A.N. Dear readers – my apologies once again on the tardiness of this latest installment. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Eleven: Panic, Anger and Pedophilia
The girl was sitting up in bed clutching a sheet to her chest. Due to the darkness of the room Casey had to squint to make sure that it wasn't Lizzie. "Liz?" Casey said hesitantly as she moved forward into the room.
"No," said the small voice.
"Goddamn it!" Bob's voice thundered behind Casey. A moment later he appeared, looking furious.
He grabbed Casey's arm and started dragging her down the hall. "Get the hell out of my house before I call the cops," he gritted out, his eyes blazing.
Casey struggled to get out of his grip before barking out a sharp laugh. "Go ahead. I dare you," she said turning toward him. "I wonder what they would think about the underage, naked girl cowering in your bedroom," she said poking her finger into Bob's chest. "Yeah," Casey continued, "I would like to stick around for that."
Bob's drunken mother swore loudly. "Robert! How many times have I told you to stay away from those young sluts? You know they're all trying to trap you! One of these days you're gonna end up in the slammer!" she slurred waving her bottle around.
Bob growled; Casey didn't know if he was directing it toward his mother or her. He took a deep breath and opened the door. "Casey," he said with an obvious fake smile on his face, "why don't we just forget about all this and call a truce, yeah? I don't want any trouble and I'm betting you don't either." He waved his arm in a gesture for her to leave, "Now, I haven't seen Lizzie, but if I do, I'll send her home, OK?" his voice held a desperate quality to it that made Casey smile inwardly. She had him by the balls and he knew it.
Casey stood there for a moment pretending to think about it. Honestly, she was disgusted by his activities with young girls and she had half a mind to storm back into his bedroom and drag that girl out with her, but right now she was more concerned with finding Lizzie to do anything. "All right, but I'm warning you, you'd better get that girl out of your apartment before someone calls in an anonymous tip," she said making sure he got the hint. "I'll be checking to make sure she gets home safely," Casey added, now knowing where she had seen the girl before. She lived upstairs on the sixth floor with her mother, whose name escaped Casey at the moment. Casey guessed the girl's age to be close to Lizzie's. Sick, Casey thought derisively before heading back to her apartment.
If Lizzie wasn't there yet, Casey didn't know what she would do.
An odd smell assaulted Derek's nose as he entered his house through the back door. He removed his boots and coat and headed into the kitchen, finding his father there tackling yet another meal. Since Derek's mom left, his father had become obsessed with cooking – no doubt trying to fill the void left by her absence somehow. Derek knew it could be worse – George could be drinking or doing drugs or picking up hookers . . . Derek figured he could handle having to be plagued with trying his father's concoctions, if only to help him keep his sanity.
"Hey dad," Derek said casually, not letting on his deep thoughts.
"Oh, hey Derek," George said amiably while mixing something that looked suspiciously like mud in a bowl.
Good god, what is that? Derek thought trying not to look horrified.
Well, he might as well bite the bullet and ask. "So . . . what are you makin?"
George smiled goofily. "Well, honestly, I'm not sure."
Derek's brows rose. "Huh?"
His father laughed and continued to mix with one hand while adding pepper with the other. "Well, it started out as stew, but I wanted to personalize it. You know how I like to do that," he added wagging his eyebrows up and down.
Derek laughed uneasily. "Uh, yeah, I do."
George was oblivious to his son's discomfort. "Well, I hope you're hungry because dinner should be ready in an hour."
Derek frantically tried to think of a reason to get out of it. He had nothing. "OK, thanks," he said lamely before heading up to his room. He would spend that hour reflecting on his afternoon with Casey before heading back down to his doom. He lay back on his bed and smiled, Casey's face in his mind.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Casey was out and rapidly heading back to Steph's apartment. She was trying not to panic, making sure that her breathing stayed even. The last thing she needed was to start hyperventilating.
She quickly unlocked the door and headed in. "Lizzie, are you here?" she called as she headed back toward their bedroom. Rounding the corner, her breath caught as she spied her younger sister on her bed, lying facedown. Casey rushed over.
"Liz? Liz are you OK? Where were you?" Casey asked shaking Lizzie's shoulder, causing her to turn over on her back.
Lizzie opened her eyes blearily. "Hey Case," she said in a hoarse voice.
Casey huffed out a breath of relief. "God, Liz, I was so worried!" she exclaimed looking over her sister. Noticing her state, she asked, "What the hell happened to you?"
Lizzie rubbed her face and sighed before pulling herself into a sitting position, her back leaning on the pillows behind her. "Nothing," she ground out stubbornly, refusing to look Casey in the eye.
Casey could feel her blood pressure rising. Now that she knew her sister was safe, she let her anger rear its ugly head. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NOTHING?" she shouted causing Lizzie to wince. "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I'VE BEEN? I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK! I THOUGHT MAYBE YOU HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED BY BOB OR SOMETHING!" she continued before stopping to catch a breath. Casey struggled to rein in her temper. "Now," she continued in a calmer voice, "Tell me where you were . . . right now."
Lizzie didn't get that Casey knew she had skipped out on Melanie at the mall. "I told you," she said in a voice that was meant to be patronizing, "I was hanging with Mel at the mall. After that we went back to her house and lost track of time."
Casey sighed and fought the urge to slap her sister's face. "Elizabeth," she pulled out the big guns, "I know you weren't with Melanie the whole time. I called her and she told me that you ditched her at the mall. Now, I'll ask you again, where did you go?"
Lizzie swore inwardly. Frickin' Melanie! "Look, I just got bored and took off, OK? I mean, Melanie and me aren't even that good of friends anyway. She drives me fricking nuts with her preppy clothes and preppy friends . . ." she trailed off at the look on her sister's face.
Casey was staring at her with an expression that Lizzie had never seen before. It wasn't quite anger or disappointment, not quite fear . . . she wasn't sure what Casey was thinking, but she knew it wasn't good. She sat on her bed, her head still pounding, and wishing she could just go to sleep, but instead she had to wait for whatever punishment that Casey would come up with. Honestly, Lizzie could care less at the moment what that was, she felt so horrible already.
The silence seemed to drag on before Casey spoke. "All right," she said in a defeated voice, "it's obvious that I'm not going to get anywhere with you tonight." Casey glanced at her watch. "Are you hungry?"
Lizzie felt the bile surge up from her stomach at the thought of eating. "Uh, no," she choked out.
Casey studied her for a moment before nodding. "Why don't you take a shower and then go to bed? We'll talk about this tomorrow," she said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Lizzie looked at her sister in surprise. She wasn't expecting Casey to give up so easily. Of course, she knew that Casey would find out sooner or later what happened, but Lizzie was glad that she didn't have to deal with the consequences tonight. She would worry about it tomorrow. Dragging herself off the bed, she grabbed her pajamas before heading into the bathroom.
Later, after Lizzie had showered and fallen asleep, Casey sat on the couch picking at the small dinner she had made for herself. She didn't really have an appetite, but she knew she had to eat. Casey managed a few more bites before setting the plate on the coffee table. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, her head falling back against the cushions. Her stomach roiled a bit when she thought back on how she felt when she couldn't find her sister. If anything ever happened to Lizzie, Casey would be destroyed. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. I will make sure nothing happens to Lizzie . . . ever. Casey thought before closing her eyes.
The ringing of the telephone startled Casey from her impromptu nap. She sat up and looked around disoriented before getting up to grab the phone. Idly she glanced at the clock above the sink and noticed the time: It was close to 10 p.m.
"Hello?" she said while grabbing a water from the refrigerator.
"Hey Cassandra," Derek's voice said over the line, causing a smile to appear involuntarily on Casey's face.
"Derek! I didn't expect to hear from you again today," Casey said before thinking.
He chuckled briefly before speaking. "Well, I just wanted to call and tell you that I enjoyed hanging out with you this afternoon." He paused, noticing the lateness of the hour. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
Casey thought for a moment. Should she tell him the truth? Would he think she was lame if she knew that she was asleep at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night? Then again, he was home, wasn't he? It didn't sound as if he was calling from a big party or a bar somewhere, so maybe he wouldn't think anything of it. "Case? You there?" his voice broke her out of her reverie.
She laughed nervously, "Oh, uh, well, I would be lying if I said I hadn't been snoozing on the couch."
Derek snickered before replying. "Well I can let you go and maybe call you tomorrow if you'd like?" It started out as a statement but it ended up as a question because he never wanted to assume anything with Casey. She seemed leery enough around him – he didn't want to screw anything up by pushing too hard, too fast.
Casey found herself shaking her head even though Derek couldn't see it. "No, that's OK, I'm awake now," she said plopping back down on the couch. She might as well enjoy the solitude before Steph came back – possibly with a "date". "So, what are you up to?" she asked while flipping the channels on the TV. There was never anything good on Saturday nights.
"Well, besides talking to you? Nothing. Unless you count the raging case of heartburn I have from trying my father's latest 'masterpiece'", Derek said. Casey could almost see him using his fingers as quote marks for the word masterpiece.
"Uh oh, what did he inflict on you tonight?" she asked with a smile.
Derek snorted. "Well, that's the million dollar question. My best guess is a stew/casserole/soup combination. Whatever it was, it's sitting in my stomach like a rock. I'm thinking I might need to have it surgically removed."
Casey laughed, which made Derek smile. "Wow, that sounds perfectly . . . awful," she deadpanned, making Derek laugh as well.
"Hey, one of these days I'll have to have you over for dinner. I shouldn't be the only one to suffer."
The smile slid off Casey's face. Dinner with Derek's family? The thought made her nervous. That always implied a relationship, and Casey wasn't in the market for one of those. There was an awkward silence on the line as Casey struggled to find something to say.
Derek spoke first, sensing that maybe he had said something Casey wasn't ready for. "Well, I should let you go. I was just sitting here thinking about you . . ." he trailed off as he realized what he just said. Great, Derek! Now she'll be even more scared away!
Casey cleared her throat before answering. "Yeah, I should go. My roommate will be home any minute and she'll probably want the phone line open." Casey knew that sounded lame, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
They said their goodnights and Derek rang off, hoping that he hadn't pushed Casey away for good. Casey meanwhile, was hoping that she didn't sound like too much of an idiot. Ah well, she thought to herself before heading to bed, why should I be trying to impress a guy anyway?
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