A/N: Thank you for the wonderful review I received. It is greatly appreciated.
Apparently I am inspired so Chapter 2 came easily. I hope all are enjoying the story so far.
Chapter 2
Vince strode back into the house, reaching for the telephone. His wife and daughter were in the foyer as he walked back inside, questioning looks in their eyes. Vince's explanation was short and to the point. "Shane's intoxicated... he took the Camaro... I'm calling the police. He's got to be stopped before he gets hurt."
Linda and Stephanie exchanged a look, then watched as Vince called the authorities in hopes of saving Shane's life. They had both heard the argument between father and son. Did Shane really believe that none of them cared about him? Stephanie was afraid that she would never see her big brother again. Her whispered question shocked both Vince and Linda.
"Daddy, does everybody really hate Shane?"
Vince closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, we love Shane very much."
Linda nodded her head in agreement. "We could never hate Shane, baby girl."
Stephanie bit her lower lip, looking at the floor. Softly she admitted, "I told him nobody would miss him if he was gone..."
The shocked gaze of both her parents was on Stephanie before she knew what was happening. Linda voiced the question, "Why on earth would you do that, Stephanie?"
Stephanie shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears. "I don't know... I... I heard him on the phone with somebody saying he was the invisible boy. That nobody cared about him. So I told him he should stop crying... that nobody would miss a crybaby like him." Stephanie looked up at her parents, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I didn't mean it! I swear I didn't!"
Neither parent knew what to say in response. Both struggled with the realization that their oldest child thought that he was unwanted; they prayed for the safe return of their son.
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Shane could barely see through the unshed tears in his eyes as he sped out of their exclusive neighborhood, heading quickly to I-95. Surprisingly, his irratic driving did not garner any expected attention. It was by sheer luck that he made it as far as he did without getting into a major accident. The scene at home kept replaying on a constant loop in his mind. He couldn't believe that his father had hit him. In his 16 years, his father had never struck him like that. Sure he'd been punished before but this time it was out of anger. It was the look in his father's eyes, the complete anger and what Shane interpreted as hatred for him. As far as Shane was concerned, all of his sister's taunts, all of the times she told Shane that he wouldn't be missed... he now felt that there was a whole lot of truth to it.
Shane merged onto I-95, heading in the direction of New York City. He took advantage of the long stretch of interstate to put as much distance between himself and his home as he could, testing the limits of speed on this given stretch of road. It didn't take long for Shane to get lost in thought once more, which turned out to be disasterous. The car went off of the edge of the road before he could correct the direction it was headed. Shane slammed on the breaks but it was too late. The car flipped once, twice, three times before it came to a stop on the roof. That was all Shane would remember before he lost consciousness.
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Vince sat awake in his den long after getting his wife and daughter back to bed. Much like his son, Vince replayed the incident in his mind. He cringed every time he got to the point where he had hit Shane. The sight of the fear in Shane's eyes made him sick to his stomach. The boy had been insolent, that much was certain; but Shane did not deserve to be struck in anger. Vince loved his son more than life itself and he had no idea that his daughter of all people had been bent on convincing Shane otherwise.
Vince had been aware of the sibling rivalry between his kids; it was hard to miss. It blew his mind to find out that Stephanie had taken it to such an extreme level. She is ten years old, for goodness sake. What killed Vince even more is to find out that Shane felt there was validity to the accusation. Sure he gave Shane space. The boy is sixteen years old. Vince recalled many times that he had wished he had been given more space. It was a lot easier with Vince traveling as much as he did for the business. Shane had seemed happy as far as he could tell.
Before Vince could contemplate further he was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Vince grabbed the phone up quickly, answering it almost breathlessly. He hoped it was Shane, asking for his father to come and get him. He hoped it was the police, telling him that Shane had been picked up. "Hello?"
Vince's eyes widened and he lost his breath at the words spoken to him by the state patrol officer on the other end of the phone. His son, his precious son, had been in an accident. With some effort Vince swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and said simply "I'm on my way."
The phone was dropped; forgotten. After waking his wife and daughter, the family was on the road to the hospital, fear permeating the air in the car. The silence was deafening on the drive to find out the fate of his first born.