Bruised Knuckles and Empty Lies

Chapter 20

Author's note: better late than never. sorry guys!!

Alex's POV

*one week later*

"Long time, no see, kid," Dave sneered as the officer who brought me in passed me to him. Dave grabbed my arm harshly. I tried to pull out of his grasp, but the handcuffs around my wrists prevented my arms from moving too far in any direction. He led me to the back of the station I had become so familiar with. I hadn't seen Dave since I got put into the other foster home. He and Maribeth were deemed "unfit" foster parents, so I got stuck with Judy and Matthew. Or, at least, I had been. They won't take me back after this.

I stayed silent. I had gotten my anger out, so now all that was left was exhaustion and homesickness, which is stupid. Home meant nothing to me. Maybe that's a good thing.

The blood from my nose was starting to harden against my lips. I'd grown numb to the metallic taste in my mouth by the time I got to my holding cell. Dave stopped a few feet short of the cell to uncuff me. He didn't say a word as he led me into the cell and left, locking the barred door behind him. I scoffed. He was never the sentimental type, but I expected some backlash or insult or something that would cause me to swing for the second time tonight. That was when I remembered I didn't eat all day. It must've been at least nine or ten by now. My stomach growled, and I tried to ignore it. I sat down, flinching as my back hit the wall. Well, maybe not "sat." I kinda just fell and caught myself on my hands when my back hit the cinderblock wall behind me. Man, I was real beat up this time. Fuck.

I closed my eyes, resting my head against the cold wall to try to soothe the pounding headache Matthew so generously gave me. Trying not to remember the events of tonight, I distracted myself by thinking of Derek. I wondered what he was doing right about now. We haven't talked in a week after Judy found me talking to him that night on the phone. The next morning, she had Matthew break it right in front of me, so that was great.

After sitting for long enough to make my butt go numb, I caught myself dozing off. I shifted slightly, hoping to regain some feeling. The rest helped my headache a little, but my limbs felt stiff and achy. I couldn't tell if it was from the fight or from me sitting, curled up on the concrete floor. Maybe it was both. Either way, I felt like shit.

Footsteps approaching me reminded me where I was, snapping me back into reality. I couldn't see who it was, but I could tell there were two people, and one of them was wearing heels. As they came into view, I recognized one as the cop who brought me in, but I didn't recognize the woman he was with. She held a thick folder. Oh. A social worker.

The cop unlocked my cell, and the social worker walked in, looking at me like I was crazy. He left the door open, but he stood right outside of it just in case I made a run for it. I totally would have, too.

"Hi, sweetheart, I'm Monica. Can I ask why you aren't sitting on the bench?" she said in a fakely-cheerful tone.

"Keeps me grounded," I answered simply. She nodded and sat on the bench across from me, opening up her folder and taking out a pen.

"So, Alexis, your new foster parents will be-"

"Wait, what?" I interrupted her. "I thought after this, I'd be sent to a group home."

"As I was saying, your foster parents will be here to pick you up shortly," she continued. I didn't know how to feel about that. "Until then, I need to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight."

"No thanks," I replied, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the wall. I tried to contain the smile on my face. What? I gotta have fun somehow.

"Alexis, I need this for your records."

"It's Alex, and no thanks, I'm good." I grinned, feeling the dried blood crack against my face.

"Your foster brother, Owen, claims that you defended him from your foster father. Is that true?"

"I don't remember," I shrugged.

"The neighbors reported a disturbance, stating, and I quote, 'a girl screaming next door, followed by a series of loud noises.' Was that you?"

"Nah, I think the TV was on. False alarm." God, messing with this lady brought me back to the last time I was here. Her face flushed. "See? I'm the epitome of health." I chuckled, seeing her horrified expression.

"We gotta stop meeting like this, babygirl."

My heart froze. Did I hear that right? I looked up and saw Derek enter my cell. Tears of relief flooded my eyes. My hand came up to my mouth in shock. Derek.

"Oh my god," I whispered, mostly to myself. In a split second, I had shot up off the ground and wrapped my arms around Derek's waist. He held me tightly as I tried, and failed, to not cry.

"I know, sweetheart, I've got you," Derek said. He kissed the top of my head and gave me one last squeeze before pulling away to examine the damage done to my face. His eyes looked so sad as he took in the blood, bruises, and tears that stained my face. "Let's go home and get you cleaned up, then we can talk about what happened."

"Home?" I croaked, my throat tight from crying. I wiped away some of my tears and stared into his eyes, which were starting to water. Derek nodded.

"Come on." Derek slung one of his arms over my shoulder, leading me out of the police station.