“Seriously,” Max said, his tone stern, his voice lower than before. “What the hell happened, Leyton?”
Leyton turned to face his best friend. He hated not telling Max the truth, but the last thing Leyton wanted was anyone’s pity. And he damn sure didn’t want Max to think he was weak. It wasn’t like Leyton was letting his dad get the jump on him. The old bastard had started beating Leyton while he slept in order to avoid getting hit back. By the time Leyton was awake and fully functioning, the asshole would have him at a disadvantage, leaving Leyton able to do little more than protect his head from the brutal beatings.
“I told you. Nothin’. I prob’ly fell.”
“Right,” Max muttered, spinning around to his locker.
Clearly he didn’t believe Leyton, but at least he’d stopped asking questions. That was all Leyton could hope for at this point. During the three years they’d been friends, Max had become rather protective of him, although he didn’t quite understand why. It hadn’t been easy, but Leyton had managed to keep his father’s abuse from Max. Up to this point, he’d done a good job.
However, in the future, he would have to make damn sure he was more careful about changing clothes.
Ashlynn walked into the living room to find Max and Brent arguing about some video game they were playing. She’d planned to go talk to her mother, but her uncle Patrick had been there, and since he made her feel yucky with the creepy way he looked at her, she’d opted to see what her brother was doing instead.
“Man, you need to learn how to play!” Brent howled at Max.
“Quit whinin’ like a little girl,” Max retorted.
“Y’all need to shut up,” Ashlynn told them firmly, knowing neither of them would listen to her, but she said it anyway. “Uncle Patrick’s here and he’s talkin’ to Mom.”
Max peered over at her, and Ashlynn got the feeling he knew why she wasn’t in there talking to Uncle Patrick.
“Go away, you little brat!” Brent hollered, his attention never leaving the television screen.
Refusing to do what Brent said, Ashlynn curled up on the opposite end of the couch and observed the two of them. She felt more comfortable when Max was around, especially when Uncle Patrick came over to visit. She was pretty sure Max didn’t like Uncle Patrick, either.
“I heard that Leyton got in another fight,” Brent told Max.
Ashlynn watched as Max’s attention jerked over to Brent briefly. “Where’d you hear that?”
“One of my friends, his brother goes to your school. Said that Leyton’s covered in bruises. Someone kicked his ass.”
“Shut up,” Max muttered. “It ain’t true. Leyton didn’t get beaten up.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Max’s eyes slid to Ashlynn momentarily before returning to the game.
“But I—” Brent tried again.
“I said shut up. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“He’s always fightin’,” Ashlynn remarked. “It makes sense that he’d be bruised up.”
“What do you know?” Brent countered. “You’re only eleven.”
“Almost twelve!” she shouted.
Brent always acted like she was a little kid, and it made her angry. He wasn’t even a whole year older than her. Only eleven months, but he always told her she was a little kid.
“Not yet, you’re not,” he grumbled, his eyes locked on the television screen, thumbs working furiously over the controller in his hand.
Ashlynn wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything, but she ignored Brent, anyway. He always wanted to fight, and she knew it only upset Max.
Max glared at her, but he didn’t say anything. He never did. For whatever reason, her big brother was always protecting her, never yelling at her the way Brent or Victor did. Or even Dad. But when Dad yelled at her, Max was always around. It seemed like he was watching out for her, like he was her protector.
The thought made her smile. She’d always thought of Max as her shield against the evil. He was the only one she could ever talk to besides Aidan, and she liked Max because he didn’t seem to mind when she wanted to talk to him. Once, when she was seven, he’d even played Barbies with her while she told him all about her school. But he’d told her that she couldn’t tell anyone he had played with Barbies or he’d never play with her again.
So she had never said anything and she never would.
“What do you want, Ashy?” Brent asked, his head never turning toward her.
“Don’t call me that!” she yelled.
“Ashy. Ashy. Ashy.”
“Shut the hell up,” Max bit out. “Do it again and I’ll punch you.”
Brent smiled. “Whatever. Maybe you’re the one who beat up Leyton.”
Max rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.
Ashlynn liked Leyton—he was so cute. He was also nice to her like Max was, but he didn’t talk to her much. He seemed sad and mad all the time, but never at her. She’d never really tried to talk to him even though he was always at their house. Almost every weekend, Leyton was there, hanging out with Max, and Ashlynn wondered if he didn’t like his parents. She’d even asked him one time if his mom and dad were mean to him like her dad was to her, but he hadn’t answered.
“Dinner’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Walter, the man who cooked for them, called out from the other room.
“Hurry up,” Brent urged Max. “I’m not gonna listen to Dad yell because we weren’t sittin’ at the table when he gets there.”
Ashlynn launched up from the couch and ran across the room, making a beeline for the dining room. She wasn’t going to be late, either, because that was one of the times her dad was really mean, even though he always told her it was for her own good. And the last time he’d been mean when Uncle Patrick had been there, Uncle Patrick had come to her room to talk to her, and she wasn’t about to let that happen again.
Today, like every day, Ashlynn would show her dad that she’d learned her lesson.
Chapter Six
Irritated? Stupid fucking question.
Present day
November 1st
Ashlynn gave herself credit for being on her best behavior throughout dinner, then afterward, when everyone disappeared in their effort to pretend to be superheroes for Courtney.
But she was tired of the act, ready to let go of the smokescreen and get back to normal.
Most everyone had retreated to the veranda for after-dinner drinks and conversation while they’d waited for the superheroes to return. Now that the crisis seemed to be over, Ashlynn was no longer interested in hanging out with everyone, so she’d snuck back inside, seeking a little solitude. Quite frankly, she was all talked out. These days, she could hardly sit still, anxious whenever she was around people.