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“Thanks. So are you.”
“No, not really. Not like you. I don’t think I could have done what you did for us,” Daisy said. “Sergeant Sparks was right. You’re pretty special.”
“I’m not. I just couldn’t lose you guys.” The words sounded selfish to her ears, and she shook her head, wiping at her watery eyes. “I don’t know, maybe you would have been better off in a foster home, instead of living in this hovel with me.”
“Stop it. You did the best you could, and no matter what happens, I hope you know that. Who knows where we would have been if you’d made a different choice, but I’m standing here on my eighteenth birthday. I’m leaving for college, and that’s partially because of you. You are the best big sister in the entire world.”
Violet hugged Daisy back, overwhelmed by her words. Then, suspicion rolled in. Daisy was laying it on awfully thick . . . almost like she wanted something.
And then she chuckled wetly. “You saw the car out the window?”
“You mean the black Honda with the red bow and Happy Birthday, Daisy written on the windshield?”
Violet’s light amusement exploded into loud laughter. They had shopped for cars last week, and Daisy had fallen hard for the car, but she’d only saved three thousand and the guy was selling it for eight. After telling Daisy no, Violet had called the man back and asked if she could have it looked over by a mechanic she trusted. Later, she’d met the guy for coffee and asked if he’d take six thousand for it. At first, he’d balked, but eventually he’d let her have it for six thousand five hundred.
“Yes, I mean that car. Don’t you want to know how I got it?”
“No, I knew you’d get it,” Daisy said.
“How’d you know that?” Violet asked.
“Because you can do anything, no matter what obstacles are in the way.”
Violet released a giggle and squeezed Daisy until she cried, “Oxygen becoming an issue!”
“I don’t care that you are buttering me up, I needed to hear that.”
Violet’s little chicken timer went off, indicating the cake had cooled enough, and she let Daisy go to pull the cake out of the fridge. When they were kids their mother had baked their cakes, and Violet had since carried on the tradition, getting pretty good at decorating along the way.
“Can I go see it?” Daisy asked.
“Sure, the keys are in my purse on a Hannah Montana key chain,” Violet said.
“Ugh, that’s going in the trash,” Daisy said.
Violet pulled her frosting kit from the cupboard, her mind wandering back to the problem at hand. Why wouldn’t Casey have told her about the abuse? It didn’t make any sense to keep this from her, especially since she’d be the first one to support him. Did he blame her because she’d been working and going to school? Did he think she didn’t have time for him anymore? Or was he embarrassed?
And how was she going to bring it up to him? What if whoever had hurt Casey was hurting someone else? If she waited until he was home, would he open up more than if she brought it up while he was at Alpha Dog?
No, this couldn’t wait. She would try to be as cautious as possible, but she had to let Casey know that she was here. That no matter what, she had his back and that he didn’t have to be afraid anymore.
One thing was for sure; until she talked to him, nothing, not even Daisy’s excited squeals, could distract her from her dark thoughts.
Chapter Thirteen
VIOLET SAT IN one of the Alpha Dog visiting rooms the next day, twisting her hands in her lap painfully as she waited for Casey. She’d hardly slept last night, trying to imagine how she was going to ask him if Dean’s suspicions were correct. The scene had gone a hundred different ways in her head, but the worst was when he walked out of the room without saying anything.
The door opened, and Casey came in, looking sullen.
; “Hey, I brought you some of Daisy’s birthday cake,” she said.
“Thanks.” He sat down and reached for the cake, pulling the plastic wrap off the top.
“So, how are you? How’s your morning so far?” she asked.
“It sucks, thanks for asking. That dick Dean has been up my ass since I got here.”
