Page 56 of Devious Corruption
“No, I mean, sometimes they get too loud, and they need help a lot, but it’s okay. That’s what I’m for.”
“Because you’re the big sister?”
“Oh, I’m not older. They are, by two years.” I hiss when he touches the edges of the cut.
“And how often do your older brothers help you out?” He questions, picking up the bandages from the counter.
“I don’t need their help. I mean, it’s not their job, you know.”
“No. I don’t know.” Using the tip of his middle finger, he pushes my head to the side so the skin on my neck is tight when he applies the butterfly bandage. “You’re the younger sister. They should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”
“They had it a lot harder than me. I don’t mind helping them.”
“How did they have it harder than you?” With my head still tilted he leans closer into me, inspecting. “You have a piece of concrete in the wound. That’s probably why it’s still bleeding so much.”
“A piece of concrete? It’s a small cut.” I start to twist around so I can look in the mirror, but he grabs hold of my neck, holding me steady.
“It’s small, but it can’t stay. Hold still, I’m going to get it out.”
I break out in a cold sweat as soon as I see the pair of tweezers. “That’s okay. It’s fine.”
His hold loosens enough for me to leap off the counter.
“What’s the matter?” He reaches for me, snagging me by my elbow before I can get to the door. “Maxine, what’s wrong?”
“You’re not digging into my neck with that thing.” I point to the tweezers.
“It’s not in there deep, I can get it without hurting you. But it has to come out, Max.” He gentles his voice, but it’s a ruse, I’m sure to get me to comply.
“I’ll do it.” I reach for the tweezers, but he pulls them away.
“You won’t be able to see well enough.” He yanks me to him, my body flush with his. “Either get on the counter so I can do this, or I’ll pin you down and do it. Either way, it’s coming out.”
I shove at his chest. “Do you have to be such an ape all the time?”
“Apparently, with you, I do.” He wraps one arm around my waist and hauls me off the floor and plops me right back on the countertop again.
“I can do it if you’ll hold a mirror for me.” I try again, knowing full well he’ll do it whether I want him to or not.
“No.” He grabs hold of my chin and jerks my head to the side. “Stay like this, completely still and it will be done in a minute.”
I swallow and clench my fists until my fingernails dig into my palms.
He must notice, because he lays one hand on my knee. “Tell me about your brothers. You said they had a harder time than you, how so?”
“You want to talk about my brothers? Now?”
“Now’s a good time as any. Tell me.” He squeezes my knee then moves his hand back to my neck.
I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for the pain to start.
“Go on, Max. Tell me,” he says softly.
“They were put into the system earlier than me. Since they were seven. Their father was never in the picture, andtheir mother was a drug addict.” I freeze when the tip of the tweezers touches me.
When there’s no pain, I continue.
“By the time I met them, they’d been in half a dozen foster homes. A few of them worse than it had been living with their mother.” I shudder, remembering the horror stories Joey and Keith relayed to me the first few weeks we were together.
