Warning: this chapter contains some sexual situations and is fairly intense.

A Season in Purgatory
Chapter 45

Brooke sullenly followed her "family" into the grand foyer of the house. Gripping her cell phone in her small hand, she cursed the drained battery and her inability to finish her earlier call to Nate. All she needed was a ride home from the dance to avoid her current situation. Her mother had dragged her from the dance to her step-father's Mercedes, gripping her arm so tightly that she'd broken the skin on Brooke's arm with her nails. She absently wrapped her thin arms around her torso, not sure if she was fighting off the coldness of her home or trying to cover up the tiny red slip of a dress she wore.

Katherine tossed her Ferragoma purse on the marble table in the center of the room and turned on her daughter, a maelstrom unleashed. "You have destroyed the reputation of this family," she hissed, pointing a manicured but shaking finger at her daughter. Brooke rolled her eyes at the theatrics of the woman's hysterics.

Her step brother smirked at that comment, knowing that Brooke's mother and his mother were so much alike. They were obsessed with image and had no problems shipping a kid off when they threatened the facade that they had worked hard to create. It was all just a grand illusion that these women invented and forced their kids to carry.

Brooke took a shaky breath, watching as Trey poured himself a strong shot of bourbon. She panicked for a moment, wondering why the two Valium she'd taken an hour ago weren't having their usual numbing effect. She envied that shot of bourbon, knowing that a bit of booze always made the pills work better. Hearing her mother's continued carping, she attempted to make her way toward the stairs, hoping for an easy escape.

Her mother continued her rant, her voice picking up in volume. "How will I ever go to the club again? What will I do all day now that you've humiliated me in front of all my peers?" Katherine slumped against the Louis VXI table that adorned the foray.

Leaning against the banister of the ornate stairway, Brooke scoffed at her mom's words. "What could you do all day? How about getting a job, volunteering someplace or spending your time doing something more constructive than getting botox every week?" Again, Brooke was shocked by how empty and bereft of meaning her mom's life was. It was a path she herself had been treading until the night of her mom's wedding. She was jolted of her reverie by the force of her mom's hand slamming across her cheek.

"You ungrateful, little bitch," Katherine hissed, oblivious to her husband's attempt to pull her away from her child. Her tirade continued even as Brooke pulled away, cradling her hand to her swelling check. "You are lucky that you even have a place to live. No one wants you, not your father and certainly not me," she screamed, loosing the pent up frustration and resentment she'd gathered over the years.

Brooke's eyes watered involuntarily. She knew she wasn't the most loved child in the world but it hurt hearing her mom say those very words to her face. She attempted to refute her mom's vicious words. "Daddy…" She was instantly cut off.

"Your father could care a less about you. Why do you think he hasn't invited you down to his new house since he's been married?" she taunted, getting up in Brooke's face. "You are just a burden to him, someone that the court forces him to write a child support check for once a month. Neither of us wanted custody of you, but I ended up losing that battle."

Her lower lip quivered, but Brooke's eyes hardened at her mother's crass words. "Trust me; you've made that pretty clear over the years. I've seen mother cats that were more maternal than you," she said. "I'm surprised that your ovaries didn't shrivel up at birth," she snarked, ignoring J.J.'s apparent glee at the growing cat fight. He'd fought these same battles with his own bitchy mother before being shipped off to school. Regardless of the trite argument, he enjoyed watching the hot girl in the tiny red dress in front of him.

Katherine fought the urge to shake the dark haired girl in front of her. It was beyond time that she sent the girl away. "You are the worst mistake I ever made, outside of marrying your worthless father," Katherine calmly stated. "I spent nine miserable months fat and pregnant with you and you didn't even have the decency to be a boy. What good are you if you can't carry the stupid Davis name?"

Brooke stared around at her "family," eyes wide and speechless. "You wouldn't have loved me if I were a son, so why does it matter?" she asked, confused at her mother's latest rant.

Sighing, Katherine decided to spell it out for the slow girl in front of her. "I didn't want to marry your stupid father, but my parents made me do it in order to consolidate the family money. All I had to do to get rid of him was give him a stupid son, so that his family name would continue on for the fifth generation," Katherine explained to her daughter. "But you had to be a girl, a worthless girl. And I had to spend endless, agonizing years trying to conceive a stupid heir to continue the family line."

Brooke had never heard this particular complaint before and was as fascinated by her mother's words as she was repulsed. Knowing her grandparent's determination to keep the business under the family's control, she didn't doubt that they had pressured her mother to have a boy. Their family had definite views on the value of women and placed a strong value on the saying that women should be seen and not heard. The primary function of all her female ancestors appeared to be shopping and redecorating. Her mother was just another household object, like an antique vase set out to be admired. Pretty, but pointless. Brooke wanted to feel sorry for her mother, realizing that she'd spent most of her life trapped in a real life doll house, without any kind of purpose.

She wanted to feel some kind of empathy for her mother, but she couldn't. "It's not my fault you married a man you didn't love for money. You'd still be a miserable human being even if I had been a boy," she calmly said before walking up the stairs. If they had expected her to scream or cry, they were wrong. Brooke refused to show them any more weakness than she already had. It was better to be numb. And if she could just get to the relative safety of her room, then she could deepen that numbness and avoid the pain that seemed to encompass her life.

Her mother stared at her indifferently. "I should have drowned you at birth," she commented, before walking off toward her study.

The remaining people stared at Brooke as she slowly turned and disappeared up the marble steps. J.J. watched his father follow her, attempting to placate her with soothing words. He made sure they were distracted before moving silently up the stairs.

Nathan pulled up to the front of the country club, hesitating when he didn't see any sign of Brooke. Lucas scanned the entryway, and then turned toward the other boy in confusion. "How do we know where she is?" he asked, not familiar with the hallowed ground of the country club. It wasn't as if they let people like Lucas on the grounds for any reason. He'd only been allowed in to look for Brooke because he was with Nathan, a full fledge member.

Confused, Nathan bit his lower lip and considered what the best course of action was. "I'll check out the parking lot and you go check the ballroom to see if she's there." Lucas silently slide out of the SUV and headed for the columned entryway of the club. Nathan made a few circles around the parking areas, racking his brain for any place that Brooke might be. After a few minutes, he gave up, realizing that he'd not seen any of the Davis/Herrington cars in the lot.

Nathan waited for Lucas to return, pondering the events of the night. He'd never seen his father so upset. Lucas had a special talent for finding what little vulnerability Dan Scott had and exploiting it to the fullest. He grabbed his cell phone and tried his dad's cell for the 10th time. The call went straight to voice mail, denying him the chance to check up on his old man. Similar calls to his house and the beach house went unanswered. Staring down at his phone, he made a quick decision.

"Karen's Cafe," a voice greeted him.

"Karen?" he uncertainly asked, used to Haley's voice at the other end of the connection. 'It's Nathan," he clarified as the silence on the other end grew longer.

Karen snapped back to reality, still shaken by her son's behavior earlier that night. "I'm sorry, Nate but Haley's already left for the night," she explained, assuming the boy had called for her best employee.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you," he said, taking the initiative before his nerve failed him or Lucas came back to the car. After all, he barely knew the woman and all she knew of him was that he treated her son poorly at school. "I'm really worried about my dad."

Karen leaned against the wall next to the phone and sighed. Dan's defeated attitude had worried her too. He wasn't the type of guy to just give up and walk away, which was precisely what he'd done that night after his fight with Lucas. "I think he'll be okay, Nathan. He just needs some time to calm down." Her words had a certain hollow quality to them, as if she didn't believe them.

"I'm really worried, Karen. I've tried calling him on his cell and at home. I drove by the house on the way to find Brooke and I didn't see his car. I hate to ask but is there anyway you could maybe drop by the beach house and check up on him?" he asked, the concern in his voice unmistakable.

Karen hesitated, not really wanting to get more involved with Dan's angst than she already was. But it was hard for her to hear a child express such concern for a parent and to ignore it. "I can stop by on my way home and see if he's okay," she finally conceded, realizing that it would cost her little and would make a world of difference to the boy.

Seeing Lucas heading for his truck, Nathan rushed to get off the phone. "Thanks, Karen I really appreciate it." He quickly hung up and dropped his phone back to the dash as his half brother opened the door.

"She's no where to be found. But that fluffy blond chick in our English class said she saw Brooke being dragged out the door by her mom. I guess they took her home," he filled in, watching as Nathan nodded in agreement with his assessment.

"But that doesn't explain the frantic tone in her voice," he said, completely confused by the night's events. "I think we need to go to her house and see if she's okay." He waited for Lucas to put on his seatbelt, before driving off toward the direction of Brooke's house.

Lucas walked up to Brooke's bright red door, trepidation written all over his face. The last time he'd been there was a nightmare and he couldn't imagine this night being any different. It was a rare person that could make him feel like trash, but Brooke's mother excelled at making him feel lower than slime.

Walking up behind his brother, Nathan leaned around where he stood like a statue in front of the door and rang the bell. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, not liking the look on the older boy's face.

Lucas shifted his feet uneasily as they heard someone making their way toward the door. Katherine, annoyed by her maid taking a night off, yanked the door open and stared out at the lanky boys who darkened her doorstep. "What do you want?" she brusquely asked.

Luke's mouth went dry at her tone, knowing that he'd be lucky to get off her property alive. Nathan realized that Lucas wasn't going to say anything so he moved in front of the boy and smiled at Mrs. Davis-Herrington. "We wanted to check up on Brooke, Ma'am," he politely stated, using his best suck up voice. The ice queen didn't melt or move backward to let them inside.

Trey Herrington moved up behind his wife, wondering who would call so late at night. Seeing the impasse at the door, he tapped his wife on the shoulder and motioned the boy's inside. "Nathan, it's nice to see you again!" he greeted, glossing over the other boy who stood close to his side. "I played a spectacular round of golf with your father a few days ago. You'll have to come with us next time we play," Trey confidently said.

Nathan nodded politely, finding golf to be as much of a sport as figure skating, but too polite to dis a game his father's generation valued. "I'm sorry to interrupt so late at night but I got a disturbing call from Brooke and we were both concerned," he said motioning toward his still silent half brother. Nate wasn't sure what his problem was, but he'd never see Lucas so unsure of himself.

Seeing the apprehension on their faces, Lucas immediately tensed up at their reaction. Lucas finally found his voice. "We just wanted to make sure that Brooke was safe and at home," he said, doing his best not to be intimidated by the cold woman in front of him. It had taken Lucas a while to realize that the reason he disliked her was due to the fact that only she and Dan could belittle him so effectively. They were both experts at reducing a person to nothing with a few dismissive comments.

She turned toward the blond boy as he spoke. "I wasn't aware that it was any of your business what happens to my daughter. Did I not ask you to stay away from her?" she imperiously asked Lucas.

He straightened shoulders and faced her toe to toe, trying to keep an even keel to his voice. "Yes, you did tell me to stay away from her, but seeing how we don't know if she's dead in an ally, we thought you might be concerned."

Katherine's face remained impassive. "I don't want you near my daughter. She's been in trouble since she's begun associating with you and I don't like the influence you have over my daughter," she clearly outlined. "And as for her behavior tonight, I totally hold you responsible."

Nathan shot Lucas a confused glance, wondering why Katherine blamed Lucas for anything Brooke choice to do. Anyone could see his friend was chaffing under the socially restrictive role her mother had placed her in.

Before Nathan could intercede on his brother's behalf, Katherine continued her tirade. "I have never seen Brooke so defiant and out of control. She's probably picked up those traits from you and your white trash friends," the older woman spewed, ignoring the incredulous look on Nathan's face. He wasn't sure what shocked him more: the viciousness of her attack or the lack of reaction from his brother.

"Has anyone even seen Brooke?" Nathan suddenly injected, doing his best to get this bitch off his brother's back. His words were met with silence.

Brooke fumbled through the built in drawers in her walk in closet, desperately searching for the bottle of whiskey she'd taken out of her step father's office last week. She panicked for a moment, realizing that what little buzz she had was wearing off. She ransacked drawer after drawer looking for something to kill her pain, desperate for anything to block out her sadness. 15 minutes and 6 shots later, she lay back on her bed, confident that the night would soon be a giant blur. Sniffing, she finally let a tear drop at her mother's vicious words. She hadn't asked to be born and if given a choice she'd have certainly picked better parents. As high strung as Karen was, she at least cared for her son. Even Dan was a decent parent. As was, Brooke had two biological parents that couldn't care less if she dropped dead at their feet. They'd probably be relieved, she reasoned.

A noise at the door caught her attention, and she forced her eyes to focus for a moment. The door swung open and J.J. traipsed in, casually locking the door behind him. A flicker of fear shuddered through her body, a sense of familiarity that automatically registered in her drug and alcohol clouded mind.

"What do you want?" she abruptly asked, not wanting him anywhere near her room. Brooke's chest grew tighter, the sense of panic more acute as he slowly made his way to where she sat on the bed. "I want you to leave NOW," she insisted, hoping that the sharp tone of her voice conveyed strength she didn't feel. It was like that night all over again, where she let him violate her without so much as a whimper.

"Now Brookie, why would you want me to leave?" he asked, running his hand up her tone, tanned leg. He appreciated how great the short, red dress looked on her lithe body even as she shoved his aggressive hand away. He ran a finger over her lips, admiring the succulent girl in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, she fought to calm the terror that was rising inside her due to his roving hands. Part of her was a terrified little girl, incapable of fighting him off, while the other side of her was determined to fight him all the way. "Get the fuck off me!" she shouted, biting down on his finger as hard as she could.

J.J. reeled back for a moment in pain before reaching out and hitting her across her cheekbone. Brooke gasped, his touch much harder than the slapped her mother had given her minutes ago. "Don't bite me again, Brookie, or I might get rough," he warned, suddenly reaching out and ripping off one of the spaghetti straps of her dress. He sat back and admired her exposed chest for a moment. Noting the distraction, Brooke extended her foot and kicked him in his stomach, running for the door as he fell off the side of the bed. She maneuvered around the large vase near her door as she fumbled with the knob with hands that were shaking so hard they could barely work it.

She sensed J.J. moving up behind her, but she managed to push the door open enough to start screaming. "Helpppppppppppppppp!" she screamed as loud as her cheerleader lungs would allow. J.J yanked her body away from the door, knocking over the vase that sat there. He grabbed Brooke by the back of her hair and dragged her, kicking and screaming toward the bed.

Karen walked up the deck toward the beach house, taking in the beautiful vistas of the ocean before her. The air was so clean, a combination of salty air and the hope of unlimited horizons. Oh, Karen loved the ocean. She'd spent most of her early days on this beach, staring at this same vista. That Dan had managed to procure the most expensive house on what she considered to be "her" beach was nothing less than ironic.

Reluctantly, she left the ocean behind her and made her way toward one of the glass lined walls of the massive structure. Surely there had to be a door someplace, she wondered. After a while she found the main entrance and slowly made her way through the impressive beach house. Only Dan Scott could manage to interweave rich colors with a causal set of furnishings. It was like a beach version of his office at the dealership.

"Hello," she called out, a bit uneasy at walking through someone else's house. A noise from the next room drew her attention and she cautiously made her way to what looked like a family room. Her tentative smiled vanished completely when she saw Dan slumped on the sofa in front of her, the coffee table littered with bottles of alcohol.

"God, don't give me that look, Kar," he moaned, seeing the same reaction when she found out their son was drinking. "I'm an adult and if I want to get smashed, it's my business." Dan unscrewed a bottle of whiskey and proceeded to drink it straight from the bottle. He'd lost any interest in shot glasses hours ago. He was the first to admit that he didn't handle emotional stuff well. And the confrontation with his oldest son had practically driven him to seek liquid relief. It was a one of the few crutches that Dan had and he gladly wallowed in it.

She sank down onto the plush couch next to him. "It's also Nathan's business," she said. "He called me earlier and asked me to check up on you, since he knew you were off drinking yourself into oblivion," she explained, rolling her eyes as he downed some more booze.

"Great. I've now become a loser in both my son's eyes," he said. "I mean the two sons that are alive."

Karen heard the despair in his voice. She of all people understood Dan's tendencies to internalize his feelings. It was one of the traits he'd inherited from Royal. "Dan, you didn't kill Deb or Daniel. Lucas used that because it's the most personal weapon he has in his arsenal against you."

He looked over at her with a look akin to faint amusement. "And whose fault is it that he doesn't know anything else about me?" he asked, knowing that he'd alienated his son from birth. "And let's face it, getting personal in order to hurt someone is just an inherited trait."

She laughed at his self-deprecation. "Okay, so you can be a mean spirited prick," she conceded. "But Lucas was totally out of line tonight and he's going to be 30 before he's ungrounded."

Dan shook his head at her words. "Don't ground him, Kar. He's just a kid who's messed up. I feel guilty enough without you killing his social life."

"I think drinking makes you mellow, Mr. Scott," she joked, noticing the difference between a drunken teen Dan and the man who sat next to her. As mad as she was at Lucas, she mostly blamed herself. She hadn't realized just how much anger and isolation she'd foisted on her son.

Sitting up, Dan found the long forgotten shot glass and poured her a shot. "Try a dose of my mellowness," he challenged, offering her the small glass of liquid. Dan knew she had issues with alcohol but he also understood the nature of the problem. "Come on, Karen. You aren't going to end up an alcoholic like your parents." He'd seen her take a few drinks when they were kids, but the fear of her parent's disease loomed over most of her life.

"I don't have to prove anything to you regarding booze," she stated. "Besides, you just want to get me drunk so you don't have to worry about what you say or do."

He raised an eyebrow at her as he took another swig directly from the bottle. "No, I want you to drink so you can experience the delightful bliss that comes with being totally drunk." It was a temporary fix, he knew. But who was he to bash his only coping mechanism?

Reaching out, she took the proffered glass and proceeded to drain it. "Does that work for you?" she asked, a smile crossing her face at the look of shock he gave her.

He promptly poured her another shot, before leaning back on the couch next to her. "Yeah, that works."

Nathan and Lucas stood in the grand entryway of Brooke's house staring at her mother and stepfather in suspicion. No one had yet answered Nate's question about Brooke's whereabouts. Lucas slowly approached Katherine, intent on getting some answers, when a loud crash followed by a scream floated down the grand staircase.

Staring over at his brother, Nathan was a picture of concern. "That's Brooke," he needlessly explained to Lucas, who was already climbing the stairs in search of his girlfriend.

Evil place to end a chapter. I'm fairly certain that the Anti-Karen League just got a lot bigger but I like parental drama.

Replies are always appreciated. Thanks for the great, long comments for last chapter. I have such passionate readers!