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He hesitates, then takes my hand lightly, gives it quick shake and drops it like it’s on fire. He says nothing, so I prompt him. “And you are?”
“Sean,” he mumbles.
“I’m Max,” the Hangman clone chirps as he offers his hand.
“Ah,” I say as he gives me a firm handshake. “Guess the prez is your dad.”
He preens. “Yeah. He runs the show.”
“Yes, he does.” No one needs to be told that Hangman’s in charge and while it’s clear Max is proud of his father, the boy comes across as obnoxious.
The teenager nudges Max out of the way and takes my hand, his eyes glued to my face in a forced way that makes me respect him. “I’m Ash.”
“Hi Ash,” I say with a winning smile.
“I’m Hangman’s son too,” he says shyly.
“I could tell,” I lie, because I can see the similarities now that I know who he belongs to, but he’s fine-boned and less stocky than Max. Of course, that could be a growth spurt.
I turn to the cranky boy, who’s glaring at all of us. “And you are?”
“That’s Oscar,” Max answers as he plops down on the couch. “Ignore him. He’s having a bad day.”
“It’s none of her business,” Oscar mutters.
“I’m kind of having a bad day too,” I say as I sit primly next to him but making sure there’s a cushion of space between us.
Oscar rolls his eyes, but the rest of the boys turn to me. Clearly, Max is the bold one. “Who do you belong to?”
I wonder if boys are born sexist or if it’s acquired. To be fair, Hell’s Jury reeks of misogyny. “Mmhh,” I say. “Lullaby, Cujo, Kona, Blackie, Singalong, and my new guy, Pirate Jack.”
“What?” Oscar says as his upper lips curls.
“It’s my contention that one doesn’t own pets, they own you. Those are my animals.”
Ash grins at me. “I think Max was asking who you’re with, because you’re clearly not a passaround.”
Passaround? “And who are these passarounds?”
Max shrugs dismissively. “Just girls.”
I lean forward towards Max. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a girl.”
“We noticed,” Sean is moved to say, then clams up again.
I decide to quit messing with them. “I’m here with Trigger.”
Oscar creases his forehead in confusion. “He your brother?”
I’m pretty sure I mirror his expression. “Why? Do I look like him?”
“Hell, no,” Max says. “But if you’re not a passaround, why are you with Trigger?”
Why? What an odd question. “I’m here on business.”
Sean looks like a light has clicked on. “I think she’s a stripper,” he says softly to Max.
Max eyes me and nods. “That makes sense.”
