Souls in Peril (26 page)

Max shook his head, confused. How could he possibly get through to her? She and JD were a lethal combination with their
doom and gloom
philosophy, yet they were all the other had.

“So let me guess. Now that you and Em are BFF
’
s, you want nothing to do with the pact?” she asked, rubbing her lower abdomen.

The pact. Max had completely forgotten about the pact. However, before he could press her about it, JD directed his thoughts to something else. Izzy was in pain. “What
’
s wrong?” Max hurried to her side.

“Pain. What
’
s always wrong?” She grimaced
, bending
over slightly.

“I think you should lie down.” He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her to the couch he
’
d seen when he first came in. Izzy immediately collapsed onto it, groaning slightly. Max tugged a white throw from the corner of the couch and draped it over her.

“Thanks, JD. You always take such good care of me.” She smiled and touched his cheek.

“Do you want something for the pain? Aspirin, ibuprofen?” he asked, tucking the blanket around her legs.

“No. The only thing that helps
is
the Percs. And I
’
m saving those for the pact.” She grimaced, rubbing harder on her stomach.

“Okay, Izzy. Don
’
t get mad, but,” Max took a deep breath, “remind me about the pact.”

Izzy exploded. “JD! Are you serious?” She crawled off the couch, the throw tumbling to the floor. “Are you sure you don
’
t have brain damage from that stupid accident?” Before Max could react, she doubled over in pain.
“Why is this happening to me? Now I can
’
t even eat jelly sandwiches?”

Max stooped down next to her, shocked to see beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “Pact or no pact, Izzy, you have to take a pain pill.”

She nodded, making a bee-line for the bathroom. Max went into the kitchen and wiped down the counters from lunch to allow her more privacy in the bathroom. He remembered when his aunt had her episodes, his mom would shoo everyone away from the bathroom so as not to embarrass her. Izzy returned looking exhausted and paler than usual as he finished sweeping the floor.

“Thanks. I really don
’
t have the energy to clean this up and you know how fussy my dad is.” She slowly lowered herself onto the bar stool she
’
d sat on during lunch.

“Please take some pain meds, Izzy.” Max filled a glass with ice water and set it in front of her.

“I did. I haven
’
t been this bad in months.” With a shaky hand, she took a long draw of the water. “I
’
m sorry for yelling at you, JD. You know how I get when the pains kick in.”

“No harm, no foul.”

“Yes, it is harm. You
’
re my best friend. We are all we have. We must stick together.” She feebly held up her
index
finger. Max reluctantly wrapped his around hers.

“Keep to the code
,
”
t
hey both said, though Max
’
s voice was barely audible. He decided now was
n’
t the time to argue with her over the stupid code.

“Okay, the pact.” Izzy leaned back in the stool, still looking like the living dead.

“No. Not today. You need to rest, and I should be going.” Max removed the slippers and put his shoes back on. “I
’
ll see you tomorrow.”

Izzy opened the door for him. Max looked at her again. “I really want to talk about the pact, Izzy. Maybe tomorrow at lunch?” She nodded soberly as he stepped of
f
the porch. “Get some rest.”

Chapter 1
5

Max strode down the curved driveway of Izzy
’
s house, but instead of turning left toward JD
’
s, he turned right.

Ambling
toward
his
home felt surreal. He rounded the corner on Winding Trail and stopped. How many times had he run up and down this road? His dad taught him how to ride a bike here. He and Leo played kickball for hours on end in this cul-de-sac. A flood of emotions washed over him and he almost turned around. He stared at the house in the center of the loop, his house, and finally stepped toward it.

The Hawthorn tree in front bloomed proudly with its tiny pink flowers. The Bleeding Hearts, his mother
’
s pride and joy,
were
start
ing
to bud
, and the purple heather, his personal favorite, waved in the gentle breeze.

The basketball hoop in the driveway reminded him of the game his family and Em had played the night of the accident. He recalled the barbeque and his dad
’
s Shrimp Scampi.

His parents.  He missed them
a lot
. It seemed like a lifetime since he
’
d heard one of his father
’
s lame jokes, or listened to his mom stressing over organic ver
sus
non-organic gardening. He closed his eyes to the pain.
Soon. Gabe promised.
He had no idea how Gabe was going to pull it off s
ince he wasn
’
t allowed to cross
over to where they were, but he trusted Gabe. After all, how could he not trust an angel? And if Gabe promised him he
’
d see his parents when he finished helping JD, then he knew he
’
d get to see them.

Max stood
staring
at the house for several more minutes, walking up to the flowerbeds for a closer view. It surprised him how everything
seem
ed the same as it did the night of the accident
;
nothing had change
d
, really. The spring flowers
were in full bloom now
, but that was it.
A
s if someone had forgotten to tell the house that no one lived there anymore. The grass was freshly mowed, the flowerbeds weeded.

Max stepped back. Had someone moved in? It
’
d been several weeks since the accident, but surely it hadn
’
t been sold, not yet.

“JD? What are you doing here?” Emma came around from the other side of the house. She had on a pair of jean shorts and an old t-shirt, along with
some
pink and blue gardening gloves.

“Oh, hi, Emma. I
’
m walking home
from my
friend
’
s house
since we no longer have a car
.
”
N
ot wanting her to think him some kind of deranged stalker, he added, “
This isn
’
t your house, right? Didn
’
t you say you lived on
Pebble Hill Circle
?”

“Oh, no. This
is, ah,
. . . a friend of mine
lives here
. They aren
’
t around and I noticed the rose bushes were getting pretty weedy so I decided to clean them up a bit. The mom hates weeds around her roses.” She laughed self-consciously.

Max smiled. She was right. His mother hated weeds around her prized rose bushes. It touched him that Em remembered. “I
’
m sure they
’
re grateful.”

She nodded soberly. “I didn
’
t
know you don
’
t have
a car. I can pick you up tonight if you
’
d like.”

“Actually, I haven
’
t had a chance to run all week. I thought I
’
d run over to your house. Helps to have a little motivation, you know,” he explained.

“Okay. If you change your mind, let me know. I
’
d better get back to the roses. I
’
ll see you later.” She walked around to the back toward his mother
’
s flower garden.

Reluctantly, Max left and headed for JD
’
s. He
hoped
to spend more time at his house. He wondered if the spare key was still hidden under the ugly ceramic frog his father
’
d won at the Winter Festival three years ago. But with Emma there, he couldn
’
t possibl
y
go inside.

Max hurried back to JD
’
s and took a shower, a
quick
shower since Tim sat in the living room watching TV. He slipped on the jeans that fit best, although none fit very well. He
’
d been able to keep the weight off JD had lost while in the hospital, but even with all the exercising Max
’
d been doing, his weight hadn
’
t changed more than a couple additional pounds. “Probably because of all the fast food we eat around here,” he mumbled, adding a belt to his pants. Max wondered if his mother knew what he
’
d been eating. No doubt she
’
d be freaking out if she did.

He
padded
quietly into the kitchen to make up some dinner before going to Em
’
s. With only limited choices available, he opted for a Nutella and banana sandwich.

“What are you eating, fat boy?” Tim waltzed into the kitchen. He stood next to Max, folding his arms over his chest as he watched him make his sandwich. Max didn
’
t answer, mostly because the only responses he came up with were sarcastic and he knew that
’
d send
JD into a tail
spin. Max scraped the last of the Nutella out of the jar and smeared it across the bread.

Tim shoved his ugly face into Max
’
s. “I asked you a question, fat boy, and you
’
d better answer me.”

“I
’
m making my dinner.” Max said calmly, mostly because his concentration focused on reassuring JD everything was okay.

“You pigged all the Nutella, fat boy. What am I supposed to eat?” He reached out and popped Max in the back of the head.

JD panicked. Max didn
’
t. “You know, for a guy who knocks an underage kid around, you
’
re pretty cocky. I could turn you in to the police and have you arrested.” Max picked up the sandwich and bit into it, staring directly into Tim
’
s beady little eyes.

“I
’
d like to see you try, fat boy. I got friends who
’
ll swear to their graves I was with them clear on the other side of town.
M
y bases
are
covered.
Besides, you
’
re seventeen. You
’
re no longer “underage,
”
Tim made quote marks in the air, “according to New York law.”
He ripped the sandwich out of Max
’
s hand and shoved it down the garbage disposal as the blond bimbo pulled up in front of the house.
“Don
’
t threaten me, boy. I will take you down.” Tim wheeled around and left
without another word
.

JD wanted to crawl into bed and hide. Max refused. “You
’
re not cowering to that man ever again, JD.”

Before leaving for Em
’
s, he needed to check on Izzy. He found her number in the phone book, memorizing it before calling her. “Hi, Izzy. How are you feeling?”

“Not so good. I
’
m going to have to take another Perc. Sorry.” Her weak voice unnerved Max.

“I
’
m coming over. You need to go to the hospital.”

“No! They
’
ll put me through the stupid tests again and send me home in worse shape than when I go in,” she assured him. “Go to your beloved Emma McKay
’
s house and have fun. If it gets worse, I
’
ll go in. Promise.”

“I don
’
t know, Izzy.”
A
bad feeling crawl
ed
up his spine. He should be helping her, not daydreaming about Em.