joked. “But don’t worry about it. Your mother isn’t doing anything ultra-weird. She’s just being a honey badger.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Her cousin disappeared back down to the club and Max soon followed her.
As she went down the stairs, she saw Stevie again.
“Everything okay?” she asked. “Did you find Livy?” Stevie stopped a server going by with a tray of fancy-looking hors d’oeuvres. She took two off with a napkin and held them out for Max.
“What do I want with those?”
“They’re honey puff pastries.”
“Oooooh. Thanks, dude.” Max shoved both into her mouth at the same time and nodded. They were good.
When Max had swallowed her food, she asked her sister, “Can I borrow five bucks?”
“Hey!” Stevie called out to one of the people working the party. “Tell the DJ to forget this slow stuff. Remember, dance, dance, dance!” While she said this, she hopped on one leg, took off one of the bright orange Converse she’d taken from Max’s room, and removed a small stack of tens and twenties. She handed the whole thing to her sister.
“I’ll pay you back,” Max said.
“Whatever. I’ve got to make sure that cake arrived. I’m so proud of it!” She tugged Max’s sneaker back on and walked away.
Max tracked down Charlie. She was sitting at a small table, chatting with Kyle’s oldest sister, Toni.
When she sat down, Toni moved off and Charlie told Max, “I don’t hate her as much as I thought I did.”
Max waited for Charlie to add more about Toni. It seemed that she would add more. But other than “That’s all I have to say,” she didn’t.
The pair sat for a while until Charlie stated, “This music reminds me of riding in Pop’s car.”
“I know, right?”
Charlie glanced down at the small stack of cash that Max had laid on the table. “What’s that?”
“I owe you money.”
“Since when?”
“Not sure. But I owe you money.”
Charlie pushed it back toward Max. “Keep it.”
“It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it.”
“I owe it to you.”
“What is wrong with you?” Charlie snapped. “If I need money, I’ll ask for it.”
“Yeah, but—”
Charlie swiped up the cash and proceeded to shove Max forward so she could stuff it into her back pocket.
When Max began to argue, Charlie closed the fingers on her right hand, like she was clamping someone’s mouth shut, and snarled, “Zip it!”
The pair sat in silence for a bit until Charlie smiled and said, “Totally feel like we’re back in Pop’s car.”
* * *
Kyle had almost reached the exit when his eldest sister’s best friend, Livy, grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the club.
“I want to go home.”
“I know.” She pushed him against the bar. “And you can as soon as the rest of your siblings get here and you ooh and aah over the fucking cake. Think you can handle that?”
He blew out a breath.
“Oh, I’m so sorry people love you enough to throw you a party, Kyle.”
“You don’t have to sound so mean.”
Livy snorted. “Obviously I do. Just stop being ungrateful.”
“I’m not ungrateful. I just don’t want to be here. But, since you insist—”
Kyle jumped when he heard a symphony of thuds, and he quickly turned toward the round table a few feet away. Four women were facedown, each gripping a shot glass.
“Are they dead?”
Livy glanced over. “For the moment.”
“What?”
“Don’t get hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical. Maybe we should call an ambulance or something.”
“See? That’s hysterical. And those are Max’s teammates. She plays ball with them.”
“Which means what . . . exactly?”
She shrugged. “Badgers.”
The four women began to move, each of them slowly sitting up. When they all seemed alert, they slammed their shot glasses down on the table.
“Woo!” one of them cheered. “That was awesome!”
Kyle pointed. “So they’re drinking . . . ?”
“Tequila laced with rattlesnake venom.”
“Of course they are. Because that’s completely normal behavior at an eighteen-year-old’s birthday party.”
* * *
Dag stared at Zé for an uncomfortable amount of time, then said, “You know you’re kind of small to be going after Siberian tigers, right?”
“Amur,” his sister said.
“What?”
“They’re actually called Amur tigers.”
After gazing at his sister for an uncomfortable amount of time, Dag refocused on Zé. “I mean, black bears don’t fuck w
ith us. Because they’re smaller.”
“Thank you, Dag,” Zé said. “That’s fascinating information.”
“Okay,” Britta said, looking around the table. “Are we really not going to discuss this Freddy MacKilligan thing? I mean, is this some weird online thing? Is he going to end up on one of those news shows where they bust perverts? I just don’t understand why none of us are discussing it!”
“We’re not discussing it,” Berg reminded her, “because it sets Charlie off and no one wants to sit through another one of those Freddy-related rants.”
“They do go on,” Dag complained.
“Do you really think he’s actually having a thing with this girl?” Britta asked, her face twisted into an expression of utter disgust.
“Max thinks he’s just using her for her hacking skills,” Zé pointed out.
“That does make sense. Sadly. He’s not a man who understands basic boundaries.”
“I’ve only met the man once,” Zé admitted, “but I don’t like him.”
“No one does,” Berg said. “But do you think these Malones are related to Cella?”
Britta nodded. “Probably. I mean, how many Irish Siberian tigers could be running around Queens?”
Nelle sidled up to the table and took Zé’s hand. “Come with me,” she ordered.
Zé allowed Nelle to pull him away from the table, but he noticed how Britta’s gaze locked on poor Nelle.
“I think Britta believes you’re pulling me away for nefarious reasons.”
“Who?”
“The grizzly female?”
“Whatever.” She led him into one of the hallways and handed him a hotel room keycard.
“Whoa, Nelle. You’re really sweet but—”
“Please don’t make me give you the speech.”
“The speech? What speech?”
“You don’t want to know. Now, you take that, you go get my girl, and my driver will take you to the Kingston Arms hotel. I got you guys a suite with a hot tub. Feel free to get room service or drinks out of the minibar. It’s all on me.”
“You know I have my own money, right? I don’t actually need charity.”
“Of course I know that. But you don’t have access to it at this minute and watching you two constantly be thwarted by family and friends is getting painful.”
Zé smiled and kissed Nelle on the cheek. “Thanks, Nelle. I appreciate it. And—”
“I know. You’ll pay me back. Now go. My driver, Gavin, is outside, and you better head out before the karaoke starts.”
Badger to the Bone Page 32