That's What You Get

Chapter Seventeen: Cracks in the Mirror

Some months had passed since Pete had regained his control, his hold over every fiber of Mikey's being.

Pete didn't knock; he never did with Patrick.

He swung the door open with that same effortless swagger he always carried, a bag of takeout in one hand and a smirk on his face. "Hope you're hungry."

Dani looked up from the couch, startled. She had a book open but wasn't reading it, just holding it like a shield.

"Pete?" she said, anxiety filling her tone as she sat up straighter. "Uh... Patrick's in the garage."

"Figured I'd swing by. Mikey's napping and I was bored." He walked in like he owned the place, just like he used to, before things got bad. "Thought maybe we could all hang. Like old times for me and Trick."

She offered a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, despite knowing his true nature. "Sure."

Pete set the food on the kitchen counter and glanced at her. Something about her posture was tight. Guarded. Her eyes flicked toward the garage door a little too often. He filed that away.

"You okay?" he asked, casual, not that he really cared.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. Too quickly.

Before he could respond, the door to the garage creaked open. Patrick stepped in, wiping grease from his hands. "Pete," he said, a little surprised but grinning. "What the hell, man?"

"Brought tacos," Pete said, holding up the bag. "Didn't think I needed an invitation."

Patrick laughed, clapped him on the shoulder. "You never did."

Pete's eyes darted back to Dani. Her expression had changed. She was smiling now, but it was the tight kind, the one he used to see on Mikey's face when things were falling apart inside.

They all sat around the table, but Pete couldn't shake the shift in energy. Dani barely touched her food. Every time Patrick spoke, she flinched, not dramatically, but enough for someone like Pete to notice.

Patrick reached for his drink and Dani instinctively moved her arm, bumping her glass and spilling water across the table.

"Shit," she muttered, jumping up to grab a towel.

"Jesus, Dani," Patrick snapped. "Could you be more clumsy?"

Pete froze mid-bite. The tone. The edge. It sounded too familiar.

Dani mumbled something and hurried to wipe it up.

Pete watched as Patrick leaned back, muttering under his breath. The same way Pete used to. The same way he still did when Mikey forgot something, or flinched wrong, or cried too loud.

"You good, man?" Patrick asked, laughing a little. "You're quiet."

"Yeah," Pete said slowly, eyeing Dani. She didn't look up once. "Just... thinking."

Pete forced a grin and took another bite of his taco, chewing slowly, eyes never leaving Dani. Her hands trembled as she wiped up the mess, though she tried to hide it. He recognized that shake. He'd seen it in Mikey a thousand times before.

"Rough day?" Pete asked, keeping it light.

Dani straightened. "I'm fine."

Patrick scoffed. "She's always fine, even when she's being a mess."

Pete's jaw flexed. "Funny, Mikey says that too. But he isn't."

There was a pause.

Dani looked up, just briefly, but in her eyes, something flickered. Gratitude? Warning? Fear?