Psycho Inside Me (4 page)

“No, you probably wouldn’t have gotten in that much trouble, but can you imagine how that would have followed you around the rest of your life? You have no idea how even the innocent are alienated after accusations are made.” He put his arm around me and tried to pull me close.
“And you forget, I was there, too. You weren’t the only one involved. I helped. I’m in this, too. Just as much as you are.” He ran his hand over my back, up and down, closer and closer to the bulge of my knife.

“Well, I don’t know how you can help me with this one, Deegan.”
I pushed from under his hold, but the tension in his arm told me he’d felt it. Crap. I’d said too much.

“
What is this? Cassie, did you bring a damn knife with you?” He pulled me to the deeper darkness of the bushes. “You’re here planning on killing this guy?”

“No!” I held up my hands, letting him hold the weapon for a moment while I explained. “It’s protection. I can’t count on a fingernail file protecting me. You and I both know that was luck last year. Something so stupid shouldn’t have been able to kill him. Like a pencil.” I bit my lip
, afraid of how much I should actually share. “I’ve had it since Christmas. I wasn’t sleeping very good. Now that I have it, I sleep an hour or two more than I was.”

He turned the knife over and over in his hands, inspecting it but I have no idea how since it was dark as hell where we stood.
“You weren’t really just going to go in there and, what? Talk to him?”

“Well, I, uh, honestly it sounded better in my head when I planned it.”
Grabbed in the dark, my hand tingled and I went to clasp his fingers in return, but gripped only the handle of my knife.

His silhouette moved a step away. “I can’t believe you planned this without me.” Pain
hollowed his words.

Replacing the knife in its sheath, I sighed. “Deegan.” How did I tell him I did everything with him in mind? “I didn’t think you’d b
e interested. Plus, I really don’t want to hurt him.”

“No, but you’re assuming he won’t try and hurt you. He hurt Kari, right?” He moved into the orange glow from the streetlight. “Let’s go
talk
to him.”

The challenge was there, I just couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was.
“You mean, you’ll help me?”

“Sure, Cass. Talking should be easy. Afterwards, I’ll jog home with you.” His shoulders moved in the dim light. “Come on.”

I moved up beside him, relief welling inside me and also a little joy. He hadn’t left me behind. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, first of all, it’s going to have to be unplanned. You should’ve included me in this when we were running.” Deegan held up his hand at my grunt. “I’m just saying. But okay, we don’t have that luxury on this one. Does Kari have a backdoor?”

“Yeah, and it’s never locked.” I watched the front window for movement or shadows – anything that would give away the uncle’s position. A little bit of a thrill filled me, like playing spy when I was little.

“Okay, no problem. I’ll go around that way and come in the back. If he tries anything, I’ll b
e there. If all he does is talk, then I’ll slip back out and we can have an adventure free night. Sound good?” He nodded at the house as if it would stand up and say yes.

“Yes, actually. Thanks, it sounds perfect.” A solid knot between my shoulders loosened when he offered a solution. He’d be there to help me. I wouldn’t get hurt or in trouble. He’d help me. I breathed easier. “Should we separate now? Or do you want to go to the door with me?” Our whispers grated my nerves. Whispering should only be done in church, where my dad ruled with an iron claw.

“I’ll go back there now. Who’s car?” He pointed at the boxy shape of an older Chevy. Rust spots darkened the light paint.

I thought hard. “I’ve never seen it before. It must be his.” The pile of junk contributed to the “creep master” descriptions from Kari. Part of me wanted to use my knife to slash holes in his tires, but I didn’t want to waste su
ch a nice sharpening job on crappy rubber.

Deegan reached out and touched my arm. “Are you ready? I’m here, okay?”

How had he known my stomach practiced gymnastics in my ribcage and my heart pounded in my feet? My tongue refused to move. I nodded. He tightened his grip fleetingly then disappeared around the corner of the house, into the dark.

Come on, Cassie. Remember why you’re here. Kari. Her brothers. Any other kids this jerk might want to hurt.
The same wave of sickness assailed me from after killing Bobby. Never had my nerves twisted so tightly. Talking to him. I’m just talking to him. He won’t touch me. Keep breathing.

This was
my attempt at doing something right, freeing Kari from fear and pain, keeping her brothers safe. Deegan seemed to understand better than I did the importance of acting on the information I had. His hesitancy, if he had any, didn’t build a brick wall which he couldn’t get around like mine was. Holy crap. Worse than the wall I hit when running.

I climbed the stairs.
Bugs buzzed around the porch light and didn’t move when I opened the screen door. Their doorbell had broken a long time before I’d met her. I rapped loud on the panel, the sound loud and uncaring.

Suddenly, the calm I’d been tryin
g so hard to force settled on me like a tight blanket. A thud and muffled curse reached me from inside. I touched the handle at my back to reassure me. Oh whatever. It was more to bring me back to what the heck I was trying to do. I had no idea. Nothing. And every second that passed brought Kari’s uncle closer. And closer.

Fear turned me around. I couldn’t do it. He’d be bigger than me. He’d hurt me. I’d never get out of there. What the hell was I doing?
Oh my gosh, run Cassie. Get out of here!
I pivoted my foot, ready to run the other way.

The door creaked when it opened. I spun back and met a man’s eyes
at the same level as mine. Pock-marked skin covered the lower half of his face like a ski mask, under a beady gaze that took me in faster than I could drag in another breath. I lifted my hand, like a small hello. My calm returned. “Hey, is Kari home?”

He glanced over his shoulder, then back to me. “Nah. But she should be
back in a few minutes. You can come in and wait.”
Sick S.O.B.
I couldn’t even cuss in my head.

“Sure. Thanks.” I out-waited him as he stood to the side to let me pass. No way was I going to let him get behind me.
“I’m Cathy, by the way.” He’d never get to say my name. Never know who I really was.

“Sheldon. I’m Kari’s uncle. Nice to meet you.” Missing a front tooth
and the rest a color I’d rather not identify, Sheldon motioned me to the front living room. An open pizza box displayed a half-eaten pie beside a twelve pack of beer waiting for him on the coffee table. Decorated in a classic style, Kari’s house lacked clutter. Her mom liked simple.

Less was best in my book. Less to mess me up.

My advantage lie in the familiarity of Kari’s house. Sheldon hadn’t been there often and his alcohol drenched blood would give me an added benefit. He wouldn’t try to do anything since he couldn’t be that sharp.

“Go ahead. Have a seat. You look like you might be a little warm.” He eyed my chest.
Yeah, not too obvious there Uncle Sheldon.
He tapped his finger on his thigh. “Why don’t you get comfortable? I’ll get you something to drink.” He pointed toward the beer. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer...” The question lingered.

I giggled, adding to my youth. Kari’s age of fourteen appealed to the bastard. He’d raped her at thirteen. Maybe I could pull off twelve with my
already-small breasts oppressed by two sports bras. “I’m not old enough to drink.” I giggled again. Oh, ick. I had enough respect for myself at fourteen, I recognized the giggle sounded… I didn’t have the word, but the sound coming out of my mouth irritated the crap out of me.

Sheldon placed his hands on the couch. “Go ahead and sit down.”
He smiled, but it seemed off, like he’d already shifted to predator. “How old are you, Cathy?”

Hopefully, Deegan had made it inside.

Yeah, I wasn’t stupid. I recognized Sheldon’s size wasn’t a threat, but as a teenage girl I also had an innate knowledge that men were stronger than me. No matter how much I ran. I twisted the watch on my wrist. I’d worn the Minnie Mouse one from my parents. Pink. Not the biggest fan of the color anymore. “Twelve. I’m almost thirteen. I go to school with Kari.”

If I sat, I’d be more vulnerable – or so he hoped. Thinks were shifting too fast toward physical. I hadn’t had a chance to confront him. Maybe coming in and acting younger than I was hadn’t been the smartest choice. If I sat lower than him, I’d be in a position to protect myself, but I’d lose the preferable option of running.
I claimed a spot on the easy chair next to the couch.

His
smile widened with a lecherous sheen. Like an alligator, he had too many teeth, even with one missing. “I’ll get you something to drink. Kari should be home soon.”
Yeah, right.

Oh, man! I wanted to yell out for Deegan to hide, run, something, but I bit my inner cheek.
Tipping off Sheldon wouldn’t help Deegan at all.

The i
diot returned after about five minutes. He handed me a glass with ice and a dark liquid, most likely soda. No way was I drinking something he’d opened. My mom had once told me men slipped drugs into drinks to take advantage of girls. The advantage part I hadn’t understood at the time, but I had a pretty good idea it had to do with what he wanted to do to me. What Bobby had tried to do. The crazy thing was, most drugs didn’t need to have a flavor, odor, or a color. This made them dangerous as crap.

“Where did Kari go?” I cradled the drink in my left hand
, clenching and unclenching the other under the cover of my knee.

Sheldon rounded the couch and sat on the arm, inches from my shoulder. He
swung his leg, brushing my lower thigh with his ankle. I fought against recoiling. He needed to be comfortable, complacent, and think I would be the perfect victim. “I’m not sure. She promised it wouldn’t take long.” Fingering his mullet cut hair, he pointed at the DVD clock. “It’s kind of late for a twelve-year-old to be out, isn’t it? Aren’t your parents worried about where you are?”

I pretended to adjust my sweatshirt. Actually, I maneuvered the knife into an easier position to grab.
My laugh sounded forced to my ears, but he bought it with a grin. Motioning with my drink at myself, I reminded him. “I’m almost thirteen and my mom and dad aren’t together. Mom’s at work. She’s never home on the weekends. I usually visit Kari on Friday nights.” I’d have to do some serious praying for all the lying I was doing. Dad would pee his pants, if he knew about my sins. Even with my new fashion, he still thought of me as his good little girl.

Good little girls get raped.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry. Almost thirteen. Drink up, Cathy. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.” He mispronounced the last word, making it sound like dehydranted. But my nerves returned, drying my throat and blocking the laugh I should have pushed out.

The good little girl inside me wanted to go home. But the side that wanted justice for Kari’s pain and safety for the young boys refused to budge.
I’m doing this. I can do this
.

I just didn’t know what to say or how to start. Did I accuse him outright? Or did I question him? At the point I had reached, I worried I’d be testifying myself, if I lived.
Lifting the cup, I sniffed while allowing the liquid to reach my lips. I didn’t open my mouth or drink any of the pop, but I pretended to which made him drop his shoulders in relief.

No idea what he’d tried drugging me with left me questioning how to act.
Should I start to feel loopy? Sleepy? Amnesiac? Unsure, I went with sleepy. Easiest to pretend and fastest to move out of. If I pretended to be loopy, I could lose my balance and it increased the odds he’d over-power me or – whatever. I wasn’t going with loopy.

If I couldn’t make myself ask him what he’d done and tell him to stop, then maybe I could make him show me and then threaten him to stop. My options had funneled down to a limited one on getting the hell out of there alive and virginity intact and it involved playing along for a little bit more – until Deegan had a reason to come in and rescue me.

Of the other two drug-effect options,
I wasn’t quite sure what amnesiac meant. I’d just heard my parents talking about those kinds of drugs when Dad had to go in for his colonoscopy. Maybe they kept a person from remembering? I’m not sure.

Angled to separate the entryway and the living room, the couch could either help or hinder me depending on my position. I s
tood from the chair I’d claimed, sloshing my drink to the side, hitting the only living plant in the house.
Oops, crap.

Sheldon jumped from his perch
, arms splayed. “Hey, where you going?”

Adding a droop to my eyelids, I altered my speech. “Just to the couch. Sorry, I’m really tired all of a sudden.” Huffing into the couch corner on the opposite end of the cushions, I curled my legs up and rested my head on the free armrest. I’m not ashamed to admit I even added a fake yawn to my act.