Chapter 6.

That day in the bathroom, Callie vowed never to harm herself again. She still hurt inside, every moment of every day, but what she did didn't solve her problems, and she knew she had to set a better example for her little brother. It would kill her if Jude, her baby, hurt himself imitating something reckless he'd seen her do. He was all she had to live for. All that really mattered. She wouldn't take away any more of his innocence by letting him see the ugliness she saw. Doing so was letting Liam win.

As hard as it was, life went on. Callie went to school, and the rest of the time, she and Jude stuck together. She appreciated his presence. Especially at night, when in the darkness, her throat would tighten so she could hardly swallow and panic overtook her.

Consequently, the Olmstead household was uneventful, until about a week after the cutting incident. It was early evening, and Callie and Mrs. Olmstead were in the kitchen, washing dishes. Jude was in the den doing homework, and Liam was watching a ballgame in the living room. The phone rang, and Mrs. Olmstead answered. After she hung up, she called Liam into the room.

"Dad's car broke down at work," she told her son. "I need to pick him up. Can you keep an eye on the kids?"

"Sure," Liam told his mother, smiling. "No problem."

Callie's stomach sunk to her feet. They would be alone with Liam! "Can Jude and I go with you?" She asked her foster mother.

"Don't be silly, Callie." Mrs Olmstead replied. "Jude is doing his homework and you have homework too. I'll only be gone twenty minutes, tops. Liam will be here."

That's what I'm afraid of, Callie thought, as Mrs. Olmstead grabbed her car keys and hurried out the kitchen door.

As soon as she was gone, Callie turned to leave the kitchen. She'd get Jude, and they'd lock themselves in her room, where they'd be safe. But before she could get away, Liam grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Ow!" She said. "Let go of me!" Liam pinned her against the wall. She was terrified. She called out for Jude, but it came out weak and raspy. We wouldn't hear her from the den, which was on the other side of the house.

"I feel like you've been avoiding me, Cal," Liam said in a cocky voice. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?"

"You get the hell away from me," Callie told him. "Get your hands off of me."

Liam ran his hands down the length of her body, then rested them on her chest, pushing his fingers into her breastbone. "Since we're alone, I thought we could pick up where we left off. What do you say?"

Callie tried to twist away, but he moved in closer, pushing her against the wall even harder. She could feel his hot breath on her face. "No. I said get away from me," she told him.

Liam laughed. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he said. "Because you sure could've fooled me."

Callie spat in his face, and tried again to get away. Liam slapped her, and she cried out.

"Remember what we talked about, Cal." He dug his fingers into her hips, pressing his body against hers. "I can destroy you, so you'd better keep your mouth shut and do what I say. It would be a shame if you ended up in a group home."

Callie was so scared, she felt numb. He cheek stung where she'd be struck. Liam began to kiss her, running his hands down her sides. He stuck his tongue down her throat, gagging her. She hated feeling him so close. She just wanted him to go away. She felt his hands going up her shirt, when something happened. The lock on the kitchen door clicked, and Mr. and Mrs. Olmstead entered the room.

Callie was relieved they'd come home before something truly awful happened, and better yet, they'd caught their son in the act! Now they'd have to see Liam for what he was.

Mr. Olmstead's face turned a dark shade of red, as he took in what was going on. "You!" He shouted, pointing at them. "What do you think you're doing, you little tramp! Get the hell away from my son!"

Callie felt deflated. What was wrong with this man? He jerked her away from Liam."I give you a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me? I ought to throw you out on your ass tonight!"

Mrs. Olmstead began to cry, and Jude, aware of the yelling that was going on, had just come into the room. "Leave my sister alone!" He yelled.

Mr. Olmstead told him to shut up. "Both of you ungrateful little brats are out of here first thing tomorrow morning," he told them. "I'd start packing tonight."

That night, Callie cried herself to sleep. Jude rubbed her back and wiped the tears off her face, until exhaustion overtook them both.

The next morning, Mrs. Olmstead told Callie and Jude to get ready. She was going to drive them to Social Services. Mr. Olmstead wasn't bluffing. They were really leaving. Callie knew that deep down, her foster father knew she wasn't to blame for what happened. But turning a blind eye to the abuse was just as bad as doing it himself, as far as she was concerned.

"I'd just as soon let you stay, if it were up to me," Mrs. Olmstead told Callie, as she helped the siblings gather their belongings.

Mrs. Olmstead had always been pretty nice to them. Her problem was that she was weak. She'd never defended them, and put way too much faith in her husband and son. But Callie still felt compassion for the woman. "Thank you for taking care of us," she told her.

"You're welcome, Callie," Mrs. Olmstead replied. "I only wish things had turned out differently."

"Me too," Callie told her foster mother.

"You take care of yourselves," the woman told them.

"We will," said Jude, as Mrs. Olmstead hugged them. They shouldered their knapsacks and followed her to the car.

Liam was standing in his bedroom doorway, when they passed by. Callie almost wanted to thank him for being so stupid. His getting caught was their ticket out of that house. She knew the pain he'd inflicted on her might never go away completely. What happened would stay with her forever. But who knew? Maybe the truth would come out someday. At least she and Jude would be somewhere, anywhere, else.

Callie didn't have high expectation for their next foster home; she'd been let down too many times. But as long as they were together, she knew they'd survive. Besides, wasn't each foster home just a way-station on their journey? In a few short years, Callie would age out of the system. Then, if they hadn't found a permanent home, she'd adopt Jude herself. They'd start a new life. Callie watched the Olmstead house disappear from view as they drove away. They had a long road ahead of them. She only hoped that whatever was waiting at the end would be better.

The End.

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