“You can’t just come in here like this!” Wallace yelled, taking a single step in his direction. “This is my house!”
The jackass probably would have said more if Max hadn’t picked him up and slammed him forcefully against the wall. The urge to punch the piece of shit was nearly overwhelming, but he settled for shoving a forearm against Wallace’s throat and holding him a few inches off the floor as he looked over his shoulder at the boy.
“Did he hurt you?” Max asked, trying his best to keep the question from coming out as a snarl…and pretty much failing. “I heard screaming from outside. Was he attacking your mother?”
Even though he was obviously still in pain, Terence opened his mouth to answer. But then his mother was at his side, shaking her head as she put her hand on her son’s shoulder.
“That’s not what happened,” she said, her voice trembling. “Terence stumbled and hit his hand on the doorjamb. He’s doing that all the time. Natasha was scared when she saw the blood and screamed. That’s all that happened… I swear. Tell him, Terence. Tell the officer what happened.”
Wallace struggled against Max’s forearm, but Max pinned him with a single cold stare. Still holding on to Wallace, Max shifted his gaze to stare at the wall as he slowly got control of himself. Regaining control was much harder this time than it ever had been in the past. He was this close to killing this son of a bitch. Wallace might have deserved it, but that wasn’t the way Gage expected him to operate.
When he finally forced his fangs and claws to retract, he turned to look at Terence, hoping the kid would be brave enough to tell the truth. But the small amount of hope and strength that had been there earlier drained away, leaving the boy’s face an expressionless mask, devoid of emotion.
“That’s what happened,” the boy said softly. “I stumbled and hit my hand… That’s all.”
Max’s heart broke for the kid. Seeing a light go out in the boy’s soul was almost too much. He glanced at Eileen Wallace.
“You know this won’t stop until you make it stop,” he said. “Trust me, I know how this ends. If you don’t stand up to him, this will keep happening until one of your children is dead.”
For a moment, it looked like Eileen Wallace might actually do the right thing, but then she shook her head. “It won’t. Nick wouldn’t do that. Just let him go. Please. It’s all going to be okay now.”
“That’s right, asshole,” Wallace snarled. “Let me go!”
Max cursed. It was over. He could call the local division house, file a report, and give a statement about the shouts he’d heard, but it wouldn’t do any good, not with everyone in here singing this well-rehearsed routine.
He let Wallace go so suddenly the man fell to the floor like the bag of crap he was. Max didn’t leave right away, but locked eyes with each of the kids in turn, seeing their fear and resignation. He knew the feeling. It was the emotion that came when you truly realized nothing was ever going to change. When that last little bit of faith you had left in the world disappeared.
Turning, Max strode out of the house, not bothering to close the door behind him. That just made it easier to hear Wallace shouting about hiring a lawyer and suing the city, the police department, and him.
Given how little Chief Curtis thought of SWAT these days, there wasn’t much chance of the city or the police department paying for any of this. They were going to fire his ass the minute word reached DPD headquarters and let him take the heat for this all on his own.
Ernest Miller was standing in his yard next door, shaking his head in disappointment as Max walked down the street and climbed in his Camaro. Max couldn’t disagree with the man. He’d well and truly screwed the pooch this time. Instead of helping those kids, he’d likely made it worse. He’d embarrassed Wallace in front of his family. The bastard would be taking it out on one of them soon enough.
Max put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, more drained and exhausted than he’d ever been in his life. Right now, getting drunk would have been nice, but it was nearly impossible for a werewolf to get inebriated, so he guessed there was no point in trying. Not that he’d get the chance, because something told him he’d probably be spending the rest of the day and most of the night explaining himself to internal affairs.
Shit.
An IA investigation. That would be fun.
* * *
“Still thinking about Denise?”
Lana looked up from her menu and across the table at her mother. Crap, how long had she’d been zoning out? Her mom had suggested coming to the Galleria Mall hoping it would help take Lana’s mind off what had happened to Denise, but so far, it wasn’t working. Lana opened her mouth to fib and tell her mother she was simply trying to decide what to order for lunch, but realized it would be a waste of time. Her mom knew her too well.
“Sorry,” Lana apologized, giving her mother a small smile. “Was it that obvious?”
Her mother’s lips curved. “Well, the fact that you’ve been looking at your menu upside down for the past few minutes was sort of a dead giveaway that you’re distracted. And considering you just found out about Denise last night, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what you were thinking about.”
Lana glanced down at her menu and realized her mom was right. Good grief, Charlie Brown, where was her head at? She flipped her menu right side up and saw it was still going to be hard to decide what to order. The restaurant had a lot of great-looking choices. Not that her mind was very focused on food right then.
“It’s hard not thinking about Denise,” she admitted. “A few days ago, we were talking about renting an apartment together and trying to get a job at the same company.”
“Were you able to get in touch with Denise’s parents?” her mom asked.
“Yeah, but it took a while. As you can imagine, it’s been a tough couple of days for them.”
“Are you going up to Alaska for the service?”
