Chapter 2

24.5K 597 79
                                    

Alex's POV

I caught myself dozing off after Agent Morgan left. I appreciated him staying with me to help pass the time, especially since the night guards were sometimes creepy. He was sweet and a breath of fresh air compared to what I have to deal with at home, but that was all it was. A break from reality. Before I knew it, the cell door squealed open, waking me up.

Although I still felt groggy from sleep, I managed to push myself off the wall and stand up. Dave was still laughing about something with one of the other cops. He had no greeting to offer me, and I didn't have one for him either, so it worked out nicely. Dave started walking, and I followed a few steps behind as the other cop locked up the cell I had just been in. As we walked, I pulled my hair up in a messy ponytail to try to salvage my composure. I probably looked, and smelled, like shit after a night in that holding cell. It wouldn't be the first time, either.

We left the building, making me squint at the intensity of the sun. It had to be around eight or nine o'clock in the morning by now. Dave unlocked his ugly, white car just as we got to it, and I climbed into the passenger's side. He started the car, fiddled with the radio for a few seconds, then pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove in complete silence, he reached into the back seat, grabbed something and tossed it in my lap. My makeup bag?

"Clean yourself up. We've got visitors," Dave snapped. Oh, CPS must be making a surprise visit. I wondered if Morgan snitched about what really happened. I sighed and unzipped my bag.

"Lose the attitude."

"I could say the same for you, Dad," I sneered, smirking slightly. Dave's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel a little too hard. He bit his tongue, knowing that I could easily tell CPS exactly what went on in that house, but I knew once they left, I would pay for that one. I pulled down the sun visor so I could use the mirror and quickly applied makeup, doing everything I could to cover the bruising, but covering up the split lip proved to be a little harder, especially since I only had so much time before we pulled into the driveway.

Dave parked his car and shut off the engine, but before I had the chance to move, he told me, "Leave the makeup in my car, you can grab it later. You started a fight in school-"

"Yeah, I know the drill," I cut him off, throwing my makeup bag in the back seat after inspecting my face one last time. It didn't look like I had any makeup on, which is what I was going for. I swung open my door and met Dave on the porch. He unlocked the door and swung it open, creaking a little from the age of the house. He waited for me to go in first, so he could close and lock the door behind us. I took a left and went into the living room where Maribeth and two CPS workers were talking. The bittersweet smell of coffee filled the room, making my stomach growl.

"Hi Alexis, my name's Cassandra," the female worker smiled, coming up to me and extending her hand. I shook it, not wanting to upset her. "Is it okay if I ask you a few questions in private?"

"Sure," I agreed.

"Great. Let's go to your room, shall we?" I nodded, leading her upstairs and into my room. Once we were there, she closed the door behind herself, and I sat down on my bed. She pulled my chair away from the desk and placed it so she was able to sit directly across from me. Cassandra sat and opened up the file folder she was holding and uncapped her pen.

"So, Alexis, you're graduating soon! How exciting!" she smiled. I shrugged, but then I remembered I needed to act well-adjusted for me to be able to stay, so I forced a small smile.

"Well, let's get right into it, shall we?" she didn't let me reply before continuing. "We received an anonymous tip this morning-" and there it is. I know this guy meant well, but it was more of a hassle this way. "-and someone said they were concerned about your safety in this house, so I have a couple of routine questions for you to make sure you're safe and doing well, okay?" She talked like she was a preschool teacher and I was one of her students. As much as I wanted to roll my eyes and shoot something clever her way, I stopped myself and just nodded instead. "Good. You've been here for...two years now. In any of that time, have you overheard any major arguments between your foster parents?"

"Nope," I lied. "They never really fight."

"Great." She scribbled down a note. "How are you adjusting in school? Any friends or clubs?"

"I don't have time for clubs and sports because I like to focus on my academics, but I do have a few good friends." Another lie.

"Mm hm. It says in your file you've had some mental health issues in the past. How are you doing with that now?"

"Not a problem anymore." I had to stop myself from checking to make sure nothing was peeking out from inside my sleeves.

"Okay, and you just came back from a night in a holding cell? How'd you end up there?"

"Oh, I uh, I got in a fight at school." I peered over the edge of my file and saw her write down "anger issues." I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep my mouth shut.

"Have you experienced encounters with drugs and alcohol?"
"Nope, I'm totally clean." At least that one wasn't a lie.

"Fantastic. Have you experienced any abuse, emotional, physical, or sexual during your time in this house?" she asked bluntly.

"Nope, nothing like that. They treat me well here." I hoped she didn't notice my clenched jaw.

"That's what we like to hear," Cassandra exclaimed cheerfully. She jotted down a few more sentences before closing the file with the pen inside and standing up. "It seems to me you're doing really well in this house. Who knows? Maybe you've found your forever home!"
"Yeah, maybe," chuckled a little. I followed her out my door and down the stairs, stopping at the last step so I could lean against the railing as Maribeth and Dave said their goodbyes to CPS and the two workers apologized for the misunderstanding.

As soon as both workers had left, Maribeth left the room and Dave dropped the facade. He stormed over to me and grabbed my arm before I could get away, and he dragged me into the living room, pushing me against the wall.

"Who the fuck did you tell?" 

Bruised Knuckles and Empty LiesWhere stories live. Discover now