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He saw it coming. How could he have not? Kelly had told him she wasn't much of a talker and that was understandable. He had seen that many times. It was also the way her eyes not so subtly assessed him. It wasn't like she was checking him out. No, it was as if she was sizing him up. Trying to figure out what kind of damage could be done to her and from the way she flinched when he reached to shake her hand the damage she had faced was extensive.
Derrick sighs, more like whines as he stares down the street she had run down not very long ago. The doors of his car still open and his keys were rested in the ignition, as he kicks the curb with his Gucci dress shoes. He didn't care about the damage the shoe would take, he didn't care about the wetness that was on the back of his suit, and he didn't care that at any moment someone could easily hop his expensive vehicle and drive off into the night.
None of that mattered to him. It was all material really. He could replace it but he couldn't replace the pure concern and ultimate worry in his mind and undoubtedly his heart thinking the worst things that could happen to the girl who fled. Maybe he should have been more laid back. Maybe he was too aggressive in his greeting. Or maybe the girl has just been through a lot, Derrick thinks to himself.
He's had runaways. Anyone's who's fostered as many as he had or was just in the business like, Kelly, has had the experience. But never have they fled from his vehicle. Usually it was maybe the second night of staying in his home. Flighty is what they call it. And, well, Aaron had definitely taken flight. He should have known. There was pure terror in her eyes when he leaned over just to put his wallet in his the glove compartment. Which is something he's done for years.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what she was so afraid of. It was him. She was downright horrified. He noticed how she pressed herself against the door as if she'd be able to put herself through it. It was her rigid posture. And Jesus Christ, the girl had a panic attack not even fifteen minutes after they had left the youth home. She had issues, problems, and Derrick couldn't know whether they were mental, emotional, or physical. Maybe they were all three but he did know they had to be stemmed from men.
Kids--Girls especially--who grow up in the system and as young as she was had horror stories of what the men do to them. It was disgusting. Vile. Derrick could retch at the thought of it but never in his life had he been the reason someone fled. It made him sick to think Aaron, thought he wanted something in exchange for the money he had offered her. He did want something; but that was for her to be safe.
His phone rings loudly from his suit pocket and he knows it's someone from his house because of the ring tone. He sighs loudly before answering the phone with a monotonous hello hearing the loud sounds of shooting and yelling from the other end.
"Dad, we're--Rylie go to the stairs! No! The other way you dumb--dumbbutt--Hello? Oh yeah, Father, we're starving. Please feed us."
Derrick pinches the bridge of his nose, "Cam, there's food in the fridge. You all know how to cook."
