by A. C. Bextor
“Em?” I call out before walking toward her.
When her eyes come to mine, she stands and holds Casey’s hand at her side. They both look up to me as I walk to them, getting close. As I stare down at Casey, I find her looking lost and confused. It’s going to take time and care to get her to the place she should be. I hadn’t had time to process this until now.
Her instinct to survive a life of loneliness and despair, as well as her courage to face her fears and trust others, cements the fact that once she recovers from all she’s seen, she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with. And she doesn’t even know it yet.
Fuck, I hope she’s attracted to dweebs.
“God, it’s really over,” Em breathes, grabbing me with the arm not holding Casey and pulling me as close to her body as she can.
My arms wrap around her and Casey both in response to her nearly true statement.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“What are you doin’ with him?” I ask Bill Reams, a local and trusted cop who’s friends with my dad, as both our eyes look to James Fuller, who was being read his Miranda rights by an officer wearing a thick, black vest.
“He’s been a suspect for a long time. He’s been paid off and we’ve known it. He was helping Creed.”
Motherfuck.
“Where’s Viktor?”
“Up in smoke, I assume. He’s gone. Don’t suspect he’s been here for a few hours, but we’re looking into it. She okay?” He nods to Casey standing beside Emma as she’s being checked out by emergency services.
“She will be.”
“Kids are more resilient than us old people give ‘em credit for,” he comments.
“The other women who were in there? Viktor’s girls, where are they?”
Bill’s face looks sad, not a good indication. “How many do you suspect he had?”
“Not exactly sure, but I’d guess five or six.” It varied so much, I can’t say for sure.
Shaking his head, another bad indication, he voices what he knows. “We’re at four. Officer Jennings just found Dee Dee in the back.”
I nod my acknowledgement. “I saw her on my way out.”
“Dee Dee’s the one who set the girls free. They’re scared and aren’t talking much, but those who are have all confirmed it was Dee Dee who helped them find a way out.”
“She was a good person once,” I return.
“There’s another girl by the name of Anna,” he starts. “She’s askin’ about Casey.”
“Where is she?” My eyes scan the area quickly, searching through the chaos and wreckage.
Bill answers before I can find her. “She’s already gone. We’ve got her somewhere safe. Your buddy Aimes brought her out a bit ago. He found her waiting quietly in a room inside. Calm as the day is long, too. She wasn’t scared at all.”
“She has no reason to be,” I clip, using my tone as warning that Anna won’t be harmed or blamed for any of this mess.
“You’re right. She doesn’t have reason to be scared anymore, Max. She said she’s willing to work with the guys downtown to find Viktor. That’s an odd dynamic and one I’m sure will follow her wherever she goes, I’m thinkin’.”
Bill turns in the direction my aim is and his eyes settle on Casey, now standing away a few feet from Emma. She’s looking at us and her hand lifts in a brief wave. Her smile is small, but there. She’s completely and understandably overwhelmed.
“There’s a lot to clean up before we can celebrate,” I tell him honestly. “You had men on the inside,” I accuse, mentally thumbing through the list of possibilities.
“Local PD didn’t. This shit went big the moment your little Emilyn Richards came screaming into the station, ranting about her niece being kidnapped or whatever it was she said back then. She thought we weren’t listening, and James sure as fuck wasn’t. But the rest of us were.”
“Did your guy inside make it out?”
Confirming, he advises, “They most certainly did.”
They.
Bill smiles, this time with genuine sarcasm. He won’t give me more information and it’s no use asking.
“I’ve got shit to do. Call your dad, will ya? He’s been blowing up my boys’ phones for over an hour. All this shit is already plastered on the news. No heroes at Creed, though. The department is gonna take some harassment from the community for this one. At least it’s done and over with now.”
“It is,” I say out loud, but think to myself it certainly is not fucking done. There are so many pieces to this which need to be filtered through, I’m unsure where to start. Casey is safe, though, as are Emma and Anna.
“People can go back to dinner in front of their TVs and enjoy our quiet town like they used to,” he adds before walking away and leaving me alone.
Chapter Forty
One month later…
“See, now that was a good, solid, healthy meal,” Dad informs Mom as he opens the door to our new house and waits for her to pass through it.
We closed on our new home yesterday and tonight is most definitely a night of celebration.
“You’re ridiculous,” Mom huffs. “It wasn’t anything to brag about, Gerald. It was steak! Anyone can cook a steak!” she exclaims, putting her purse on the couch and turning back to my dad who’s not trying to hide his grin. “Oh, just you never mind.”
Em’s divorce is moving along as fast as it can. Fuckstick Greg still hasn’t contested anything so far. After running into him while with my mom, Em is certain he won’t cause trouble. He’s keeping his shit locked tight around town, too, not spreading rumors or lies about his adulterous affair which led Em straight to me.
The fallout from the burning of Creed was minimal in comparison to what I had feared it was going to be.
Reluctantly following my lawyer’s plan of action, I admitted to the role I played in Hangar’s death. This was the only piece of all of this I wasn’t sure was going to play in my favor. For the most part, however, it turned out okay.
Even though toward the end I had a feeling he wasn’t so bad, it seems as though the entire time at Creed, I had a friend on the inside. And it was a friend of the law enforcement variety. I didn’t know this at the time of the crime, so the judge still cited I took a man’s life, but it was under threat from Viktor. Luckily, with this agent in witness, the circumstances surrounding the crime, and Hangar’s long list of past offenses against women taken into consideration, it was explained that all who investigated were in agreement.
Had I not done what I did at the time, I could’ve been the one left not breathing.
“Oh, my God, Max,” Mom breathes as she enters the living room with Em standing beside her. They’re locked at the arms. “I love it!”
“We still have a lot to unpack,” Em explains to us all. “But the new paint and carpet have already made a big difference, I think.”
“It has,” Mom confirms. “It’s lovely.”
The three-bedroom house we finally chose is only a block away from Mom and Dad. Since they’ve had a chance to meet and already fall in love with Casey, it’s good we’re closer to them.
I imagine Casey spending more and more time with my parents in the future. Especially my dad, who’s been keeping her busy in his garage showing her how to use his vast variety of tools.
“Casey hasn’t seen her room finished yet,” Em whispers to Dad, who now stands on the other side of her and Mom near the stairs leading up to it. “We can’t wait to show her. It’s not completely done, but it’s close enough we don’t want to wait.”
Emma’s parents were understandably saddened by the loss of their daughter, Dee Dee. However, they were fully aware of the life she’d been leading and they knew of Casey’s existence, but not the way she was being forced to survive in it. They’ve met Casey and I’m not opposed to their future involvement in her life, but not until she’s settled and tells us she’s ready.
Casey, standing behind me, pulls on my shirt and burrows her way under my arm once I give
her the space. Her wide eyes look to mine hearing Em talk about her new room. I wink and her face reddens before going back to watch the others gawking around the area.
“What’s up, monkey?” I ask quietly as to not embarrass her.
She shakes her head briefly then looks to my parents taking in the improvements we’ve already made on the house.
“They’re a little nuts, aren’t they?”
She doesn’t answer, but smiles.
Casey’s been seeing a therapist three times a week. This started the day after we got her away from Creed. It’s been stressful and intense, but even as painful as the sessions have been, we’ve come to understand they’re exactly what she needs.
For a few days, while I was getting myself together and we were going through the motions of verifying what would or wouldn’t happen to me, she had stayed with Emma at my parents’ house. They all expressed she had been rather quiet, even in front of Em. But when I finally saw her, she was so quiet I had concerns that she was reverting back into herself. However, as she started talking to the therapist more frequently, and eventually asked that Em and I join her in a session, she’s progressively gotten better. Adjusting to her life with us will take time. And now that we’re finally truly together, we have all the time in the world.
Looking down, I ask, “Do you want to see your room?”
My fear is she’ll hate it. As we decorated it, Em reassured me it was perfect for her, but I’m not so certain. I have no clue what a newly twelve-year-old girl enjoys and to be honest, I’m not so certain Casey would know herself.
Casey nods before looking up at me. “I’m supposed to find my pictures for Doctor Stacy. She wants to see them.”
When it was approved and filed with the court that Em was to take sole custody of Casey, we were elated to give her the news. We knew this is what we wanted, but to ensure it was what Casey wanted as well, we waited and told her in a place where we knew she had grown comfortable.
Emma, Casey and I were sitting in Dr. Stacy’s office. We discussed what being a part of a healthy family meant and what a future with one could look like.
Casey’s eyes were wide in wonder as I sat next to her, waiting with bated breath to be able to promise her a life just like the one the doctor was describing.
Once I had the words out, that her place was with us, it was barely a second before Casey stood quickly and positioned herself in front of me. She threw her arms around my neck and happy tears fell down her face. She cried for what felt like an hour, hardly taking a breath between the rush of emotions as Doctor Stacy sat smiling behind her desk.
I was concerned for her, and rightfully so. Casey had been told her whole life that her father left because he didn’t want her. She said she never dared to imagine having a man in her life who could serve the same purpose. We were specific in assuring her that even though she wasn’t of my own blood, she was still very important to me. After hearing all of this, it was obvious she was relieved to have a place she knew she could always call home.
Placing my hand on top of her head, just as I’ve always done before, I squeeze gently. “Okay, let’s do this, monkey. Your new room awaits.”
“I need my camera!” Mom cuts in.
Dad snorts and pulls my mom to his side as Emma walks toward me and Casey. “Give ‘em a minute, woman,” Dad demands. “Let Casey have a look, then we’ll take your ridiculous pictures.”
“Not ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” Mom spits back. Conceding, though, Mom sighs with feigned defeat then whispers to Casey, “We’ll wait here, honey.”
Once we’ve rounded the stairs, Casey finds the door to her bedroom closed. The last time she had been here, the room was riddled with plaster, paint, and trash. She picked out her wall colors, pink and purple, and trusted us to use them wisely. I could tell she’d been excited the last two weeks, but only by her short smiles when it was discussed. She never outwardly exuded any excitement.
“Open it,” I tell her, using my hand on her back to push her forward.
She takes the few steps to stand in front of the door. When her hand holds the knob, Casey grins back at Em and me standing at the top of the stairs, patiently waiting.
As soon as the door opens, the sun spills brightly into the dim hallway. Casey’s face mirrors that of an angel as the rays hit her fully smiling face. Without looking back, Casey takes two steps into her room. Em and I follow closely behind.
Her new space can only be described as one set up for an artist. Emma decided that since Casey is most comfortable with a pencil in her hand and sketching, she’d most likely continue to feel that way if she persisted to use that talent as an outlet.
Other than her bed and dresser, Casey’s room is filled with paper, pencils, easels, drafting tables, and a lot of light. So much light that I hope she never feels the effects of her old room again.
“What do you think?” Em whispers as we take a step inside. Casey’s back is to us, so it’s hard to gauge her true reaction.
Casey doesn’t turn around to answer. Instead, she heads straight toward her desk, the two portraits she drew for Doctor Stacy resting on its surface.
One of Anna.
One of Cilas.
The pictures took some time to finish, but the doc insisted she get them done as part of the healing process. Casey had shared her concern for the two people she considered her friends. We haven’t heard what happened to either of them, but since it weighs heavily on Casey’s mind, I haven’t stopped asking questions to find out.
Casey’s fingers trace the line of the scar she drew on Cilas’ face. From just inside the door, Emma and I can clearly see her hand trembling.
Next to Cilas’ picture sits the portrait of Anna. Her dark eyes, sketched with a ray of light behind them, stare back at us all. A quick sob tears from Casey before she finally turns around.
Em, once standing at my side, rushes to her and bends down to wipe the tears away. I knew this was going to be emotional, but Casey needs closure and not in the way of the nightmares which plague her.
“I love it,” Casey whispers after regaining her composure. Looking up to me, she takes a breath. “Do you still have my other pictures?” she asks, but when I don’t understand, she continues. “The ones I drew of you and me.”
I point to the other boxes lying in the corner of the room marked as hers. “We’re not done unpacking yet. But I bet the rest of your things are in there.”
“Thank you,” she breathes again in relief.
“So?” Em stands, wrapping her arm around Casey’s shoulders and looking down. “What did we miss? What else do you need?”
Casey shakes her head, the remaining tears held in her eyes about to fall.
“Want us to give you a minute?” I ask her, seeing she may need a second to take it all in and thinking maybe it’s best she does this alone.
Nodding with a look of apprehension on her face, Em agrees. “We’ll be downstairs if you need anything. I’ll leave the door open.”
“Thank you,” Casey whispers once she’s sees us turn to leave.
Chapter Forty-One
I’ve learned it’s easy to accept the love of my family and be thankful for all they’ve given me.
As the whispered voices of Max and Em fade from the hallway, Casey exhales the relieved breath she didn’t know she’d been holding since she opened the door to her room.
The sun shining through her window was the first thing she noticed. She basked in the warmth of it and sighed as she opened her eyes to truly study its glow. The second thing she noted was her new bed. Raised off the floor and tucked in the corner with clean sheets and colorful pillows, she thought it had to have been made especially for her. It was nearly exactly the same as she had pictured in her daydreams.
The vibrant colors she had chosen for her walls were also everything she’d hoped them to be. The bright pink and deep purple surrounded her as she took in the rest of the room. She couldn’t control the sobs welling up inside,
and once her eyes landed on the sketches of Cilas and Anna sitting on her desk, she’d broken down and set them free.
I’m going to miss them so much.
Casey doesn’t dwell on the loss of her mother. She didn’t know her in the same way she’s come to know Max or Em. She harbors no regret with her passing, but at times the quiet guilt is a lot to bear.
Doctor Stacy told her it would take time to truly trust those outside the walls of Creed. Her appointments have been intense, but she’s slowly opening up and sharing her memories, which include the little good and most of the bad.
Moving to sit on her bed, Casey looks around her new room with excitement and anticipation. Boxes marked with her name sit stacked along the side wall. Standing up, she makes her way over to them.
Her hands shake as she opens the first box and finds some of the new clothes Max’s parents had bought for her even before she had arrived. The first time she had laid eyes on their faces, she saw Max’s reflection staring back at her. The color of his eyes and the kindness in their features couldn’t be mistaken. She was accepted into their lives, and they hadn’t questioned her past at all.
Casey moves the top box and sets it down while her curiosity of the next forces her to continue. The voices downstairs are jovial and easy. The laughter pierces her ears and causes her to smile.
Once the box is open, the framed picture on top freezes her entire body mid-motion. She doesn’t want to touch it.
I don’t understand. Who are those people with Max?
The people in the picture look to be some of Max’s friends. He’s smiling into the camera while sitting in a big leather chair, his hand wrapped around a bottle of beer.
A man, bigger than Max, stands above him. He’s holding a cigarette in the same hand as his beer. He’s smiling just as Max is.
And he’s also wearing a black leather vest.
With her curiosity finally getting the best of her, Casey touches the picture and pulls it out to take a closer look. Max isn’t wearing a vest, but he seems to know the people around him who are. She’s puzzled by his smile. He looks more at ease around these men than she ever remembers him being with anyone other than his family.
