Page 39 of Frenemies

I had to admit. Sometimes, I loved my best friend like in that moment when she noticed the men and jumped up with wonderment in her eyes.

“Did you guys come for marshmallows? This one’s done.”

While the other two stared at each other, not quite sure what to do, the leader went with it.

He gave Ava a big smile, flashing her his pearly whites. “I would love a marshmallow.”

I was tempted to grab her when she walked past, that is until she snuck me a wink.

“Here you go,” she sang and held out her stick, which she quickly pulled back when the Reaper moved to grab it. “Ah, ah, ah. It goes in your mouth, not in your hands.”

Whatever hesitation flashed across his face disappeared with a shrug. When he parted his lips to accept her offering, I couldn’t look away. Ava gently placed the marshmallow in his mouth and then shoved the stick down as far as she could.

“How do you like that?” Ava growled while he choked and tried to swat the stick away. “Does it taste good, asshole?”

The next second she was beating him with it. Whipping the stick across his back, legs, and anywhere else she could reach until he growled out, “Fuck this.” He kicked his bike into gear and rolled away, with his buddies in tow.

Did that stop my friend? No. She ran down the street after them, waving her now broken twig. Seeing a tiny four-foot eleven blonde chasing off a bunch of burly bikers was not something I expected to see today. I don’t think it was something anyone expected to see.

“Ooh,” Ava stopped and looked towards the back of the burning building. “A swing set.”

“Wait, Ava,” I held out my hand and ran after her. “Stop.”

Tanner may have gotten to me with his little comment, but I got to Naomi. The glint in her green eyes before she pranced away put a small on my face. After all, I had to count the small victories in a place like this.

Yeah, Derek was looming over me like a fucking warden, and there was no doubt in my mind that the guys would be back for another heart to heart, but right now. . .

I could lay here in my dank cell, with the satisfaction of knowing that I won. And that was enough to get me through another day in this shit hole.

I didn’t even mind the stale sandwiches I was fed or the fact that Derek brought them to me. No one else came down looking for a hint of the guy they thought I was. I was left in peace. So, as far as I was concerned, this was a good day. That is until Derek’s voice echoed down the hall.

“You got another visitor, Chase.”

Well fuck, there goes my good mood.

I didn’t bother to sit up when the cell door clinked and slid open. What the fuck for? Who were they going to send next? Roach? Fucking Jaz? I could just picture her waltzing in here with her face screwed up in disappointment.

Wouldn’t be the first time. Half my childhood was spent getting that look from her. Jaz was the one that kicked my ass when I fucked around on Sam. Maybe I should care what she thought. I used to, but I didn’t really care about much these days. It was easier that way.

I sighed and grumbled out, “what part of fuck off don’t you people get?”

The only answer I got were the shuffling footsteps entering my cell of unwanted rehab. Whatever, if staring at me made them feel better, who was I to stop them?

“You look like shit.”

My brows knit at the unfamiliar voice. Who the fuck was that? Did they hire a shrink or something to try and pull me off my cot of misery? I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him, but eventually, my curiosity won, making me peek over.

My whole world stopped in that instant.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was staring into my old man’s bright blue eyes. This prick–whoever he was–was the spitting image of him, same blonde hair and angular jawline. He even had the same build as my old man before cancer ate away at him, that is.

The only difference was the spiderweb crawling up his neck. It was nice work, too. I couldn’t help but admire the intricate detail in each line. Someone knew what they were doing when they inked that in his skin.

“Who the fuck are you?” I was more interested in where the fuck he came from.

He tilted his head and arched a brow. “The name Maverick Mathers mean anything to you?”

Yeah, it meant something. Maverick was my old man’s brother, and last I heard, he was in Canada. We used to get the occasional letter from him. Maybe he kept sending them after my old man passed. Who the fuck knew? I wasn’t really around to read them.

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