Page 119 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
“Cecilia, can you hear me?” He didn’t shout this time. It wouldn’t do any good pulling her out of the nightmare too fast. “I said, come help me with your brother.”
His brain was slow to catch up, but standing at the foot of her mattress, it felt as if he were watching an abstract painting pull together to create a new and terrifying truth. CeCe was hurt. Like Tobias, blood splotches covered her clothes. There were bruises on her arms, and the shorts she wore showed even more on her legs.
“Oh my God, baby.” He reached for her, dying a little at seeing her hurt. “What happened? Did Toby do this?”
CeCe hadn’t left the boat. He might not remember how he got back from the bar or why he had brought them out to Buck Island, but he knew CeCe was his obedient one. If he had told her to stay, she would have stayed.
The sound of a speedboat approaching carried through the air, and he recognized the whine of the craft’s engine immediately. It was one of Bryan’s. “Did Brandy do this to you?”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, and it was like she was electrocuted. CeCe screeched in terror and, scurrying away from him, cowered at the top of the mattress.
“Cecilia, tell me right now who did this.” A sick thought hit him. It was possible. James Fairweather had once gotten off on the pain of others, and Toby was turning into a sadist, just like him. “Was it Tobias?”
She shook harder, covering her head with her skinny arms. “Don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t hurt you.” He placed a knee on the mattress and tried to crawl over to her. “Let me see your face.”
CeCe lowered her arms. Broken. His little girl was broken. Bruises littered her tear-stained face, her bottom lip was split open, and there were gashes covered with dried blood near her temple.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No!” CeCe launched herself at him, clawing and fighting as if he were the enemy. “Leave him alone!”
Tobias thundered into the room. Off balance and catching his shoulder on the doorframe, he screamed like an insane person. “Don’t touch her!”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Easily pulling CeCe off him, Charlie dropped her as gently as he could on the bed. “Someone better start talking.”
“What’s wrong with us?” Toby’s face turned purple as he continued to scream, the veins in his neck straining against the flesh. “How could you do this to her?”
CeCe resumed her position into a ball, the wailing coming from her lips feeling like a knife to the skull. “I didn’t do anything,” Charlie yelled, not quite sure if he was telling the truth. “Now start fucking talking.”
His reflexes were off. Charlie didn’t know what in the hell was wrong with him, but he didn’t react in time, and Toby's fist struck his cheek with enough force that he went flying into CeCe’s small computer desk.
Before he could clear his head, Toby was hauling him up by his shirt. His son had always been a big kid, but the older he got and the more his looks carried weight in the world, the more Toby began to pay attention. Working out was part of his regular day now, and not only had it toned his muscles, but it had also provided the boy with a newfound strength.
Charlie found himself flying again, smacking into a polished wooden wall on the opposite side of the cabin. When his body hit with a sickening thud, it knocked some of his brain awake, and he held up his arms to block the next blow.
“Don’t talk about her that way.” Spit flung from Toby’s lips, his eyes wild as he lost himself to another one of his raging episodes. “Don’t you ever talk about Taylor that way.”
Brandy materialized in the doorway, a sleek black mini-dress hugging her curves. Tossing her strawberry-blonde braid over one shoulder, she cooed, “Yeah—don’t talk about me like that.”
“Brandy,” CeCe sobbed, “help me.”
CeCe had always looked up to Bryan Carroll’s daughter, and in the beginning, when Charlie thought the Carrolls were decent people, he’d encouraged their friendship. But after that night at the pokertables—after he lost their home in a single round of luck—he’d reversed course, wanting his daughter to have nothing to do with any of them.
“Oh, no, CeCe. That’s not right, and the last time I checked, you weren’t an idiot,” Brandy admonished, wagging her finger in disapproval. “What did we say? People with the name Brandy don’t become famous. We’re using my middle name. I’m Taylor now. T-A-Y-L-O-R.”
“I’m sorry.” CeCe cried harder. “I just forgot.”
Charlie opened his mouth to call Brandy something off the long list of derogatory names he kept in his head to use on her, but Toby slammed his fist into his face before he could get anything out.
“What the fuck, Tobias.” Charlie spat out a string of saliva and blood. “Stop and talk to me.”
Toby burst into tears, choking on his sobs as he went over to hold his sister. “You did this to us.”
Lifting a hand, Charlie wiped his mouth, wincing at the pain in his swollen knuckles. With a confused frown, he extended his fingers to examine them. Blood. Dried and caked on his skin, streaks of blood littered his hands.
No.
