Chapter Two

Bella dragged herself into her apartment to see her brother and a few of his scuzzy friends sitting around the living room. There were cans, candy wrappers, and empty chip bags everywhere. There was garbage all over the floor, and she'd just vacuumed the night before, or rather at midnight because it was the only chance she had.

"Yo, sis, did you bring me a beer?" Randy asked without taking his gaze off the game they were watching.

It was times like this that made her want to scream to grow the hell up and find his own place. The damage he was doing to the apartment would come out of her pocket if they moved.

Her brother, Randy, was turning into a horrible human being, and she didn't know what to do. Things were getting worse because she suspected he was doing drugs, more than just pot. She knew it wasn't all her fault, but she still blamed herself. She'd taken over raising him when their mother died in an accident. He'd been a brat before but never abusive, and it just got worse every day.

"No. I didn't have time," she said.

His head swung her way, and his eyes narrowed. "You have time now."

She sighed. "I'm tired, Randy. I've been up since five this morning and worked all day."

"Yeah, so?"

Anger shot through her. "Maybe if you get a job and start growing up, you can get your own place and do whatever you want."

He stood abruptly, and she knew she had made a mistake when she was able to see that his pupils were huge from some drug he had taken. He slammed her up against the wall and pressed a hand to her neck, pinning her to the sheetrock. He leaned in until his mouth was close to her ear.

Her hands came up to grip his and tried to push it away so she could breathe.

"Now, why in the fuck would I do that when I've got a cunt of a sister that's willing to do it all?"

Bella wanted to say she had to because no one else was, but she didn't want to push him further. She knew her brother had always been lazy, but as time passed, he became more violent, leaving several bruises on her body from hitting, kicking, or throwing something at her. He also never used to talk to her like he was.

"What's happened to you?" she whispered. "Where the hell did my brother go?"

He grunted. "Stop being dramatic," he growled.

She tried to push him away, but it was impossible. "Let me go."

"You don't tell me what to do, bitch. You do what I tell you to do."

The situation was getting out of control. Hell, her life was out of control, and she didn't see a way out unless she fled. She'd been saving up for months, but it was taking longer than she thought.

Her own eyes narrowed. "Don't push me too far."

"Or what?" he asked with a smirk.

"I'll call the cops and have you thrown out."

He laughed. "I'm technically a tenant, so you have to go through the courts to get me thrown out or evicted. It takes months."

She knew she didn't have months.

She cried out when Randy yanked her purse from her shoulder.

"What are you doing? Give me that back."

He pushed her away when she reached for it before dumping the contents of her purse on the floor. It scattered everywhere.

"I need money," he said, going through the pile on the floor. "If you had brought home beer like I told you to, this wouldn't be happening."

She continued to fight to get her purse until he pushed her hard, making her fall and her forehead bash against the corner of the table. Blood immediately started gushing out. She pressed her hands over the gash but could feel the blood flow between her fingers, wetting her face and sliding down her neck.

"Fucking cunt. You can't do anything right," Randy said. He looked down on her with his hands full of her money and a hideous sneer on his face.

He turned to his friends. "Let's get out of here. She's got a few hundred, so we can party."

The other men stood. Two of them were laughing as they looked down at her, and another looked angry about the situation but didn't do anything.

Her brother kicked her one more time on the hip, making her cry out as they walked out of the apartment. She tried to stand, but the blood covering her face, the exhaustion, and the pain radiating through her made it nearly impossible. After a struggle, she finally got to her feet and walked into the bathroom.

The first look she got of herself made her angry. How did she let this happen? She grabbed a cloth and pressed it to the gash on her head, where the blood still seeped out. It wasn't a big cut, but it was swollen and bleeding, and of course, a head wound will always bleed more.

It took five minutes to stop the blood, and then she stripped off her clothing, threw her shirt away because of all the blood, and stepped into the shower. She hadn't wanted to wash her hair, but there was quite a bit of blood on it, so she had to.

After she scrubbed her body and hair quickly, she checked the wound to see it started to bleed a bit, so she pressed on it until it stopped again and then put on a Band-Aid. The kick he'd given her in the ribs was already starting to bruise. Her whole body was covered with them, and it was all because of her brother.

She blow-dried her hair and slipped into a pair of old gym shorts and a t-shirt. She didn't glance at the bloodstained carpet as she passed on her way to pick up her purse and a glass of water.

Bella closed and locked her bedroom door. She never felt safe in her home because of all the people her brother brought with him. None of them looked like decent human beings.

Bella put the things she picked up on her mattress before opening the zippered compartment inside. It was partially hidden, so it was hard to see if you didn't know it was there.

She pulled out the money she'd made at her different jobs. She always kept some in her wallet because her brother would look for it, and she learned from experience that if there was nothing there, he'd come down on her.

She also kept two different boxes of saved money. The one her brother could find had several hundred, while the one she had hidden under the floorboard held the thousands she'd saved. She divided up the money and put a hundred in the box her brother could find and the other in her hidden safe.

When she opened the closet door, she knew her brother had been in it because her clothing was messed up. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest as she looked to see if he'd gotten into her hidden safe. The floorboards looked fine, so she went into the box she kept at the back on the closet shelf. She wasn't surprised that it was empty, but she was still devastated her brother could do this to her.

She set the ghost money in it and found another place to hide it so Randy didn't get suspicious, which he would if she kept putting the box back where she knew he'd found it.

She took most of the money and a screwdriver into the closet and knelt in the back. She pried the board up and pulled out the safe. After adding the money, she carefully laid it back in the cubbyhole and reset the board. Even though she didn't think her brother had it in him to figure it out, she took a minute to blow any slivers of wood away from the board.

With a second look, she moved out of the closet. She groaned when she looked at the clock to find it was two in the morning, and she had to be at the diner in four hours.

God, she couldn't take much more of this. She had to find a way to leave Randy without him knowing. She decided to start bringing a few outfits with her in her backpack to the diner. She bet the owner and cook, Donny, would let her keep a box in his office. He had commented a few times that she should leave her brother, but that was easier said than done.

After packing her things for the morning, she moved the bed in front of her bedroom door to keep out anyone who tried to get in. It had happened more than once. They couldn't get through the windows because she rigged a pole to keep them shut so they'd have to break the glass. By the time they'd done that, she surmised she would have the police on the phone and a sharp knife she kept on her nightstand in her hand. She wouldn't hesitate to cut someone if they were trying to hurt her.

She lay down and closed her eyes. She ignored the headache that her fall had caused and thought of all the choices she had. Her car was old but ran well, so she would be able to take it. Fortunately, her brother had a motorcycle, so he never tried to take her car. It would be too small for him, his long body into it, anyway.

Her last thought was she had to move up the time of her escape because her brother could have killed her a few times. It wasn't deliberate, but the next time, she might not be that lucky. His violence was getting worse every day. She didn't think he'd intentionally kill her because she was his money-maker and cleaned the house.

"God, Mama," she whispered. "I know you wanted me to take care of him, but I can't anymore."

Bella knew her mother would understand and would have kicked his ass out a long time ago. She was just glad her mother wasn't around to see her son turn into a lazy, pathetic monster.