Families and Other Enemies Page 5

  “Yeah. Could you...?” Sophia hesitated.

  Kellen already knew what she wanted. Kellen wanted it, too. “I’ll get takeout for all of us. Okay?”

  Sophia’s eyes lit, and she nodded.

  “Burgers?” Ralph sounded as excited as Sophia looked.

  “Yes, burgers. But no onions,” Kellen said firmly. “I’m not transporting anything with onions.”

  She left the two sitting there in front of their cardboard shacks, discussing how Sophia could get an education, then a job to support her siblings. Ralph was quoting the briefer schooling and higher employment rates for technical jobs, and Sophia was eagerly asking what degrees were available.

  As Kellen drove to the Good Knight Manor Bed and Breakfast, she felt an irresistible optimism rise in her. As she went through the drive-up window and got the burgers and shakes, she thought the whole Sophia thing was going to work. She’d get a job, an education, save her siblings from a rotten home life.

  Ralph would listen to Sophia’s advice, find his daughter and talk to her, she’d forgive him, they’d reconcile and Ralph would get off the street and into a home.

  Yeah, and Aunt Cora would recognize her niece and embrace her, Rae would somehow tell Kellen how to be a good mother and Max...well, she didn’t know what to hope for with Max. Maybe good sex. Maybe understanding. Maybe a whole big happy relationship bound up in a gold ribbon.

  And maybe she was delusional.

  The mere thought made her want to fall off her unicorn.

  * * *

  IN LESS THAN an hour, Kellen returned to the food pantry, her grease-stained bag of hamburgers and fries in hand. They smelled like heaven and she started out the door toward the cardboard shack-lined alley when Bridget ran into the prep kitchen, gasping and holding the stitch in her side. “Kellen, come quickly. Outside. At his shack. Three men jumped Ralph and they’re beating him to death!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  KELLEN DROPPED HER bedroll and the bag of burgers. “Call the cops!”

  “I did!” Bridget snapped.

  Kellen sprinted out of the food bank, onto the streets and in the direction of the cardboard shacks.

  Before Kellen got to the alley, she could hear the fight.

  Men. Shouting. The thud of fists on flesh. Cursing. Laughter.

  Mean laughter.

  A thump that sounded like a skull against brick. A scream that sounded like someone broke a bone.

  She passed half a dozen people—and Sophia—fleeing the other direction. Sophia saw Kellen and skidded to a stop.

  “Keep running!” she told Sophia.

  As soon as she rounded the corner, she saw it—three men, young men, beating the hell out of Ralph.

  Ralph was swinging a baseball bat, but he’d gone down on one knee and he was bleeding from everywhere, a lot. With these odds, he didn’t have a chance.

  Without a second thought, Kellen waded in. She punched the nearest assailant in the throat, relishing the whoosh of breath leaving his body for a moment.

  He slammed against the wall, stunned.

  “A girl? You gotta be kidding me.” Assailant number one, the guy with the broken nose that proved that, the night before, he’d tried to assault Sophia, lunged at Kellen, knife extended.

  She whirled in a turning kick that blew through his knee from the side and knocked him flat on the pavement.

  He screamed, lost his breath, screamed again.

  The knife clattered into a slimy pile of...well. Maybe an old brown banana peel.

  She hadn’t realized how much she needed to beat the snot out of someone.

  The third guy got away from Ralph’s bat and rammed himself into Kellen’s unprotected back.

  She stumbled forward, folded in on herself, performed a flip and came up facing him.

  He charged.

  She crouched into fighting stance and smiled.

  He faltered.

  Softly she said, “You dumb son of a bitch, don’t pick a fight with me. I really am a veteran, and I didn’t survive Afghanistan by being nice to assholes like you.”

  He must have heard her and believed her, for he performed the most amazing one-hundred-and-eighty-degree cartoon-character turn in midair, and landed at the front of the alley. “Let’s get out of here!”

  Assailant number one, the guy with the broken nose and now broken knee, dragged himself to his feet and limped after his friend.

  Mr. I-Got-Punched-in-the-Throat tried to come at Kellen again, but stopped at the sound of sirens and headed toward the other end of the alley.

  “May I?” Gently, Kellen took Ralph’s bat out of his wavering hand, aimed and threw it end over end to knock Mr. Throat right in the back of the head.

  He dropped.

  Sirens, and the police cars carrying them, arrived from all directions. Brakes screeched. Shouts of “Stop where you are!” and “Hands on your head!” echoed through the alley.

  Kellen relaxed her guard. The Virtue Falls Police Force would take it from here.

  She put her arm around Ralph and felt him crumple into her embrace.

  He was down. He was bad. This wasn’t fun anymore. She pulled out her phone and dialed 9-1-1. “We need an ambulance behind the Catholic church. We’ve got a man who’s in bad shape. Beaten. Kicked.”

  Ralph held his belly as if he were holding it together. “Stabbed,” he whispered.

  “Stabbed,” she repeated into the phone. “Get here STAT.”

  The sirens got louder.

  Grabbing the clean blanket from Sophia’s cardboard bed, Kellen pressed it to his wound.

  Ralph hissed in pain, his brown eyes wide with suffering. “Sophia, is she—”

  “She ran back to the food bank. Bridget and whoever is there will help her, and I’ll check on her after we get you taken care of.”

  “Captain, what about those men?” he asked.

  Police arrived, the cars blocking off the area, lights flashing blue and red. Uniforms swarmed the area, assessing the scene, unerringly picking up the assailants.

  “They’re lucky the police got here to save them.” She locked eyes with assailant number one as they hauled him away on a stretcher. “Before we really gave them something to cry about.”

  Ralph released a laugh that became a gasp of pain.

  Suddenly, the EMTs were there, their first aid kits in hand, preparing Ralph to be transferred to the hospital.

  Kellen stepped back, gave them room to work. “Will he be okay?”

  The first policeman on the scene started to utter some platitudes.

  Kateri came from the back of the crowd of police cars. “Those careless bastards never think to sterilize their knives.”

  “Chest wound.” Kellen knew what that meant. “He’s in trouble.”

  “It’s not good.” Kateri waved a hand at the scene. “You involved in this?”

  Kellen met her eyes straight on. “So involved.”

  “Good. Thank you. One of these guys is local, two in from out of town. Violence is up since they got together. We’ve been wanting to get them off the streets, but couldn’t ever catch them in the act.”

  “Glad to help.” Aches and bruises began to come alive in Kellen’s body. That flip—what was she thinking? She hadn’t done anything like that since she was a cheerleader in high school. She put her hand to her wrenched back, watched the EMTs load Ralph into the ambulance and asked, “Do you need to talk to me now? Because I should find that kid. Sophia.”

  “We’ll want your account of the proceedings.” Kateri waved her off. “You’ll be in the food bank?”

  “I hope so. I hope that’s where Sophia went.” Kellen limped back toward the church. She arrived in the food bank’s brightly lit and dingy hallway to see Bridget and Sophia sitting on a bench. Kellen breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Go
d she hadn’t run away completely.

  Bridget held the girl as Sophia cried and gasped, “He told me to run, so I did.”

  Bridget exchanged a glanced with Kellen. “Sophia, you did the right thing.”

  “But they were beating him,” Sophia wailed. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt. For me. Not him. He was good to me.”

  “He’s a tough old bird. He’ll be okay.” Bridget met Kellen’s eyes questioningly.

  Kellen shook her head and grimaced.

  Bridget sighed and closed her eyes as if in prayer.

  Kellen came and knelt beside Sophia. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Sophia froze and stared. And remembered. “They...showed up at the end of the alley. Everybody started running. Ralph said no, no running, they’d like that. He got the baseball bat. Kept it hidden. Said when he started swinging then I should run. Those men—they came in kicking at the cardboard shacks, laughing, stomping. They looked at me and said...they said they were going to rape me. All of them. They said...they said...”

  Bridget hugged Sophia even tighter. “Kellen, would you make some herbal tea and bring it to my office, please?”

  “Right.” Kellen went into the kitchen, found the kettle and put it on the burner with a shaking hand. Within ten minutes, she came back carrying three steaming cups of “calming” tea on an old, painted wooden tray. She handed out the mugs, placed the tray by the door and sat on the plastic chair Bridget offered her.

  Sophia was still trembling, but the hysterical edge had left her voice, and she was clearly in the middle of telling Bridget about what brought her to her current situation.

  “My mother, um, she used to just drink, but now there are pills and...and cocaine. Smack. I used to go to school and have some time when I didn’t have to deal with her, but last autumn she told me that I needed to ‘contribute.’” Sophia stopped to take a drink, the cup clattering against her teeth.

  “Contribute?” Kellen asked gently.

  “I had to stay home from school and take care of the younger kids. If any of them acted up, Mom would beat me. She said it was my fault they weren’t better behaved.” Sophia wiped her eyes, careful not to press against her black eye. “They’re good kids, honest, but she hits them, too. I think she broke Evie’s nose. I was desperate. I thought if I left for a while—found a job, earned some cash—I could come back and save them. Sounds stupid, right?”

  Bridget shook her head sadly. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds very courageous.”

  Sophia fought off a sob. “But now look what I’ve done. Ralph is in the hospital, and it’s all my fault. Everybody gets hurt because of me.”

  Kellen and Bridget exchanged pointed looks.

  “It’s not your fault,” Kellen said firmly. “You didn’t ask to be attacked.”

  “It was Ralph’s decision to defend you, and we’re both glad he did.” Bridget squeezed Sophia’s hand. “No matter what happens, Ralph is glad, too. That’s the kind of guy he is.”

  “He’s in the hospital. That’s expensive. How will he pay the hospital?” Sophia was clearly someone who had her shares of financial worries at a young age.

  Bridget sipped her tea and smiled. “It just so happens I am an amazing organizer, if I do say so myself. I will make sure Ralph gets whatever help he needs. I’ll start tonight. It’ll give me something to do instead of worrying about... Ralph.”

  “You like him?” Sophia asked.

  “He’s a nice old guy,” Bridget said. “He does the right thing. That’s pretty rare in this world.”

  Kellen thought Bridget spoke from her soul, her heart, her gut. She knew Bridget had seen too many bad situations and tough times, and that made her appreciate Ralph all the more.

  Kellen thought about Aunt Cora, about Kellen’s flight away from her. She thought about Max and Rae, and passing them by.

  I’m one of the people doing the wrong thing. Something had to change.

  Sophia turned to Kellen. “Would you help me get into the Army? It will give me income for the kids, and I want to learn to defend myself as easily as you do. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, but the Army won’t take you. You’re too young, and you need a high school diploma.” Kellen waved down Sophia’s bubbling objections. “But how about this? I’ll help you get a job, get your GED, and in the meantime, I’ll teach you to fight. When I’m done with you, no one will pick on you ever again.”

  “But what about my brothers and sister? That doesn’t help them now.”

  “Your mother is in a lot of trouble.” Bridget knew what she was talking about, and she didn’t hesitate to say it. “It’s illegal for a parent to keep a child out of school, to beat a child, to be an addict. You and your brothers and sisters will be going to foster homes.”

  “No!” Sophia lunged at Bridget, grabbed the hem of her shirt. “We’ve got to stay together. Please. We’re family. That’s all we’ve got!”

  Bridget put down her cup. “Honey, I know. But your mom’s going to get worse and someone’s going to get killed. Things have got to be different.”

  “No, please.” Sophia began to cry. “Foster homes—they’re bad.”

  “Who told you that?” Kellen asked.

  “My mother!”

  Kellen didn’t spare the words. “Your mother’s a liar who’s manipulating you for her own good.”

  “I’m not stupid.” Sophia was enraged. “I’ve heard about foster homes. Remember a couple of years ago here in Virtue Falls when that couple had a kid in high school football and a foster child they kept in a cage?”

  Bridget nodded at the unknowing Kellen. “Yes, it’s true.” Bridget handed Sophia tissues. “But I’ve been a foster parent.”

  Uh-oh, Kellen thought.

  Sophia sat forward with a gasp. “Would you take us? All of us? I’d keep them in line, even the little ones.”

  “No, dear. I’m sorry.” Bridget was very gentle, but very firm. “I don’t do it often. I’m single. I don’t have any kids of my own, and there’s a reason for that. This job takes all my attention. I’m here in the day and the evenings—” she gestured at the clock that showed 8:10 p.m. “—and I think foster kids, especially, need extra care.”

  “We wouldn’t be any trouble!” Sophia’s face glowed with hope.

  “I was just trying to explain,” Bridget said, “all foster parents aren’t bad.”

  Sophia sat back with a thump.

  Bridget continued. “When you get in foster care, you’ll get a job. You’ll go to school. Your brothers and sister will go to school. It will be better. I promise.”

  “We won’t be together. No one will take four kids. My mom told me that, too. She might be a liar, but she’s right about that, isn’t she?”

  Bridget hesitated.

  Abruptly, Sophia stood up. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” She left the room almost at a run.

  Kellen and Bridget exchanged glances.

  “She’s going to bolt,” Bridget said.

  Exactly what Kellen thought. “I’d better go check on her.”

  From the hallway, she heard a squeak, a thud and a growling sound like a mad dog chewing at a bone. She rushed out, Bridget on her heels.

  A tall woman—thin, angular, large boned—straddled a struggling Sophia. She had her hands around the girl’s neck, squeezing hard enough to crush Sophia’s esophagus. The growling rose from deep inside her, from some dark, venomous place.

  Kellen sprang at her, kicked her in the ribs.

  As if she didn’t feel any pain, the woman turned her head and stared at Kellen. Her face was bright red. Her eyes were all white iris and black pupil with only a tiny rim of blue around the edges. Her lips curled back from her teeth. Kellen knew who she must be.

  Sophia’s mother. She looked like a rabid dog.
r />   Kellen kicked her again.

  The woman shrieked and sprang at Kellen, a violent charge so overbalanced Kellen was able to spin her and knock her flat on her face. Kellen jumped on her back, slammed her face into the floor, caught one arm and twisted it behind her back.

  The drugs had made the woman oblivious to pain, given her power and stamina. She bucked, still shrieking, and the free arm flailed wildly.

  Kellen barely hung on, trying to grab the arm, oblivious to the scene around her.

  Suddenly, a second body, and a third, landed on Sophia’s mother, subduing her with weight and brute strength. The flailing arm was grabbed, a pair of handcuffs appeared and attached and two officers picked up the swearing, ferocious, kicking woman by the armpits and dragged her out.

  In the sudden quiet, Kellen could hear Sophia breathing, one deep breath, then another. She glanced over; Bridget sat beside the girl, cradling her in her arms.

  Thank God the kid was alive.

  Gasping, Kellen sat on the floor with a thump.

  Kateri knelt beside her. “We’ve got EMTs coming for Sophia. Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

  Kellen shook her head.

  “Two fights in one night. That’s impressive.”

  Kellen nodded yes. “Is Sophia...?”

  “I’m okay.” Sophia was sitting up, leaning against the wall. A collar of bruises ringed her neck. But her eyes were bright and angry. “I guess that’s it. We’re going to have to go to a foster home, aren’t we?”

  “I promise it will be okay.” Bridget held an ice bag to her bruised throat. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Yeah, right.” Sophia closed her eyes, and slow, hot tears slipped down her cheeks. Still hoarse, she asked, “Sheriff, how’s Ralph?”

  Kateri wore her “cop with bad news” expression. “Not good. He’s headed into surgery for a punctured lung.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON THE DAY of Ralph’s release from the county hospital, Bridget had arranged everything for his celebration. Everyone had a role to play, and Kellen’s role was to pick him up and bring him back to the soup kitchen.