Free Get Even by Amanda Heath

sadness which has been weighing me down for what feels like forever. “You don’t trust me? Really?” I move closer to the bed my fists shaking by my sides. “You don’t have any right to think about trust when it comes to me. You don’t have the fucking right to think about me you son of a bitch.” I spit it out, my face contorting with my rage.
    He lifts a hand to his jaw, smoothing it over the stubble there. “I know you got a right to be mad-”
    I huff out a laugh, interrupting him. “I have every fucking right to be pissed, Tatum. You think you can just come back into my life like nothing fucking happened. And that’s just not what’s going to happen. You can go get fucked.” I spin on my heel and finally leave the room. I’m spitting mad but that doesn’t mean I have to actually get more riled up, riling him up.
    Instead of going to the bathroom upstairs, I head to the one downstairs. I stop at the bottom when I see a familiar face looking back at me. “How long have you been here Max?” I ask because he looks like he didn’t get to sleep last night. I wonder if he came with Tate last night and just never moved from the couch.
    He certainly looks it. His hair is all over the place and his brown eyes are bloodshot and red rimmed. His clothes have wrinkles and there’s more stubble on his face than Tate’s.
    “Since last night,” he tells me, never moving anything but his lips. “He said he was going up there to get you, but y’all never came back down.”
    I frown at him. “Well, he knows better. He couldn’t just expect me to jump up and down that he came all the way here because my sister died.”
    I spin on my heel and head to the bathroom. I do my business and hate that, yet again, I’m walking around in one of Tate’s old shirts and boy shorts. I think I need to start sleeping in my everyday clothes.
    When I come back out they are both sitting in the living room, glaring at each other. I roll my eyes and walk past them to the front door. I walk outside, enjoying the sun on my skin. I head to my car and climb inside. Max just lost his wife, he shouldn’t be out running around after me. Though he probably wouldn’t have slept last night regardless of where he was.
    He and I are opposites in that. When I’m in pain or feeling something strongly, all I want to do is sleep. In my dreams Sarah is still alive and it’s easier there than it is out here.
    I shut the door and lock them all. Then I climb in the back and lay down. I curl up on my side and close my eyes.
    It’s ten minutes later when Max shows up and knocks on the window. I open my eyes and look up at him. He looks so lost and upset I feel my heartstrings pull for him. Something I never thought would ever happen. “You gonna be okay?”
    “Are you?” I ask back.
    “Fuck no.”
    “Then there you have it.”
    He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “Will you come back to the house? I got rid of your parents.”
    That perks me up. “No.” Even though he kicked them out, I refuse to stay there with Tate and I would never ask him to get rid of his brother like that.
    I see the anger come into his eyes and that shocks me. “Just fucking come to the house, Farah. I can’t grieve and worry about you too. It’ll drive me fucking crazy.” He pauses and puts both his hands on my window. “I need you close. Okay?”
    I nod and climb into the front seat of my car to unlock the doors and get out.

 
    Four
     
    Farah
     
    Sarah disappeared after I left my room.
    She hasn’t been back.
    Tate and Max are in a standoff and it’s starting to freak me the fuck out. I’d go right back to Pops but I’m worried they would follow me again. I have enough tension in my body from the past couple of days, add in their tension and I’m about ready to blow up into tiny little pieces gorily decorating Max’s walls.
    I’ve been at Max’s for two days. We are finally burying Sarah today. It brings all the pain back, fresh and in the front