Free Amy Maxwell & the 7 Deadly Sins (The Amy Maxwell Series Book 2) by Heather Balog

What I see stops my heart cold.
    Allie is standing in front of the house, hoodie pulled over her head, completely disregarding the fact that there is a monsoon outside. She has her arms wrapped around someone or something . I can’t tell who exactly because she has her back to the window and is blocking my view. But what I can tell is that this person has large hands (translation: boy hands) and they are wrapped around my daughter’s back. I can also see that Allie’s head is raised toward this person as the other person lowers their own head. Translation: she is kissing them.
    Forgetting about the dog, I storm over to the front door and pull it open. I step out onto the porch, pellets of rain assaulting me. “Alice Regina Maxwell!” I scream into the rain.
    She swivels toward the sound of my voice and I register the horror on her face.
    I now have a good look at her kissing partner. His grubby hands are shoved deep into his pockets and his own hoodie is pulled over his head, but tufts of jet black hair peek out from underneath. His eyes are dark and stormy, and he appears like he’s on the hunt for his next snack of fresh meat to feast upon. I can tell from the looks of him that he may be one of the delinquent boys that spend a lot of time in Roger’s office at school. He reminds me of Judd Nelson’s character in The Breakfast Club.
    “ Mother !” Allie hisses under her breath while storming toward me. Oh, great, I’m reduced to being called Mother again. Allie knows I hate that. I feel like I’ve been shoved into the pages of some stuffy, turn of the century British novel when she calls me Mother. And not the turn of the millennial century, either.
    “What are you doing home, Mother ?”
    What am I doing here? Um, I live here?
    I must be staring at her quizzically, because she rolls her eyes. “Where’s your car? Why isn’t your car in the driveway?”
    Ooo. The car. She assumed I wasn’t home because the car wasn’t in the driveway. Hey! What was she going to do if I wasn’t home?
    “Get in the house,” I growl at her.
    “But can’t I at least say goodbye to Fang?”
    What? Is she for real? Does she seriously think I am going to let her near anyone named Fang?
    “No. Fang can find his own way home.” I shove her into the house and offer hoodie boy a fake wave. “Bye bye, Fangie boy.” I step toward the house as I mutter, “I thought vampires didn’t come out at this time of day?”
    “ Mother ! That is so wrong! It’s…well, it’s prejudiced !”
    I ignore her accusations as I watch the kid lumber over to the curb where I now notice a motorcycle is parked. I glare at my daughter, who is attempting to get a glimpse of Fang over my shoulder. “A motorcycle? You better not have been on that motorcycle, Allie!” I push her into the house.
    “Like you care!” Allie scoffs as she spins on her heel and stomps up the stairs. The reverberations from her steps cause a picture to bounce off the wall. The glass shatters and the frame cracks. In all fairness, it’s her fifth grade picture. I cringe as I hear her bedroom door slam.
    As I am sweeping the pieces of glass into my palm, the house phone rings. “Can somebody get that?” I ask as I proceed to pick up a large shard of the glass and cut my thumb. “Ouch!” I stick my thumb in my mouth as I add with a mumble, “Check the caller ID first!”
    Too late. Lexie has already snatched up the phone and is babbling into it.
    Oh good, maybe it’s one of her dingleberry friends. They can talk each other’s ears off while I get myself together here. I continue to pick up the glass with one hand, needing to do it quickly before Evan gets the idea to play with the shiny pieces.
    “Moooooommmm! It’s Aunt Beth !” Lexie informs me as she dances into the living room, waving the cordless phone around like she has won a Willy Wonka Golden Ticket.
    “What? No! That’s impossible!” I yelp, leaping to my feet. I’ve already been tortured by Beth