Born to Be Badger (Honey Badger Chronicles #5)(39)

“So how do you feel?” Charlie asked.

“Fine.”

“No aftereffects from that poison?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” She moved a tray of chocolate muffins from the counter closest to the stove and set it before Tock. “Eat this for now. I don’t want to rush my sauce, but I don’t want you passing out on me either.”

“I don’t think I’ll—”

“You’re lucky to have no aftereffects,” she continued, moving back to the stove. “I got hit with strychnine once and it was unpleasant. Took me three hours to recover, and by then I was facedown in a dumpster. I even vomited a little, which was weird. I rarely vomit.”

Why was Charlie MacKilligan talking to her? The only time the hybrid had ever spoken to Tock for any length of time was when she’d been trying to find out what Max had been up to . . . because Max was always up to something. But Charlie had never given Tock food before she ordered her into a chair and started grilling her for information. This, though . . . this was making Tock paranoid. And she liked to leave paranoia to Mads.

“Do you braid hair?” Charlie suddenly asked.

Tock stared at MacKilligan’s back. “A little. Do you mean like, braid-braids? Or two ponytails?”

“Braid-braids. It’s so hot these days, I’ve been thinking about getting micro-braids. But I don’t feel like spending all day at a salon.”

“Mads can do it. And she’s fast. And you won’t feel like she’s ripped your scalp off when it’s done.”

Charlie looked over her shoulder. “Mads? Really?”

“Don’t let her Thor’s Hammer necklace fool you. Before her mother brought her to Wisconsin, she grew up in Detroit. Girlfriend knows how to braid hair. She does mine.”

Charlie shrugged. “Think she’ll do mine?”

“She’d be afraid not to.”

Charlie stopped what she was doing and faced her. Meanwhile, Tock cringed.

“Afraid not to?” Charlie repeated. “Why is that?”

Tock cleared her throat. “Uh . . . no, no real reason. I mean . . . you know . . .”

“Are you guys still afraid of me?”

“Sh-should we not be?”

Charlie opened her mouth, glanced off, closed her mouth, opened it again, and finally said, “Fair enough. And I’ll admit, I wanted you guys to be terrified of me when we were all in high school because, you know . . . Max. But that was a long time ago. You don’t have to be afraid of me now.”

“Okay . . . ?” But even Tock knew the way she’d said that sounded weak as hell.

“Let me put it to you this way: Have you guys tried to get my baby sister to make meth?”

“No.”

“Did you sell Max into slavery?”

“No.”

“Then you have no reason to be frightened of me.”

Tock thought a moment before finally getting up the nerve to ask, “Your father really tried to sell Max into slavery? She wasn’t just blowing up that story for our entertainment?”

“Nope. He sold her into slavery. Household slavery. Not sex slavery. But yes. Twice. Max only knows about the one time, because I dealt with the second time myself.”

“Was that the time your father suddenly moved out of the country?”

Charlie grinned. “It was. I blew up his car with him in it. He was really pissed about the car. It was some classic Corvette or something and was completely destroyed. He, however, survived. But I did get my point across, and he wisely moved to Ukraine for a couple of years.”

She stepped away from the stove and went to the refrigerator. “I need a few things we are out of.”

“Want me to run to the store?”

“No. I don’t want you running anywhere until you eat.” She pulled her phone from the back of her jeans. “I can just order it online and have it delivered because that’s the kind of person I’ve become. Getting all my food delivered because I’m not a people person.”

As she worked on her order, eyes focused on the phone, she asked Tock, “So, do you know what anyone is planning next?”

“For what?”

“For what happened to you. Last night.”

“Oh. I don’t know. I kind of . . . well . . .”

“You kind of what?”

“Ran away from my family before we could talk about anything.”

Charlie’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Really? You sure that was wise? Considering.”

“You just don’t know my family.” And Tock could hear the whine in her voice. She hated that whine. “There are just so many of them. On both sides. And they . . .” She brought her hands together. “They just bring so much energy with them. And it’s a lot.”

“No need to explain. I get it.”

“I just hate whining about it because . . .” She shrugged.

“My family?” Charlie guessed.

“And Mads’s. I feel guilty complaining about mine to you guys. They never dropped me at someone’s house and never came back. Or actively threatened me.”

“I’m glad. No one should have our lives. And I’m not going to resent someone who had better. I should let you know, though, that I did try to kill your grandmother last night.”