"Where are we going?" Max asked when he realized they weren't heading to the address given in the text—an intersection just passed the airport in north Glasspoint.

His dad didn't even look up from his phone. "The waffle house downtown," James said, "Sounds like Kingsport PD is already there," he added, hitting a few more buttons before holding his phone up to his ear.

That was right...Oz and Elise liked that crummy little place... Why hadn't Max thought of that?

"Wherever they have her, it's not in Glasspoint," Darren said from the seat in front of Max. Petie was driving, and Duncan was driving Rory in the black SUV behind them.

"But if we go to the waffle house..." Max led.

"Someone who saw who took 'er will give up some information," Darren finished.

It made sense, but Max was a mess. He wasn't thinking. His mind was stuck on that image of Oscar. He tried Oz's phone again... Nothing... Same fucking computer lady and that brief clip of Oz's voice... That couldn't be the last time he'd hear his punk... He refused.

Petie pulled them up to one of the patrol cars parked in front of the waffle house when they arrived, and James lowered his window to talk to the officer that came over and leaned in.

"A couple who was also seated near their table made the call, but they couldn't give us much to go off of."

"And the staff?" James asked, pulling out his cigarette case. He looked calm as ever. There was no way he could be, but he looked it. Max couldn't be calm.

"If any of them saw anything, they aren't saying so, Mr. Gallagher," the officer replied.      

Max was so fucking not calm that he couldn't stand it.

Before he could even think a second longer on it, he'd already opened the door and was getting out of the car.

"Marcus!" his dad called, and he heard another door open behind him. Probably Darren's.

Max pushed the door to the waffle house open so hard on his way in that it's handle smacked the wall, startling some of the diners inside.

"Who was serving their table?" Max demanded of the tall skinny kid with long acrylic nails standing behind the counter where the cash register and glass case were, featuring a variety of pies and cakes.

"Uh... Who's?"

"Where's the server?" Max growled, causing the boy to flinch back and point towards a maple laminated swing door with a little plaque on it that read, "staff only".

Max came bursting into the kitchen, causing one woman to shriek in surprise, and one of the cooks to swear.

"We already answered your questions," one of the women said, crossing her arms in front of herself.

Max grabbed her by her apron and leopard printed blouse. "Who took Elise Gallagher and her boyfriend?"

"Ouch! Get your hands off me, pig! You have no right! Police brutality!"

With a sharp inhale through his nose, Max pulled his gun and shoved it under the bitch's chin. "I'm not a goddamned cop. Now answer my question, or the homicide department is gonna be in here scraping samples of your brain off of that fucking range hood."

Every bit of snark had left her narrow face, and the woman looked truly scared now. Good. Maybe she felt a fraction of what he felt looking at those awful pictures of Oz. Of hearing that his baby sister had been taken.

"Uh-uhm-it was-uh..."

"Who?"

"D-Dina! Rufino Dina! Him and his friends!"

So she knew the prick by name?

Rage surged through Max that he'd never experienced before. One that—on some level—horrified him, but not enough that he had the will to control it.

Blinding rage.

Maybe that's why people called it that because it was like he didn't even see what happened with the cooks. They just weren't in his way. They weren't anywhere near the sizzling griddle that he forced the bitch's face within inches of.

She was shrieking. Pleading. Fat mascara-stained tears were falling onto the black grease riddle surface a breath away. Instantly vaporized.

"I hope whatever he fucking paid you will cover your emergency bills, you stupid-"

"Marcus."

"Please! I didn't know! I didn't know what they'd do to her! Please don't hurt me, please—god, oh Jesus-"

"Marcus!"

Darren's voice cut through like a knife. And Marcus could see again.

He drew in a shaky breath.

"If you got a name already, then let's go, Marcus."

Exhaling, Max gave the woman, who'd sold out Elise and Oscar to Rufino Dina, one vicious shove as he released her before storming out of the kitchen—ignoring the terrible sounds she made and the stench of blistering flesh and fried hair.

Luke was sweating. Elise could see the sheen on his temples, and every time he paced in front of her he looked worse. More stressed, more irritated, was lighting another cigarette.

It was still better than when he passed behind her though. Every time he did that, he would smack or flick her ponytail—like the fucking weird kid on a school playground.

"Maybe we should've taken his other sister. He doesn't seem to give a shit about this one," Luke mumbled around his smelly Camel Light.

"Rufino said this one."  The other guy with them at the moment—Elise didn't catch his name but it might have started with an "h"—was way less fidgety. "Why don't you sit down?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" Luke retorted. "Where is Dina, anyway? He said he'd be back by now."

"Is keeping my wrists tied really necessary?" Elise asked. Her arms were aching from being in the one position behind her back for so long. And the bar stool she'd been sat in was quite possibly the most uncomfortable chair she'd ever been in.

"Shut up." Luke pulled the cigarette from between his lips and tapped his ash onto the floor. She was sure whoever's condo this was would appreciate that...if anyone even actually lived here.

He continued his pacing, and sure enough, hit her ponytail again.

"Stop touching me, Creep."

Within a few quick steps Luke was in front of her, nearly nose to nose.

"Listen here, Missy. The only reason your spoiled, privileged little ass is even alive right now is because I want your fucking brother to see what we're gonna do to you."

Elise kept a completely stern look on her face. Channeling her mother and sister to the best of her ability. "Get out of my face," she said slowly. "You're gross."

Luke barked out a laugh. "Oh you don't like this, huh, Princess? What the fuck do you think you're gonna do about it, huh? What do you think you're gonna-"

Crack.

Luke wheeled back. "SON OF A MMF-!!" he yelled, nearly drowning out the sound of the front door opening and someone coming in.

"Jesus!" Other guy gasped.

Elise's forehead was already hot from the impact and probably turning red, but she sneered through the pain. The adrenaline almost made her laugh. Despite still being bound to a chair, the surge of power she felt, watching blood rushing out of Luke's nose as he coddled it, was peak energy.

She was almost certain she'd broken it.

"Hey-ey-what the hell?" Rufino set the plastic takeout bags in his hands down on a counter before rushing over and grabbing Elise's chin, tilting her head so that he could get a better look. "I thought I told you not ta fucking touch her. How complicated was that?"

Luke was grumbling out something indiscernible, while pulling out a handful of napkins from one of the bags, when Elise's phone chimed. "That better fucking be Gallagher..."

"...Well?" Rufino asked, letting go of Elise's chin as Luke stared at her phone like he was trying to manage reading for the first time in his life.

"What the fuck? Is he-? What the fuck even is this?" Luke shoved the phone at Rufino, glaring at Elise as he passed them and stalked out of sight.

Rufino looked at the phone, looked at Elise, then hit a few buttons and put it on speaker phone.

After a moment of ringing, someone picked up, and Rufino spoke. "What the hell is with the picture? Are you not taking this seriously, Max? Because I would be taking this seriously if I were you."

"I dunno why you'd think I wasn't," Marcus replied.

"You sent a picture of a coffee," Rufino said, clearly annoyed. "And you don't know why I would think that?"

"Look, it's almost lunch time, and I don't work on an empty stomach."

Rufino looked at Elise again, almost in disbelief. Running a hand through his jet-black hair, he replied. "Maaax, Max... That was Ozzy's little nickname for ya, wasn't it? I shot your fuckin' buddy-" He hadn't. Luke had. "and have your little sister right here. Do you want me to hurt her too?"

"You're not gonna hurt her."

"Oh really? And what makes you so confident of that?"

"What would you recommend to go with the coffee?"

"What?"

Marcus's reply came casually. "Off the lunch menu. I mean, this is your aunt's cafe, I figured you'd know the menu like the back of your hand, so..."

Elise could visibly see the color drain from Rufino's face. Clearly, Marc knew what he was doing... Not that she'd have questioned that.

"...What's good?" Marcus prodded. "I could do vegan, but it's definitely not a must. Da likes potatoes, though, stereotypical as it sounds. He genuinely is a meat-and-potatoes kinda guy, if you could imagine... You there?"

"Where is the bastard? Is that him?" Luke asked as he rejoined them in the small living room.

"...Bring my sister here," Marc said after a few more seconds of Rufino clenching his jaw in silence.

Then, he hung up.

So~ on a scale of 1 to feral, how far do you think Max is about to escalate this? 👀😶 How far would you if you were in his situation?

Shout out to Ziva10103 ! Thanks so much for your support!!