"Suppose the excuse of twenty-five being your prime got you everywhere. You could do anything you wanted, get with any one night stand, do drugs or join a mafia. For all anyone cared, you're young, and you didn't give two shits what anyone thought of you.
These are the types of people I deal with. They're all the same types of people, no matter what the case, be it having gotten involved with a gang which you rubbed wrong, or being terribly addicted to drugs or alcohol. Maybe you're a recurring rehab patient, I can deal with you. Easy, it's always the rebounders who fix themselves first. After all, they're the ones who want to stop. Which, does make my job a hell of a lot easier. Any questions? Miss. Coulter?" The young girl shifted in her seat, her dyed hair frizzy from stress. She picked at her purple painted nails subconsciously, something that Tris Prior didn't miss. "It's okay Bethany, I don't bite. You're here for your brothers case, correct?" The blonde woman asks gently, the girl in question only nods her teal streaked head. The girl eyes the woman's desk, finding the name that belonged to the woman. Tris Prior, "Tris," The girl spoke timidly,
"Yes?" She smiled a kind smile,
"My brother isn't a bad person, he just, got off on the wrong foot…" The girl trailed off,
"Bethany, do you mind if I call you Beth?" The girl shook her head, she couldn't be any older than sixteen, possibly seventeen, way too young to be in a place like this. The professional smiled again, "My real name is Beatrice, both b-names, how funny," She offers with a giggle, attempting to loosen the girl up. "Beth, maybe you can help your brother," Her head snapped up, green eyes wide, "How?" She almost demands, poor girl.
"What's your brothers full name? If I can get some things on file from you, maybe I could help him easier. Does that sound good to you?" Family members were always the first source of information, and they can become long term life friends if you are gentle. "Just give me what you're comfortable with, you don't have to tell me what you don't want to," Bethany nods her head, her straight hair falling over her left eye as she moves her hair to her left shoulder. She pressed her nude lips in a thin line for a moment, breathing in through her nose. "My brothers name is Eric Andrew Coulter, he is twenty five years old, addicted to drugs, girls, alcohol and partying. He has anger management issues, and doesn't like people unless they can give him something. He graduated high school but dropped out of college. He's really smart, but he doesn't spend much time at home…" Bethany stops, trembling in her seat, Tris's fog colored eyes land on the girl with a maternal gentleness, she speaks quietly, "Beth, do you think you could tell me the home situation?" The girl shifts, pulling her sleeves down a bit, nothing Tris didn't miss. "Does Eric hurt you Beth?"
"No!" She bursts, eyes wide from sadness and fear. Tris made no move. Beth whispered, "No, he doesn't,"
"Bethany," Tris said gently, loosening her shoulders to appeal to the girl, "You know you can tell me anything, right?" Beth looked at Tris for one moment before the tears spilled from her mascaraed eyes. Tris stood silently and made her way to the girl, it wasn't a hug of pity, no it was far from that. More empathy, than anything. Bethany sobbed into Tris's soft black shirt, gripping the long sleeves, burying her face in her shoulder. "Our dad-" The girl choked out, Tris took note of the worry in the girls voice. Such a powerful voice in shackles of fear. She was extremely brave for coming to Tris. Rubbing her open palm against the teens back Tris waited for more, "It's okay Beth, I'm here, you're okay now," It took a while to console the girl in her arms, but eventually, the crying ceased. "Can I come back?" A nasally voice mumbled. Tris nodded and soothed the girls hair, feeling like silk against her fingers. The girl pulled away and looked at Tris's suddenly smiling face, "Do you want to get fixed up first? I have some make up in my bag that you can re-apply,"
"Yeah," Beth smiled and laughed breathily. Tris took the girls hands and stood up, knowing she was strong enough on her own, but simply offering her hand as reassurance. A few minutes later they were trading smiles and small giggles, telling stories of makeup and school. Bethany was a junior. Her birthday was September 13, and she was a very friendly person once she opened up. Tris smiled and finished up Eric's report, putting in her address, adding in assumptions on the file, typing vigorously into the laptop that Bethany may not be safe in the same household.
Though her tone said otherwise, it was always good to be safe, and Tris planned to keep an eye on her. When the girl had her school bag gathered and her makeup touched up, she walked up to hug Tris, who accepted with a warm smile. "Beth, would you like my number? In case anything happens,"
"No," The girl looked in awe, but fear was ever present,
"It's just me, really, I won't tell anyone, I promise" Bethany looked conflicted, before she nodded her head the slightest bit, the blonde offered a smile and got a pen. "Business cards are weird, and I consider you a special case, so here's my number, and my name. You can call any time," She said as she wrote her number on the girls hand, the blue ink standing out against her pale skin. Bethany nodded and gave Tris another hug, "Thank you," She whispered. Then the girl was gone. And Tris was left standing in her office alone, pondering how to approach the situation, Eric seemed tricky, and the home situation dangerous. If she intended to keep her promise of secrecy, she needed to be careful.
Nine o'clock was when she closed up shop, needing to get home and do her work, and feed her dog Emily. She was unlocking her car when a man approached her, she knew however, by the way he walked, who he was. Peter Hayes was checking up with her, late, again. She threw her things in her car and faced him, "Peter, better late than never I suppose," He looked apologetic, "I got caught up with work,"
"How's construction coming along? Working well for you?"
"Yeah," He said absently, Peter was in rehab for two years because of cocaine, he also had anger problems due to being bi-polar. She treated him as a friend, because he needed one. "You okay?" She asks him, noticing how messy and dirty his hair was, his filthy clothes, torn pants. "You look rough," She said,
"Do you think we could talk?"
"Sure," Tris leaned against the car as he continued to tense up, he was stressed about something. "Theres this girl," Oh Lord, "Her name is Amanda, and I really feel like things are going up,"
"Where did you meet her?"
"I was getting coffee before work, I ran into her, opening the door, she spilt hers all over me," Tris smiled lightly,
"When was this?"
"Last week,"
"I'm happy for you,"
"Yeah, but, she.. she does coke," Tris paused, thinking of what to say,
"Have you done any?"
"No, not yet, I've wanted to though, she just keeps yelling at me, I wanted her to stop,"
"Did something happen?"
"She tried to OD," Tris pressed her lips together, crossing her arms,
"I'm sorry Peter, this doesn't seem like something I could help with, maybe if she can go into rehab I could help with recovery, but other than that I don't know. Could you keep me posted?"
"Yeah, see you later Tris,"
"Good night Peter," The woman says, nodding her head and touching her clients shoulder. "Stay safe," She tells him, opening the door to her Nissan 370Z. She glances at him as he walks away, running a hand through his hair. She sighed and turned the ignition, the engine rumbled. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.
It was when she had been home for hours working on another case that her phone rang. She saved what she was doing and checked the ID, she answered, even though it was unknown. "Hello?" She answered,
"Tris?" A young girls voice rang, Tris winced,
"Bethany? Are you okay?" Tris asked, worry lacing her voice as she checked the time.
"-ris I need-... Eric,"
"Beth? Where are you?" Tris closed her laptop,
"-street,"
"What?" Tris asked, standing and grabbing her keys and coat.
"Monroe street- Eric," Tris cursed under her breath and ran down stairs to her car, "Bethany?"
"Yeah?"
"I need you to stay on the phone with me, can you do that?" She asked, hopping the connection would clear up over time. Though Tris was part of the law she was sure she sped well over 80 miles per hour down the circuit street. "Beth?" Tris asked, making a sharp right turn onto Coldridge drive, only a few blocks away now. "Bethany are you in a building?"
"My -ouse,"
"Your home? Eric is there?"
"Hurry Tris," Beth said in a hushed tone, something made her skin bristle and ignite. She pressed the speaker symbol and threw her phone onto the passenger side seat. She dared to press harder down onto the pedal, clearly passing red lights. Something told her it was bad and that she couldn't waste a second. I should have taken her home! Goddamnit Tris! She huffed and took a left onto Monroe, finding a few people standing outside their homes. Staring at the one house with all lights on. Tris eased on the gas pedal and pulled into a quick park. Grabbing her phone, "Bethany? Bethany I'm here, where are you?"
"I'm upstairs, the doors unlocked," The teen whispered.
"I'm going to hang up now okay? I'll see you in just a second," Tris said softly, hearing a faint confirmation on the other end. She ended the call and slipped her phone into her back pocket, half walking half jogging towards the door. She could hear fighting, and yelling. She opened the door after bracing herself for hits, but found a young blonde man rolling around on the floor with another man. Things were broken all around them and blood was on the floor and walls. Tris scrunched her nose before rushing in and pulling off the elder man, shoving him to the other side of the room.
The guy on the floor stood and tried to lunge at Tris, who stood and slapped him so hard he stopped in his tracks. The other, older man, attempted to attack the younger, earning a hard and swift elbow to the stomach, making him double over. Tris stood, victorious, her voice was suddenly stern, something foreign to both men. As they were the supposed superior sex. "Stop it, both of you, where is Bethany?" One of the men look at the stairs and Tris is storming towards it. She was up the stairs in a flash, barging through doors with silent rage. Becoming more frantic with each empty room. Eventually, there was one door left.
Tris walked up and knocked gently on the door. "Bethany?" She called softly, hearing shuffling she opened the door. The teen was huddled by the window, holding her arm close to her body. But the smell of copper and wet hit Tris like a brick. Blood. She strode over to the girl quickly, shoes barely making a sound on the floor. Her hands found Beth's shoulders.
The girl looked up in fear, before they found Tris's calm face. Tris held out Beth's arm, finding trails of blood, and smears and bruises. Her foggy eyes hardened. Bethany tensed pulling away in alarm, "It wasn't Eric! Please Tris," Her frosty green eyes wide, "It wasn't him,"
"Who is that older man?"
"M-my father," Tris wrapped her fingers around the girls wrist, holding it up,
"He did this to you," She stated, though it was grammatically a question. Beth nodded, Tris pursed her lips. "I need you to grab a bag or something, pack some clothes and whatever is valuable to you. Take only what you can carry," Beth's eyes widened,
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe," Tris whispers, "I should have known, can you move your arm?"
"Yeah, it's not deep," Beth confirms, Tris gives the girl a small smile, and moves a stray lock of teal hair behind the girls ear. "Be brave, Beth," Tris says, repeating what someone once told her when she was little. Then, she helped the girl up and left her to settle the renewed dispute downstairs.
Tris wet her lips when she saw them punching each other again. "Hey!" She growled, gaining their attention, "You want someone to fight? Fight me," She pointed to the older man giving the younger a rather frustrating headlock. "Come here,"
"I don't take orders from sluts," He rasped,
"You think your daughter's a slut?" Tris questioned, her voice clipping with aggression.
"What else are women good for?" He asked with a laugh, flexing and pulling the younger man into place again, and suddenly the meaning hit her like a train. She felt sick, and before anyone knew it, her fist had collided with the man's face. The other was released from the headlock, and fell to the floor. Rage was burning hot in her foggy eyes, but her exterior was liquid and relaxed. "Eric," Tris looked at the man on the floor, who looked back up at her, "Go get Bethany, she'll explain,"
"You crazy bitch!" The older man yelled before charging, Tris pivoted and kneed the man in his gut, before slamming her elbow into the back of his skull. "Yeah," She hissed, "I get that a lot," The man shoved her away, and she hardly stumbled. As he tried grabbing her, she kept dancing around him, fluidly dodging his swings or kicks. When he started running at her, however, she kicked him in his shin, making him fall to one knee, before jumping off of the floor and kneeing him in the chin with her other leg. Still conscious it seemed, she slammed her fist into his jaw faster than lightning and he was out cold.
Tris stood there panting, aware of four eyes on her. Bethany looked at her in awe whereas her older brother looked disgusted. Tris looked at her knuckles and saw they were bleeding. She sighed and looked at the bags in Beth's and Eric's hands. Tris regained her blank expression, remaining stoic to Eric's glare. Instead of acknowledging him, she turned to Beth, "Ready?" The girl nodded and tried walking forward, but was stopped when Eric grabbed her arm.
Tris paused, looking the blonde up and down, "Why are you here?" He demanded, his eyes a hot pit of ice. Dirty glaciers plowing through dirt and carving a treacherous path of destruction straight towards Tris. Suddenly, he was right in front of her, staring her down with frozen daggers, he was intimidating sure, but no match for Tris. "Bethany didn't tell you?"
"You shouldn't rely on my sister,"
"I'm afraid you're being hypocritical," She said calmly, the smell of whiskey and scotch on his breath made her struggle not to scrunch up her nose. She'd had enough drinking for her life time, and she knew that Eric would be a tough case, but meeting like this for a first time was not helping his libido or confidence in front of her. His rage was also another factor she needed to be wary of, "Your sister called me, here Eric," She looked him up and down obviously, from his tilted stance to his disheveled clothes and messy hair. "And with very good reason, now, are you going to join me? Or are you going to resume your fight with him when he wakes up?" Tris asked, turning and walking for the door. She heard light fast paced footsteps trail behind her. And eventually, heavier thuds. Bethany sat in the back with Eric in the passenger seat, while Tris threw their things in the trunk.
When she got back into the driver's seat, Eric started with the questions and glares again, "Who are you?"
"A friend," She answered without hesitation,
"Right," He scoffed, "Why did my sister call you?"
"I don't know Eric, it might be the fact that you're intoxicated, or that your father beat your sister until she bled, or maybe it was because you were getting your ass handed to you. Which do you think?" She scolded, he seethed anger at her. She however, ignored him. Instead, Tris's fog eyes glanced up at the rear view mirror and landed on Beth. Who clutched something close to her chest. "Are you okay Bethany?" She asked gently, aware of the dark blood stains on her sleeve, "Yeah,"
"What do you have there?" Beth's soft green eyes met Tris's steely orbs. Beth turned it around, and revealed a stuffed bear with x'ed out eyes. Tris smiled softly, "Don't worry Beth, you'll be safe where we're going."
So, I hav't done and Eric and Tris story yet, but I've got five of them in the making. Hope you like it, if you don't, don't be afraid to tell me. I am sorry for themes that may seem too adult such as substance abuse and really messed up violence. But I fell in love with the idea, and what's a world without a little messed up?