Page 203 of The Sidekick

Max yanks the door open before we get there and leans out with an enraged look on his face. He takes two steps out and gets out of the way to let us go inside. Trevor is standing from his desk with a dark look that embodies the rage I felt seeing Tera’s cheek.

When he sees her, he hesitates.

A shrill beeping sounds out, startling Tera.

“I forgot,” she says to him apologetically. She pulls out her phone and stops a timer. “I made it back in time, though.”

The feeble finish to the sentence makes Trevor relax, and he retakes his seat.

“You got all your phone calls done?” He asks with a wary tone I don’t like.

“It turned out to be just one,” she gives him a happy smile.

“Did this woman attack you while you were on the phone?” I try to stay calm while I speak. Trevor’s rage comes back with a vengeance.

“What the fuck?” Max slams the door shut and locks it behind him. “Someone attacked you?”

“It’s not a big deal,” she looks at me pleadingly.

My lips flatten in anger. She’s trying to brush this under the rug. She’s not getting away with it.

“Seiza.” I walk past her to Trevor’s desk.

“U-Uh,” Max stutters.

I turn to find her on her knees with her hands on her thighs. She’s looking up at me in confusion.

I pull out one of the chairs, turning it to face her, and sit down. When I brace my elbows on my knees and lean forward, she starts to look worried.

“I want to negotiate a new rule.”

“Ok?” She watches me warily.

“What the fuck?” Max mutters weakly and falls back onto the couch. He tries to be discreet about adjusting himself in his pants.

“No one has the right to hurt you. If something like this happens, we need to know immediately. It might not be a big deal to you, but it’s a very big deal to us. Am I right?” I look back at Trevor for his opinion.

“Yes,” he says in a grim tone.

“Yeah, bebé. We can’t protect you if we don’t know what’s going on,” Max adds.

“So,” I lean back and try to be relaxed in the chair. “The new rule is when someone hurts you, you tell us. Can you agree to that?”

“I guess so,” she frowns as her eyes fall to the floor.

Not good enough.

“Would you be upset if someone hit Max?”

“Of course,” she scoffs.

“What’s the difference?” I ask patiently.

Her eyes meet mine with surprise. Now she’s getting it. I can see the idea that we care about her enough to care about what happens to her form. It’s sad and satisfying at the same time.

“There isn’t one,” her shoulders sag as the thought sinks in and makes a space for itself.

“Is this rule a go?” I give her a soft smile.

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