A/N:Hi lovelies! I'm sorry for the little break, I had a trip planned to Belgium (which I absolutely enjoyed and came back renewed and full of ideas). But now school is starting and I should have more time to write. (hopefully).
Fair warning: things are about to get real messy *evil laughter*. On a more positive note… it might bring certain two teenagers a bit closer. *wink*
Enjoy! And if you do, for goodness sake, let me know!
That said, I also want to thank all the beautiful souls who continue reading this story, who let me know how much they like it, and which parts they like the most. I love every single one of you. Never stop, and neither will I ;)
"Hello, Erin. And here I was, thinking you forgot about me already."
How could she? He had a star role in all of her nightmares. He was the one part of her life she didn't make a clean cut with, and here he was, proving to her that that was a mistake. She gulps nervously. She doesn't think he'd hurt her, but they're alone, without anyone in sight, and at the end of the day, no matter how tough she is, she knows Charlie can take her.
"What do you want?"
"I think we both know what I want. This doesn't have to get ugly, Erin. Just give it to me, and I'm gone."
"You think I'm carrying it around? Are you stupid?"
"Do you think I'm stupid?" His voice remains calm, but his hand around her neck is enough to put the fear of God in her bones. Charlie is a big guy. Strong enough to snap her neck in a matter of seconds.
"The police took it. I don't have it anymore," she says, trying to keep her voice calm. She's telling the truth. When she called Hank that night, the night she thought she was going to die, she gave him all the drugs she had on her.
"Well, then I suggest you come up with a way to pay five grant, or I'm gonna make sure you do."
"You know I don't have that kind of money," she replies, collecting herself. Her voice is too calm now. It's a voice filled with hatred that she reserves for the people from her past. Charlie. Bunny. There are not many, but they manage to cause plenty of trouble, she thinks with her teeth clenched together. Every time when she thinks she's made it out.
"Well, you're a pretty girl." He traces his fingers down her cheek, making her shudder with disgust, knowing the words that he'll say next. "Earn it."
"Dream on."
"Food, heat, money… What's the difference anyway? Once a whore, always a whore."
"Is there a problem here?"
"Not at all," Charlie says with what can pass for a charming smile. "Just asking for directions. I think I'll manage to find it, thanks miss." With those words directed at Erin he turns and walks away, but not before sending her a warning glare.
"Are you okay?"
Erin nods, taking a better look at the kid who just saved her. She's almost certain she's seen him at school. "Thanks," she murmurs when she manages to find her voice.
"It just seemed like he was bothering you. We go to the same school, right? I'm Kelly."
"I'm Erin."
"I know who you are," he replies with a wink. "It was good meeting you, Erin Lindsay. Let me know if you got any other guys you want me to scare off." With that, he turns and walks into the same direction Charlie did just seconds ago, and she's left alone in the middle of the street, holding her ripped bag and a stack of books, with Charlie's words still echoing in her ears.
Once a whore, always a whore.
"I think you should talk to Erin, love."
He sighs, discarding his leather jacket, pressing a light kiss on her mouth. No matter how hard the case at work, no matter the things he sees out there, the people he looks in the eyes, seeing nothing but evil, it all disappears when he comes home to his family.
The family with the addition of the one person who could possibly be more troubled than he is.
"Is she in trouble?"
"I don't know what's going on with her. She came home and locked herself in her room, saying she had homework." She sighs against his cheek. "I don't understand. She's been making progress lately."
"Do you think it's the assignment that's bothering her?"
"I don't know. Maybe she's just a teenager."
"Moody™," he says with a chuckle, while she scolds him, but smiles anyway. "I'll go talk to her."
"Alright."
He walks upstairs, almost opening the door, before stopping himself and knocking. It has taken a while before Erin started to trust all of them, and the fact that her room is a place where her privacy is respected is a big factor in that trust. Until she gives him a damn good reason, he wouldn't break that trust.
"Leave me alone."
"Gladly, when we're done talking. And believe it or not, I'd rather not do this over the door."
He waits a couple of seconds, and there is a hesitant Come in. He knows she's just inviting him in to get rid of him, but it's better than slamming the door in his face. Which has happened before, more times he cares to count. Those first weeks were tough for all of them.
"What's up, kiddo?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
He decides to start with the matter they left unsettled at breakfast. "Why didn't you tell us about the assignment? Were you afraid of asking one of us?"
"No. I figured I'd just stay with Camille. Watch her paint."
"Or you could come with me, for a ride-along. Justin did last year."
"What's the point?" She asks, and he detects bitterness in her voice. It's the reason he decides to push the matter. He hasn't seen her like this in weeks, especially not since she started hanging out with those new friends at school. Her dimples have been on display countless times since, and since her grades have gone up, all of them embraced it.
"Have you given any thought to what you want to do after high school?"
"No."
"You're lying. I told you, I can spy a liar from a mile away."
"Why does it matter? I'm not the kind of person whose dreams and aspirations come true. Let's face it, I'm lucky if I'll make it through high school."
"That's not true." He looks in those hazel eyes now, and back stare the years of emotional neglect. It's almost as if he can see every person who's ever told her she wasn't good enough in that one look. "Is it astronaut?" He asks to defuse the tension between them, and sighs with relief when she finally chuckles and shakes her head. It's so difficult to get through to her sometimes. She has spent the better part of her life guarding herself from getting hurt, and not without reason. He knows it's hard for her to trust anyone.
"Let's imagine there is no restrictions," he starts. "If you could be anything, go to any school in the world?"
"I'd…" He waits for her to be ready. He sees the answer form in her eyes, and he waits for her to accept it, and get it out in the open. "I'd do what you do. But it's pointless. Because there are restrictions. And this is real life, and I'll probably end up being a waitress."
She looks away when she catches a glimpse of tears in his eyes. He has known for a while, even before that ride-along, that Justin isn't interested in a law-enforcement career. But here is this girl, whose entire life has been nothing but a struggle, and she's staring him in the eyes and telling him she wants to choose one of the most draining and least appreciated jobs, because of something he inspired.
And in that moment, he knows he will do whatever it takes to not kill the hope in her eyes.
"You just stay good, and get good grades. This is Chicago," he promises after a while. "Nothing is impossible." He sees the conflict—torn between knowing he doesn't make empty promises, and knowing that real life isn't a fairy-tale. "I'll arrange for you to come to a ride-along."
She nods.
"Is there something else bothering you?"
She looks at him, and for a moment it's as if he can see right through her. He prepares himself for the confession, but she shakes her head. "Nothing else."
He nods at the lie. She'll tell him when she's ready. "Dinner will be done soon. I think it's your turn to set the table."
She's never been good at handling her problems, so she thinks that sweeping most of them under the rug and pretending they're not there is a pretty good choice. She doesn't exactly plan to follow Charlie's suggestion, but she also has no idea where to get the money she owes him. Maybe if she waits it out, he'll get tired and move on.
She doesn't know what to do with the weird feeling in her stomach around Jay either, so she ignores it and hopes it will go away.
At least the assignment problem resolved itself. Quite successfully she thinks. The ride-along was fun and very educational. She likes the people Hank works with, especially Al. Al is the coolest in Erin's opinion. He's so calm and collected, and just chews his toothpick and says the coolest things. And the coolest thing is how he's not intimidated by Hank at all.
Erin pretty much wants to be like Al when she grows up.
The mean desk-sergeant that put her into her place that last time she crossed the door handcuffed, was actually pretty nice to her. Not warm, no. That's not her thing. But nice enough for them to strike a resemblance of a friendship.
On top of that, she gets her very first A. It takes her by surprise, because she doesn't remember concentrating much during that study session. Not with Jay being mere inches away, and smelling so good. Her brain turned into mush, until he tapped the pencil against the book to return to present time.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said back then, and she smiled at him, because only if he knew, they would be worth so much more to him.
She's lost in thought now, taking a shortcut to Chemistry. It's her last class of the day, and the only class she has with Jay, so she thinks if she can get to the classroom a little early, they'll have time for more than a simple exchange of hi. But suddenly her world turns black and white.
"Jay!" She squats down to help him, but all she sees is red.
"I'm fine. Some guy got me. I'm fine."
"You need to go to the infirmary," she cries out, surprising herself at the desperate tone in her voice and the fear swallowing her whole. He's beaten to a bloody pulp. There is no way kids did this, she thinks. They're known to mess around, throw kids against the lockers here and there, but this is a whole other level. Either some kid has severe anger issues or…
"Who did this to you?" She whispers as they make their slow and torturous way to the school nurse.
"Some older guy. I haven't seen him before." He coughs blood. "Said he was sending a message." He doesn't say to who, but she knows. She knows by the way he's looking at her, that at some point, he'll put two and two together. He'll know the message is meant for her. And the message was loud and clear.
He makes up some stuff about falling down the stairs, and the nurse obviously doesn't believe him, because she calls his mom. Erin promises she'll stay with him, while the nurse tends to the two girls who also came in.
"You need to go to the hospital," Erin murmurs. "You need to get x-rays or something."
He fights her on it, but the strength needed for the argument evades him, as he slips out of consciousness. She watches him, the soft skin, that's never known real violence is purple with bruises—bruises she so often saw in the mirror herself. Sometimes because Bunny would be too high, and the hits she threw had double the strength. Charlie usually kept his temper in check, but when he was high, he could be a mean son of a bitch. Even more so, when he was craving a fix he didn't have.
Knowing the bruises on jay's skin are her fault kills her, but what kills her even more is that she feels so helpless against it. Against Charlie. Because no matter the badass she is, standing up for him in class, she can't really defend him from Charlie, especially not when he's drunk, or worse, high on dope.
She slips out seconds before his mom gets there, not having it in her to face her, even though she wishes to meet the incredible woman Jay's described to her. It makes her loathe herself even more, leaving him alone there, but the tears that run down her cheeks as she's walking away aren't just from self-loathing and desperation. There is something more. Something she's tried to deny, but can't, because it's undeniable, and more so now that her heart is breaking for him.
She knows one thing. She can't sweep Charlie under a rug no matter how much she wants to. She's just gonna have to deal with him.
She doesn't go home that day. Doesn't go back to the safe haven of the house she now calls home. Doesn't get there to kiss the cheek of the woman that showed her what being a mother means.
Instead she takes the subway to the other part of town. The part she remembers all too well.
There is another lose end she's left behind, and she knows she will never sleep at night if she doesn't check up on Annie. She feels partly responsible, even though Annie is older. Erin has always been the one taking care of them.
Walking on the sidewalk of her old neighbourhood brings out memories. Memories of being hungry. Cold. Alone.
She has to fix this.
He never locks his doors. She knows this, because she's come over to warm herself up countless times before. He never locks it, and that allows her to barge in in the middle of the day.
He's doing business, of course he is, she frowns, looking at the three tall guys standing up. The years of self-preservation tell her to run in the opposite direction, but she stands her ground with her head held high.
"Who is she? What's going on, man?" They get pack up their things in a hurry, almost sprinting out the door. Erin rises her eyebrows at Charlie, happy to know she interrupted the business transaction.
"You better have my money," he starts, "or this little stunt will cost you."
"I don't have your drugs, Charlie. And you're never going to see the money. What, did you think because you beat up some stupid kid at school, that I'll come running, begging for mercy?" Her own words sting her, probably more than they sting him, but she wills herself to go on. "I couldn't care less about any of them. They're just stupid teenagers."
His face falls when he realizes his bargaining chip just fell through. She can tell he's buying it from the look in his eyes. If there is one thing she picked up during her life on the street was the art of lying. Lying and bluffing.
But he's not giving up that easy.
She represses a shudder when he strokes her cheek. "You look good Erin. They must be treating you real good." She slaps his hand off of her skin.
"Better than you ever did."
"Oh, don't you play the victim. What we had was a mutually beneficial relationship."
Disgust overwhelms her. Looking back at it now, clean, it fills her with disgust. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She doesn't bring up the fact that he used her. That he took advantage of the fact that she was a fifteen-year-old girl with nobody to take care of her. She doesn't mention how he made her an addict, or how he emotionally blackmailed her into being loyal to him.
"Well since of late, your friend Annie does."
"Stay away from Annie," she mutters. Her voice drops, and it scares even her, so she's not surprised he takes a step back.
"Hey, I only help her when Ricky takes it too far."
"Stay away from her, and stay away from me."
"I'll be sure to tell her you said hi."
As she leaves, all she can think about is how this little trip didn't do much, except for fill her with even more dread.
Erin is so distressed because of the confrontation that she nearly forgets about Jay's attack, until she sees him next day at school. The feeling of guilt must be pretty clearly displayed on her face, because he keeps sending comforting glances her in English, until he pulls her aside after school to talk.
"Jay, I'm so sorry." The words come out before she can stop them, and she's surprised to find his hand reaching out to grab hers. His fingers feel warm against her skin, and soft as well.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he's quick to assure her, even though she doesn't deserve it. Against her will, her arm stretches out and touches the purple bruise softly. He closes his eyes at the touch, and keeps them closes until she drops her hand. Her fingers can still feel the warmth of his skin, and nothing she does can make it go away.
"This is all my fault," she admits. She just doesn't have it in her to lie to him any longer, because she feels the worst already, and she can see he's putting two and two together on his own. He's a smart guy after all.
"If you're in some kind of trouble, Erin, I can help. Just tell me what it is."
"It's nothing. Just ex-boyfriend drama," she says with a fake laugh. "Actually, I think it would be the best if you stayed away from me for a while." Or forever. Because she's not worthy of him. She never will be.
"No, Erin, don't do this. Let me help. I don't care about this."
"No. But you should." She does. "I'll see you around, Halstead."
She thinks about telling Hank. She thinks about it all the time. But it's not the way she's wired. For her entire life she's been on her own, building up defence walls to stay alive. She's used to taking care of herself, and the old self tells her that asking for help is a sign of weakness, and if Charlie sees her weak, he'll hit even harder. And he's already hit where it hurts the most.
Besides looking up at Hank, who has already done too much for her, who gave her a home, a family, makes her whole being shrink with an intense wave of shame that stops the words at the tip of her tongue from slipping out.
She tries her best to get Jay out of her head, excepting he'll come to his senses eventually, wanting nothing more to do with her. But she misjudges him. Badly.
He shows up at her doorstep, smiling at Camille when she opens the door. Erin can see a stack of books from where she sits in the kitchen, hearing something about studying for a history test. It's the first time that Camille tells them that they can go to her room if they need more peace and quiet, and Erin stares at him for a whole minute, before finally making her way up the stairs, motioning him to follow her. They usually studied at the dining room table, and until the moment she closes the door of her room, they've never been so completely alone.
"I thought we agreed it would be best for you to stay away from me," she murmurs, and he looks at her with exasperation.
"That's what you decided. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions, thank you very much."
"I'll end up ruining your life," she tries, miserable, without real effort to make him leave. It's the last thing she wants. He has given her so much in these past couple of weeks; friendship that she's never known before; a sense of self-worth when his help resulted in better grades; even fun which wasn't really a part of her vocabulary before.
"It'll be worth it," he whispers. He edges his hand towards hers, until she can feel his fingertips brush her hand. She opens her palm, letting his fingers slip around hers, until the heat of his palm makes her feel safe and protected. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."
The damn stupid feeling in her stomach is there again, and the only explanation she has is that she's probably coming up with a flu. What else could explain her insides melting when he smiles at her?
He begins explaining the events that led up to the beginning of WWI, but all she can see is the countless freckles on his face, and all she can hear is the loud thumping of her heart—so loud, she's pretty sure he can hear it too.
