Storm

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER 8

Chris wanted to sit on the porch and feel the rain. But Michael would eventually come out and ruin it, so he went back to his bedroom, where he could lock the door and sit by the window.

The heart of the storm was drawing closer, sending a strong breeze through the screen to ruffle pages of the notebook sitting there. Nick had claimed the desk chair to prop his feet on the bed. Gabriel was rolling a silver Zippo lighter across his knuckles, making it click every time it changed direction. Chris leaned against his dresser and looked out the window, watching the lightning flash in the distance.

Then he just waited.

"So she doesn't like rain," said Gabriel.

Nick smiled. "I kind of like the irony."

"Jesus, you are such a nerd." Gabriel flung the lighter at him. "Stop using big words."

"Five letters is a big word?"

Chris sighed. "No one likes rain."

"You do," said Nick. He flung the lighter back to his brother.

Gabriel caught it. "Maybe we should put some money on it, see how long it takes Chris to get her wet."

Chris ignored the double entendre and glanced at the pile of makeup work still sitting on his desk. "Could we maybe speed this up?" He could feel the rain pooling on his windowsill again. The red tail sharks in his tank circled and chased, slicing through the water until the less aggressive ones hid among the driftwood at the bottom.

Nick gave a low whistle. "Leave him alone, before the fish kill each other."

Chris gave a pointed look at the door. "Why don't you both leave me alone."

Gabriel laughed and made no move to leave. "You have got it bad for this girl."

Like that mattered. She'd been pretty clear where he stood. "Tyler shouldn't be hassling her."

"He'll back off," said Nick. "He'll realize she's got nothing to do with us."

"I don't know about that." Chris glanced at the fish. They helped him manage his temper—he didn't like riling them. But they seemed to be settling. "He threatened her. He told her the deal is off."

Nick pulled his feet off the bed to sit up straight. "He said that?"

Chris nodded. "Well. She said he did."

Gabriel rolled the lighter across his knuckles again, slowly now. "Because of last night?"

Chris met his eyes,

then shrugged.

He still didn't regret it.
"The deal can't be off," said Nicholas. "They can't just decide—"

"They can do whatever they want," said Chris, the words tasting bitter.

Nick stood. "We have to tell Michael. He'll—"

"He'll do nothing," said Gabriel. "Don't tell him."

His twin looked at him like he was nuts. "Are you crazy? We have to—"

"No." Gabriel sat up, any trace of humor gone from his expression. Thunder rolled in the air outside. "You saw him last night. He doesn't give a crap what they do. All he cares about is letting them have their way."

"So what do we do?" said Chris. He thought about the way he'd felt the water freeze into Tyler's skin. That had been a good storm. A powerful one. He wondered how much damage he could do if he practiced.