This is part three of the Charlie series. All people, places, and events are totally made up and figments of my imagination, strictly for your reading pleasure.
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Casey called me one day, which wasn't unusual; we talked on the phone a few times a week. What was unusual was the tone that Casey used when I answered. I knew her well enough that I could tell something was wrong as soon as she started talking.
"Hey, what's up?" I gave my typical greeting
"Mmm, not much just wanted to call." Casey never called without something to talk about.
"Okay, well its Saturday so I don't have to work, got all the time in the world."
"Oh that's nice..." Casey said, sounding far away
"Casey? Are you Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine" She replied even though I could tell something was wrong.
"Casey, cut the bullshit what is it?" I asked rather crassly.
I heard her try to choke back a sob and the sound made my heart break. Immediately I went on high alert, Casey was not the type to just break down like this.
She finally caught her breath "I need to come see you."
"Ok, I'm here whenever you need me, you know that."
"I'll be there in an hour" She replied right before she hung up.
I was worried, Casey was one of the strongest individuals I knew and I knew it had to be something major in order for her to have to drive an hour just to talk to me right after breaking down on the phone. The hour and a half that passed was possibly the longest hour and a half of my life. I wondered why it was taking her so long to make the hour drive.
She finally pulled into my driveway, she got out of her car with a brown paper bag shaped suspiciously like a bottle in hand. Although she was still beautiful, her clothes were disheveled, not like Casey at all. I stood on my front step, not knowing what was happening or how to handle the situation. She made her way up the steps; eyes covered in big dark sunglasses and walked passed me into my house without a word. She made her way to my kitchen, got a glass out of the cabinet and made her way to my living room. She sat the glass on my coffee table and sat herself on one end of the couch poured herself a large portion of the vodka she pulled out of the paper bag.
I sat on the other end of the couch and watched her down the first glass and pour another before I spoke.
"Will you at least take off your sunglasses?" I asked.
She responded by looking towards me and slowly raised the glasses. What I saw infuriated me, I had never felt this much anger before. It felt like something was boiling up inside and was going to burst. Her cheek was split just below her eye, was still slowly seeping blood and had begun to swell and form a black eye. As soon as we made eye contact, tears began to fall down her face where her eyes were already smudged with tear soaked make-up. She began sobbing so I scooted as close to her on the couch as I could manage as she collapsed in my arms.
She stayed like this for nearly an hour and a half before she ran out of tears. Even though I was almost shaking with rage, I didn't say a word the entire time; I knew she would talk when she wanted to. By the time she sat back up my shirt was soaked with her tears and a little bit of blood, I didn't even notice. I looked into her eyes as she finally began to speak after drinking down another glass of vodka. This was also not very Casey-like, she usually had a two drink max because she got wicked hangovers. (We found this out numerous times in college)
She said a three word statement before falling silent again "He hit me."
I was having a hard time concentrating through my haze of anger. I was always against Casey and Collin being together but I never in a million years would have thought that he would hit her.
"Do you want me to call the police and report this?" I asked through gritted teeth.
She took a deep breath as she thought about my question, "No" was all she said.
She finished the current glass of vodka that she had been working on, by now the bottle was nearly half gone, and just laid her head in my lap.
"What am I going to do?" She asked me.
"You are going to stay here until we figure that out." I stated, not even asking her.
She gave me a slight nod and then drifted off into her own thoughts as I gently stroked her hair. We were both silent, she was too absorbed in her own thoughts and in my current state of pure hatred, I was afraid to say something that would upset her more.
I got off of the couch about an hour later to call Lindsey to inform her what I knew and that Casey would be staying with us for at least the next few days. I also asked her to bring home a suture kit and some stronger than store bought antibiotic ointment thinking that the cut might be deep enough to need help healing.
She asked if I was ok, my voice still shaking with anger, I said I was fine but I had never wanted to kill somebody so badly in my entire life. She asked if she needed to come home so I didn't do anything rash, trying to use humor to break up my mood. I told her I wasn't leaving Casey and quickly ended the conversation so I could get back to my first love.
