Is he serious? “That’s no way to live.”
Steve halts me in front of the hospital vending machine, his hazel eyes hardening fiercely. “Are you questioning my duty to keep my daughter safe?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” He gives my back a slap. Then he pulls out his wallet. He opens it, peels off a five dollar note, and tucks it into the top pocket of my shirt. “Here. Buy yourself something to eat.”
With a nod, he walks off down the same hallway toward the x-ray room.
I shake my head and turn back to the vending machine. After inserting the note, I choose a packet of salted peanuts. Mac likes them. I watched her snacking on them by the pool before she got beaned by the volleyball.
“Really?” Mitch’s voice behind me is packed with anger. “My little sister is lying in a hospital bed, bruised and broken because of you, and you’re out here worried about your stomach?”
My eyes close for a brief second. Princess, you better be worth it.
I collect the peanuts and turn. “Dramatic, much? She’s not on death’s door, Valentine. She has a fracture.”
The comment has Mitch visibly fuming. I cop a jab to the chest. “You need to stay away from Mac.”
I know that better than he does. But it’s too late. For some reason that knowledge has a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. I try fighting it, but not hard enough.
He fumes harder. “You think this is funny?”
“No. Actually, I agree with you. I need to stay away from your sister.”
Mitch’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback at my agreement. “Good.”
“The thing is…” I wave the peanuts in his face “…I don’t want to.”
And with that I walk off down the hall toward x-ray, whistling lightly and wondering at my own idiocy.
Clearly, I’m screwed, but what the hell, right? Life is meant for living and nothing makes me feel more alive than when I’m with Mac.
MAC
“It’s the cast,” I complain to Jake when I lose at another round of Deadliest Warrior, a video game I’m teaching him to play. After having had the plaster on for two weeks, I’m slowly losing the will to live. Who breaks their wrist in the middle of a heatwave? The combined itching and sweating has me on a rampage that no one, bar Jake, has been able to put up with. “It’s wrecking my co-ordination.”
A pathetic lie, but I’ve been playing this game forever and somehow Jake has beginner’s luck. I’ve learned from long ago never to admit defeat. Not in this house. It’s better to quit playing rather than risk losing another round, so I toss my controller on the sofa beside me and let my head loll back against the cushion.
“You don’t want another round?” he asks.
“I’d rather have a tooth pulled,” I mumble under my breath.
“What was that?” Jake’s eyes crinkle with amusement. He heard me.
“You mean does she want another thrashing?” Jared snorts from the recliner beside the sofa. He reaches across and snatches my abandoned controller. “Mac, you suck at this game.”
Straightening in my seat, I curl the fingers of my right hand around the cast and hold it up in a threat. “Come a bit closer and say that.”
Jared laughs and leans forward, within swinging distance. I know his plan is to pull back at the last minute so I’ll look lame hitting air, but Jake taught me a little something the other day about core strength and how it gives a punch more speed and power.
I tighten every muscle I have, plant my feet hard against the floor, and I jab with force. Sharp stabbing pain ricochets up my forearm, and Jared reels back. The controller clatters to the floor.
“Sonofabitch,” he hisses, holding a hand to his eye.
“Holy shit!” I cry out, shocked at making contact. I want to bust out a victory dance, but I’m in a world of hurt. White lights dance across my vision and a cold sweat breaks over my brow.
“Mac!” Jake tosses aside his own controller and half stands from his chair on my left. I throw out my good arm, warding him off. “I’m fine,” I bite out through gritted teeth as Jared flounders like a turtle on its back. “Just let me enjoy the moment.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he cautions.
Jake’s right. There’s no time for that. My brother is going to recover any second and launch a serious counterattack. “Let’s get out of here.”
We stumble over gaming console cords in our haste to leave the living area. “Mac!” Jared shouts at our rapidly retreating backs. “You are so fucked!”
“Jared!” Mum’s yell comes from the kitchen just moments after I slam the front door behind us.
“How’s your arm?” Jake asks, stepping off the patio behind me.
Throbbing like a bitch. “It’s fine. That punch though, it was awesome, right?”
“Very impressive. Just like we practiced.” He glances at me, a grin on his face and eyes squinting from the midday sun. “Remind me never to piss you off, ok?”
“You already do. Every day.” He doesn’t. “When are you leaving again?” I tease as we walk down the driveway. Our house is located in Balmain, an inner-west suburb of Sydney. It’s an expensive area, but we aren’t wealthy like most of the neighbours in our street. The house belonged to my grandparents. They passed away long before I arrived in the world, so it’s the only home I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine how Jake handles living in a bunch of different foster houses.
I glance across at him as we continue down the road, heading toward Mort Bay Park by the harbour. The grin has slipped from his face. The underlying reality is that Jake’s stay with us is temporary and not something we talk about. “I can leave now if my staying here bothers you.”
I nudge his shoulder with mine. “I was only joking.”
Jake stops right in the middle of the road. He looks me in the eye when I stop beside him. “I know, Mac, but I’ll be leaving as soon as another foster home becomes available anyway.”
My stomach sinks at hearing my fear verbalised. “Leaving where?”
“Wherever.” His eyes darken and I see weariness in their depths. “I don’t get to choose.”
“Maybe you can, Jake. Stay with us. Permanently. I’m sure Mum and Dad would consider—”
He cuts me off. “No.”
“No? Just like that? You won’t even ask?”
“No, Mac, I won’t. It’s not …” Jake’s lips press together. “I can’t ask them to do that.”
My brows draw together. Why won’t he even try? “Yes. You can.”
“You don’t get it, Princess.”
“What don’t I get?”
He glances down. I follow his gaze and see his palm held out in invitation. I slide my hand in his, shivering at the connection when his fingers tighten around mine. “That. How can I ask to stay when I feel this for you? It’s not right.”
I raise my head until our eyes meet and my heart skips a beat. He feels something for me? I have a sudden urgent need to know exactly what that is. “How do you feel?”
Jake pauses for a moment, his expression hard and intense. It makes him seem so much older than his fifteen years. “Like I belong to you, Mackenzie Valentine. That’s how I feel.”
JAKE