Her mother’s bedroom door was flung open, and she came running inside.
“What in the hell is going on?” she screamed, staring at Casey accusingly.
Brock managed to break away from Jackal with Fade’s help.
“I went to take a piss. The lights were out, and I went into the wrong bedroom. I thought I was with you. Jackal didn’t give me time to explain.”
“Guess Renee likes it pretty rough, huh? Jackal said sarcastically, as everyone took in Casey’s reddening face and torn nightgown.
“Go on back to my bedroom while I handle her, and make sure you find the right door this time,” Renee snapped as Brock stepped around her, going out into the hall.
Casey’s eyes widened when she heard a loud thump from the hallway. Then Casey was forced to hear Brock retell his lies to Max.
She shakily got to her feet, running out of the bedroom, unable to listen anymore. She escaped through the house, jerking the front door open. She ran out onto the front yard, stopping for a brief second at the sight of several bikers sitting on their motorcycles, starring at her like she was crazy. She began running again in a different direction, not knowing where she was going, only that she couldn’t go back inside that house.
A high scream came from her when a large body tackled her, taking her to the grass. Sobs tore from her throat as she clawed the grass, trying to escape the body pinning her down.
“Shut up! You’re going to wake the whole fucking neighborhood if you don’t quiet down. I’m not going to hurt you!” Casey found herself flipped over, staring up at Max’s harsh face. “I’m going to let you go. Don’t run; you tore your feet to shreds.” He stood, lifting her up into his arms.
Crying, Casey put her hands on his chest, trying to get away from him.
“Stop. I’ll drop you. I’m still trying to catch my breath.” The large biker didn’t seem to be out of breath as he carried her back toward her house.
“I don’t want to go back in there,” Casey cried out when Max would have gone up the first step. His foot came back down as he turned toward the bikes.
“You have anywhere else you can go?” His concerned eyes stared down at her.
“No.” Casey cried harder.
Ginger came out the front door with her purse in her hand. “She can go to my place.”
“That cool with you?” Max asked.
“Yes.” Anywhere was better than going back inside and seeing her destroyed bedroom and having to face her mother.
“You go ahead and take her. I’ll get Jackal to give me a ride after I take care of a few things.”
Ginger reached into her purse, handing Max her apartment keys.
“I need my books,” Casey managed to say between hiccups.
“I’ll get them for you, honey. You go with Max, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Casey nodded as Max started his bike, riding past the other bikers standing around. The ride to Ginger’s apartment was a long way, and Casey had her emotions shuttered down by the time Max parked in front of the apartment building. He got off the bike, reaching for her, but Casey flinched away.
“I can walk.”
“Not on those feet you’re not.” Bending down, he picked her up.
Casey knew it was fruitless trying to fight and lay stiffly against his chest while Max carried her to the first floor apartment, juggling her as he took the key out of his pocket and opened the door. Inside, he gently placed her on a bright blue chair before lifting her feet to the unsteady coffee table.
“I’ll be right back.” Max left her sitting alone in the living room.
Casey stared at the tacky room filled with bright colors and knick knacks that sat around the room. It smelled heavily of old cigarette smoke, and there were a couple of empty beer bottles sitting on the table next to her feet.
Max came back, carrying a chair from the kitchen and a few other supplies he dropped on the coffee table.
“Hold this on your face.” Max gently placed a bag of frozen peas on her cheek. “It will help with the swelling.”
Placing the chair in front of her he sat down and then lifted her feet to his lap. She tried to jerk them back, but his large hands around her ankles held them motionless.
“Be still while I clean them for you.”
“I can do it,” Casey protested.
“You have a problem with me helping out?” His green eyes stared into hers, challenging her.
“I guess not,” Casey acquiesced, leaning back against the chair and tugging her robe around her tighter, while clumsily keeping the frozen peas pressed against her face.
“Don’t worry, I’m not into kids,” he said, gently rubbing a damp cloth against the bottom of her feet.
Casey straightened in her chair. “I’m not a kid. I turn eighteen next month.” When his eyes flashed upward, she realized how her words could be misconstrued. “I meant, I’m not a young child.”