Last Resort(5)

When she walked into the one-bedroom place, she was shocked. It was gorgeous. She’d never been back here; when they had visited eight years ago, they had stayed in the front building. Her Aunt Karen had lived here and had run the club since the early eighties. She had been the wild child, though she had always been accepted in the family.

Where Julie had been soft-spoken and very modest in her appearance, Karen had been her complete opposite. Even though their faces matched perfectly, the twins had chosen completely different attitudes and lifestyles.

She walked into the apartment and noticed the flowered colonial furniture. Karen’s clothing style had always been dark, but her apartment reflected a more feminine side.

The tan tile floors needed a good cleaning, some of the furniture as well, but it was better than she had expected. Walking through it, she noticed the out-of-date appliances in the small kitchen. She knew her budget wouldn’t allow for new ones just yet, but maybe she could find some used ones that were in better condition.

Walking to the back, she noticed the bathroom needed some work as well. When she walked into the bedroom, she gasped and rushed to the sliding doors. Outside, a small rooftop patio garden area was in full bloom. It hadn’t been tended in the last two years since no one had lived there, but still the flowers and trees were beautiful. She made a mental note to buy some shears to trim back the bushes that had grown wild. An iron table and chairs sat in the middle of the stone pathway. On either side of the back-alley garden were low brick walls which helped kept the secret patio hidden. It was a small slice of heaven in the middle of grunge. She loved it. She could imagine herself spending most of her free time here, reading, working on her laptop, or just soaking up some sun.

Walking back in, she noticed the bedroom for the first time. A large four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room. Old white lace hung off the tall posts, giving a canopy look to the bed.

She tested the mattress; it was soft and would be comfortable enough. Lying back on it, she closed her eyes for a moment. She could do this. She was only twenty-two, but the business classes she’d taken while waiting tables would serve her well.

Her business plan had impressed the bank enough that they had given her a loan to fix the place up without batting an eye. Now all she had to do was get her hands a little dirty and get started.

Her brothers were going to be there first thing tomorrow morning, but she just couldn’t wait to get started. Heading back out to her car, she grabbed her bags and carried them in through the side gate and walked up the outer stone steps to her new apartment. Changing out of her clean clothes, she pulled on a pair of old jeans and an old T-shirt. Tying her long dark hair back with a bandana, she pulled out a box of cleaning supplies from her car and got to work downstairs. The office would have to wait for her brothers to arrive since it would have to be gutted and someone would have to climb up on the roof to patch the holes. No doubt, Marcus would be the one to get up there and do the patching.

Marcus had always been fearless. When she first arrived at the Grayton place fifteen years ago, she’d never imagined having three brothers and a sister to grow up with. But the kids had bonded and had been inseparable, at least until Marissa had run away suddenly, shortly after her seventeenth birthday.

Cassey frowned as she started to clean, thinking about her sister. She missed her and wondered what had caused her to leave such a wonderful place. Whatever it had been, she hadn’t confided in her and that hurt worse than any beating she’d ever received from her real parents.

As she worked, she remembered the last night she’d seen Marissa. They had walked down to the lake and had gone swimming, something they had done since bonding the first summer they’d lived in the house on the hill with the Graytons.

“Do you believe in fate?” Marissa asked as she floated in the cool water, looking up at the dying light. Her long blonde hair floated around her tan face. She’d just turned seventeen three days earlier and they’d had a large party that weekend.

“Fate?” Cassey thought about it. “Sure, I guess so.” She was floating, much like Marissa, but her dark hair was shorter and closer to her head.

“I’m destined to be like my mother,” Marissa blurted out, causing Cassey to stand up and look down at her.

“Why would you say that?” she asked, frowning down at her sister. She’d heard the horror stories of Marissa’s past. Her mother had had her when she was just sixteen. She’d been so into drugs, no one had thought that Marissa would survive the first week. But she had, and she’d lived long enough to suffer the wrath of a mother addicted to crack. At least until Lilly had swooped in, much like she had with Cassey, and rescued her.