Free Angered Seasons: The Worst Birthday Ever (Volume One) by Mireille Chester Page A

needed it.
    “So long as you act like a child, I will
treat you like one. Throwing hissy fits, that’s childish. As for
why Johnny gets a hug? He told us about it himself. He did not try
to hide it from us; he did not threaten anyone else that something
bad would happen if that person told… Christ, Lizzy! I haven’t seen
Max feel this worthless since social services dropped him off at
this shop and told us he might last the day but not to count on
it.”
    “I make Max feel good about himself; that’s
why he stays with me.”
    “No, you don’t.” Max sounded exhausted. He
got up, grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and went to the
back room.
    Everyone held their breaths, listening for
the destruction to start. Nothing. I looked up at Lane,
worried.
    “Make sure he’s not thinking of hurting
himself.” I took a deep breath and turned back to Lizzy as Lane
made his way to the back.
    “Maxy breaks things. He doesn’t hurt
himself.” Though she sounded certain, her eyes flitted toward the
back room and back to me.
    “Yes, he does. When he is so upset that
screaming and punching holes in the wall and destroying a room
isn’t enough, he starts to hurt himself.”
    She blanched and looked at the others who
nodded their confirmation. Except for John, they’d all been here
when Max had started with us. The first year had been heart
wrenching. It seemed we put more time trying to deal with Max than
actually working. There had been some days where it had taken two
or three of the boys and Lane to hold him down while he had a
meltdown. More than once, he’d get into the truck when we’d pick
him up, his face bruised, his fingers bandaged. At first we’d
thought his newest foster family might be the kind that took
discipline to a whole new level. When we’d sat him down and asked
him about it, he’d finally admitted to doing anything from hitting
his face against the wall to taking a hammer to his own hands. His
reasoning behind it was that the pain helped him forget the
anger.
    Lane reappeared, rubbing his hands over his
face.
    Grant frowned. “What did he say?”
    “He said he’s tired and he wants to be left
alone.”
    Our little crew looked around at each other,
clearly worried. Jason picked a deck of cards off of the table.
    “I’ll take first watch.”
    We watched as he headed back to be with his
friend. Lane faced Lizzy. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard.
    “We may not be your parents, Lizzy, but we
are your employers. Go upstairs.”
    Her eyes widened at his calm yet furious tone
and she didn’t argue with his order.
    I exhaled loudly and decided to think of
something else. “What did you find while you were driving around?
Besides those three Yellow Eyes, we didn’t see a thing.”
    Lane shook his head. “Pretty much the same
for us. Stores are closed everywhere. Anyone we did see walking
around wasn’t normal. I know there’re other people alive, though. I
could see curtains being pulled aside and the occasional car
driving around a corner. Have you checked the TV?”
    Brent turned it on and we all leaned forward
to watch it. A rerun of ER was on, the same message scrolling
around the bottom. Stay indoors, keep your doors locked until
further notice.
    Pete yawned. “If you guys need me to take a
turn with Maxy tonight, make sure you wake me up.” He put his arm
around Marie and they made their way to their sleeping area, Ashley
held gingerly against his chest.
    “Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?”
Brent grinned and I looked up at the clock. Eight oclock. I nodded,
suddenly exhausted. He grabbed some blankets and tossed one to
Grant. Though none of us was used to being in bed any time before
ten, the day’s events had drained us all. The twins and John made
their way to the back room. I glanced at Lane who was pulling off
his boots.
    “I’m just going to check on Maxy.”
    John poked his head around the corner. “Just
thought you’d want to know he’s sleeping.”
    I