Done Deal - Max Henry Page 0,3

he might be in rehab.”

Dad leans back in his seat. “Shit.”

“How else do you dampen a guilty conscience if not with drugs?” Colt muses, no doubt drawing parallels to his misuse of alcohol from time to time.

“I think you might be on to something, honey.” Dad taps his fingertips in a line atop the table. “Further punishment won’t work, then.”

“I think we need to flip this completely on its head and give them what they’re missing from the people they care about.”

“You propose we offer them all a free hug?” Colt drawls.

“Hardly.” I roll my eyes. “But I think compassion and making them feel accepted might be worth a try. Trading blows only makes this whole thing continue to spiral out of control. We have to try something different.”

“You kids use Dee’s party as a chance to find common ground, you think?”

“We know the Chosen have their agenda for this,” I say. “But the masses will come out this way looking for a party. So why not just include them in one?”

“That’s way easier said than done,” Colt points out. “Not everyone will be as open to the idea of inclusion as we are. You’re dealing with people as stuck in their ways as the KKK.”

“Bit of a drastic simile, don’t you think?” Dad chastises.

Colt shrugs. “First one that came to mind.”

I sigh. “We’ve got an afternoon to figure this out.”

“I need to talk to the other parents,” Dad says, pushing his chair back. “I’ve got no idea what your mother has said to Libby’s mother, or Greer’s, but I think it would be beneficial if I had a one on one with the fathers.”

“Including Derek?” Colt narrows his gaze.

“He’d be where I start.”

GREER

My gaze drifts to the hastily packed bag on my passenger seat as I hit the open road. I never once in a thousand years thought I’d be the one committing the cliché movie moment of running from her issues with her life condensed into a single bag.

And yet, here I am.

I’d be a bald-faced liar if I said I wasn’t scared. I’m terrified. Behind me lies everything I know. The life I’ve lived since my memories begin. I don’t know what’s ahead of me, and I have no idea how I’ll be received.

All I know is I can’t continue to live somebody else’s version of my life without expecting my soul to die.

Until Lacey left, it was as though I moved through my days with blinders on. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I went, was the influence of money and privilege. I had no idea what else there could be because nobody exposed me to the alternate. It’s easy to convince yourself that the road you travel is the best one when you daren’t step foot on another.

Visiting Lacey in Arcadia opened my eyes to how satisfaction truthfully looks. It isn’t the ability to buy your way out of a situation, or holding influence over your peers.

It sure as hell isn’t a speeding Porsche overtaking me before a blind corner and then forcefully applying anchors.

I slam my foot down on the brake pedal and lurch forward in my seat before I cause the kind of damage I couldn’t work off in a single semester.

The Porsche blocks my attempt at overtaking once we hit the next straight, a sleeved arm extending out the window to point angrily over the low roof of the car. Pull over.

Damn him.

I’ve never let Christian boss me around before, and I’m not about to start now.

Hand on the shifter, I cruise around the next sweeping bend and then check my mirrors. The road ahead is clear, as is the space behind me should I need to abort my move. My Audi pales in comparison to the power of his 911, but be damned if I won’t try.

I slam down a gear and give the engine as much power as I’m able before overdoing the revolutions and then swerve right. His engine roars beside me when he does the same trick, our front wheels evenly matched while I push for the dominant position.

Another corner approaches.

For a fleeting second, I consider a swift game of chicken to force him to let me go. But one question sits proud at the forefront of my mind: is freedom worth my life?

I screw this up now, and not only would I likely involve an innocent oncoming car, but I wouldn’t walk away with a second chance at taking my life back for myself.

Live to fight another day. With