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Cassidy couldn't sleep, her father's men were arguing again. Usually the sharing of the money from whatever illegal business they had done ended before nightfall, allowing her to enjoy a night's rest without the sound of their riotous voices. That was when her father didn't beat her mother. It was difficult to sleep through your mother's screams, especially when you didn't know if they would be her last, if your father would finally end her life with the fists he had used to control it.

She wrapped her pillow around her head, trying her best to shut out the noise but it was no use. She could still hear the voices loud and clear, the threats. One had threatened to have she and her mama gang raped if her father did not give him what he felt was his fair share of 'the money.' Her father asked him to sod off.

He wouldn't go through with it, she knew. It was way too much effort to start searching for her and her mama simply to carry out his threat - it would have been a different thing if either she, her mama or both of them were on sight, she had learnt early in life not to underestimate the vices of her father's men when they were either very angry, or very happy. She had escaped being raped by a hair's breath when she was thirteen.

She looked down on her body now as she lay on the bed. At twenty years of age, she still didn't see any difference between her thirteen year old body and the way it was now. She was still looking scraggly and underformed, so that if she didn't have a very feminine face, she would have been mistaken for a boy.

What attracted men to her... to her mother, to any woman. Men who worked with her father, what made them want to do awful things against the will of these women, Cassidy could never tell, and she was shocked to find out some women enjoyed it.

She and her mother had been immigrants, ilegal immigrants but her mother had refused to tell her where they had come from. Joe Cassidy had took them in, and her Mama's gratitude had slowly gave way to weariness and then to dispair when she discovered, like she had told Cassidy, that she had only jumped from frying pan into fire. Joe Cassidy was no man of charity, he had not helped Cassidy and her Mama escape a horrible past, he was simply their horrible future. He kept her and her mother hostage to his whims and caprice, threatening to expose her mother's past at the slightest provocation, while to the world they were husband and wife, partners in crime and pleasure.

Cassidy wondered what it was her mother was running from, what was worse than living the way they did with her step father, but no matter how much she asked, her mother's lips were sealed concerning that topic. She had been renamed as they moved in to the United States and into Joe Cassidy's life, her mother had simply named her Cassidy, and when she was pressed for a surname, she was called Cassidy Cassidy, or Double Cassidy by the children who used to pick on her in high school.

Her Mama had tried her best to protect her from her father's fists and his ilegal dealings all she could, but recently he had started sending her on little errands to deliver packages - she needed to earn her keep he had said, then the errands got more complicated and more frequent. He had already started hitting her, since the day she escaped the I'll treatment his men had planned for her, when she was just thirteen.

She often dreamed of a home, a house for her and her Mama. Nothing lofty or expensive, a simple house in a peaceful neighborhood that she and her mother could call her own. She didn't need to be sleeping to have these dreams, her longing to be far away from her father was so strong that sometimes she drifted away, her thoughts far away, in a home that would be filled with laughter instead of her and her mother's screams.

She consciously relaxed her shoulders and let the tension drain from her hands as she unwrapped the pillow from her head. The smile that formed on her face afterwards wasn't conscious, it was simply an overflowing of how she felt. She wasn't in Joe Cassidy's house any more, she and her mother were far away where neither him nor her mother's past could get them, and she was finally happy.

*"*"*

The man in front of Cassidy was being difficult. He had no reason to be, but he was probably bored and wanted to have a little fun at her expense. He had the power to have that fun.

Cassidy wondered why human beings were that way, each of them flaunting whatever little authority they had simply because they could. She tried not to roll her eyes, and smiled instead. You could solve a whole lot with a polite smile.

''And how am I sure you don't have weapons hidden underneath those rags of yours?'' The man asked, blatantly undressing Cassidy with his eyes.

Perhaps a polite smile wasn't going to solve this particular problem Cassidy thought. She was going to have to try a little threatening. ''Are you questioning the integrity of Joe Cassidy?''

The man actually laughed at that. "Joe Cassidy's integrity is questionable alright, but it ain't his integrity I am questioning, it's yours, and I dare say he'll not give a damn about that.''

Cassidy backed up at the share look of malevolence in the man's eyes, suddenly realizing that she didn't have the situation under control like she had thought.

She had been sent by her father to deliver a package, it was a routine delivery, and she had done the drop several times, other times it had been done by some of her father's men, and once by her father himself. She was quite familiar with the security procedures, and even familiar with the men who worked for Mr. Zacharia, the man she was eventually to hand over the package to. She had never had issues before with the front room security man - as she liked to refer to him, she couldn't understand what had gotten into him that day, but she knew it wasn't good.

''I'm sure there's no need to cause trouble.'' She said taking another step backwards and hoping her voice did not betray her shaky nerves. ''You can just let me in so that I can deliver the package, and I promise I'd never mention this to anyone, let alone my father.''

The man snorted, a gleem dancing in his tiny eyes. ''You really think I give a damn what your little bitch mouth spits out to whoever?'' He was walking towards her now, and he did a quick movement with his fingers and a switch blade appeared in it. ''I'm going to search you little Missy, I'm going to search you however and whichever way I feel like, and you better be a good girl and keep your mouth shut - well unless you want to make them animal noises.'' He added, laughing softly to himself at his own joke.

Just as he was about to close the distance between the two of them, Cassidy screamed. She was half aware that was not the right thing to do, it could annoy Mr. Zacharia -- something even her father was afraid of doing, but when she saw the door in front of her leading to his private room open, she was filled with gratitude.

The security man was back at his post, six feet away from her within the blink of an eye, the switch blade no longer in sight.

''Is there a problem here?'' Mr. Zacharia asked, and Cassidy would rather have swallowed her own tongue than answered. He was dressed in only a pajama pants, and he looked like her screaming had interrupted something he had been doing, he didn't look happy at all. She could only think that the reason he had come out himself to check the disturbance had been because he intended to do something about it. She wasn't going to take the fall for this one.

''That man over there insisted that he take the package from me, the package I was supposed to deliver to you. He had a switch blade.''

Mr. Zacharia turned to look at the security man, the man was already shaking his head vigorously, but no words escaped his lips. Mr. Zacharia turned to look at her again, then seemed to make up his mind. He brought out a gun and shot the security man right in the forehead without even blinking an eye. He turned again to a shaking Cassidy, who had already started saying all the hail Marys she knew in her mind, and simply held out his hand. ''The package.''

She nodded immediately and handed it over to him, thanking her lucky stars that she might live to see the next day.

Mr. Zacharia took the package from her, turned it over from one palm to another, then looked back up at her. Tell Joe Cassidy I don't want you delivering my package anymore.'' Then he turned and was gone.

Cassidy kept thinking about what she was going to tell her father when she got home. She knew he was going to hit her, but perhaps if she had a more believable story to tell, he might not hit her that much, or perhaps if he wasn't that angry- or that happy. She could never be sure with him. She only knew sometimes he was brutal, hitting her like he actually wanted her dead, and other times he did it half heartedly, like he didn't really want to but he had to to make sure she didn't forget her place. She had heard him tell her Mama those exact words when she was five.

Her step father had an innate fear that she was going to run away from him, and so he kept her locked up within the house. She didn't have any friends, had seldom ever been to any social gathering, and after she had completed her high school education, she didn't go out apart from when he sent her on errands, and even then, he gave her ridiculously little time to complete her task and be home if she didn't want to get beaten, so that sometimes she had to run home, drawing stares to herself as she ran, her clothes worn out and her hair unkept, people sometimes thought she was a street begger running away with someone's wallet.

She didn't run today, she was already late, and when she couldn't come up with a believable lie to tell Joe Cassidy, she settled for the unbelievable truth. It could not be avoided, come what may, she was going to taste of her step father's fists that day, and instead of trying to avoid it, she concentrated on how to endure it.

He was getting old, and with his old age came more frequent drinking, and his punches were getting slower, less painful, but they however didn't fail to land more bruises on her tender skin to the once that had already been there.

The moment Cassidy turned into the street where her house was, she knew something was up, everywhere was deathly quiet. There were a group of people hanging around her house, and when she got closer, she realized to her horror that they were cops. Whatever could bring cops to her house wasn't good. It wasn't good for her father's business, and whenever his business took a fall for anything, she and her Mama paid for it.

Her mama... She suddenly had a wierd feeling that her Mama was in danger, and she broke into a run trying to get to her mama before it was too late - but why it should be too late, she didn't know. She noticed the police men around her house laughing, but she didn't have time to consider how strange that was before she was caught viscously from behind by one of the cops and hand cuffs slammed into her wrists.

''My mama, she choked out. I need to make sure my mama is okay.'' She choked out.

The cop that was holding her laughed, his voice making dred coil up in her stomach. ''And how do you know your mama ought to be in danger huh? I'd wager you and your Papa planned to kill her all along, and this was no sucide.''

Cassidy fought to process what the man had been saying sucide... kill... her. Which her? Her mother! Her mother was dead. Her mind went blank and at that moment, she couldn't remember her own name. Her mother was dead. Her only companion in life, the only person that ever cared about her, even putting her welfare first. Her mother was the reason why she had survived various forms of brutality from her step father, the only reason she still believed in a future, now her mother was dead.

Tears did not come with the realization and acceptance of that fact, instead her mind optained a very strange kind of clarity. It was only then she noticed her father in handcuffs at the back of a police car. The cops who had been loitering about finally got into a car, while she was shoved into the back of another one by a cop as he read her her rights.

The last thing Cassidy could remember thinking of before she fainted was that the United States would finally be rid of her horrid family if she and her father ended up guilty of whatever it was they were being accused of and sent to jail. It sounded like a neat plan someone could come up with.

Cassidy felt a cold splash of water on her face that woke her up. It took her a moment to realize she was in a holding cell, handcuffed to a table. The man standing above her opposite the desk was a smallish man of about five feet, and even though she was sure she would be the same height with him if she was standing, she knew it did nothing to determine just how ruthless he could be when he chose to.

It seemed this was one of the times he had chosen to be ruthless, Cassidy thought as the little vman took a seat in front of her. She had heard of dirty cops - her step father had had to grease the palms of one or two of them for the smooth running of his business, she needed no see to tell her they existed, but then she had heard of legendary cops, the do-gooders who believed they owed it to humanity to clean up the streets, the problem with this cops was that they believed in 'the big picture' whatever that was, and they usually went to any length, even breaking the law, to achieve their aim. These last kind of cops, they were the dangerous kind.

Merely looking at the man now seated opposite her, Cassidy knew he was one of them, the good cops who had their hands dirty. She had never been more afraid in her life.

''I'm Inspector Davis Gray, and I'll make this easy for you.'' He said calmly. ''I'd tell you the scenerio, how I think this happened. You'd shake your head any time I'm wrong, and nod your head when I'm right. You're a smart girl, I've seen your grades. This shouldn't be too difficult for you. Do you understand me?''

Cassidy nodded. Even if she had been asked to speak, she couldn't bring herself to, her tongue felt too heavy for her mouth.

''Okay. So your step father decides he is tired of your mother, that he no longer wants her around right?''

Cassidy nodded.

''And so he plans to kill her.''

Cassidy was unsure. She nodded, and then shook her head, but Inspector Davis continued.

''He plans to kill her, but then it might mess up his plans, considering that he has never been known as a killer before, so he steps up his game hitting her, hoping he might rupture some internal organ or something - hurrying her on to an early grave.''

Now convinced, Cassidy nodded.

''And then, he keeps hitting her, but your mother just wouldn't die. I hear they're built strong where she's from, I also hear her former husband, your real father might want to say hello, but that is besides the point. The point is your mother doesn't die, so he convinces you that she has to go.''

Weary, and confused, Cassidy shook her head.

''Anyway, he hasn't really killed anyone by himself, but for some reason he wants to do this himself, so he's not that experienced. He figures he could make it look like she committed sucide, so you both agree, then he sends you to buy the rope.''

Cassidy's mind flashed to the moment she had been sent by her father to buy a rope, her eyes bulged as she opened her mouth immediately to deny being involved in her Mama's death.

Inspector Davis raised a hand. ''Ssh! Remember you can either shake your head to disagree, or nod to agree but only that. ''

Cassidy shook her head vigorously, as she finally felt the tears prick her eyes, then she didn't know whether she was shaking her head in the negative anymore, or nodding, she just knew that her whole body was shaking, and she could not control it. The spasms that rocked her body rattling the cuffs that chained her to the table, creating the most horrible sound she had ever known.

She felt arms come around her shoulders, gentle arms, and the owner, a woman was whispering something into her ear, she didn't really hear what it was, but it had a calming effect on her, and slowly, she felt the terror recede, as her nerves calmed, leaving only an unconsolable sorrow in it's wake.

Her eyes focused on the woman. A middle aged blond in plain clothes. She looked like she had a daughter Cassidy's age, and something about her was so reassuring, Cassidy immediately knew she could trust her.

''I'm Sarah.'' She said simply uncuffing Cassidy. ''And even though I work with the police, nobody calls me a cop - I don't look like a police officer you see.'' She said that like it was supposed to be a good thing, and under different circumstances, Cassidy might have shared a smile.

She sat instead rubbing the area were the cuffs had chaffed her skin.

The woman sat down in the seat opposite her. ''I'm very sorry child, I had no idea they were sending Davis to you, or I would never have allowed it. Davis is for hardened criminals, he has no business speaking with... with people like you.'' She added the last bit in a softer voice, and was silent for a while.

''The thing is.. your mother - it was a sucide, everyone damn well knows, lady climbed a chair and hung herself to your ceiling fan.'' She shut Cassidy an apologetic glance. ''But we are all so tired of your step father, he's slippery as an eel - we haven't been able to catch him red handed with any of his activities.''

The woman seemed too chatty for someone who was actually a cop. Cassidy understood compassion from a middle aged woman to a twenty year old girl who had just lost her mama, what she couldn't understand was why the police woman was chatting with her like they were best of friends, then it hit her - the good cop, bad cop strategy. They had used it on her, and she had to agree it worked very well, one cop acting like he was the worst thing out of hell, and the other like she was her protector, all this done in other to gain her trust, so that she would do whatever they wanted without a second thought. She almost laughed at the realization that it was all an act. Much more sure of herself now, Cassidy pinned the police woman with her pale blue eyes. ''What do you guys want me to do?''

The cop seemed to see that her trick had been discovered, she smiled, actually imppressed. ''You,'re smarter than we thought aren't you? We want you to tell us all you know about your father's business and the men that worked for him, or we'd turn this suicide into a murder, and make sure the both of you go down for it.''

Cassidy stared at her feet for a while. ''The fifth... I have the right to remain silent -''

''Oh please spare me that crap.'' Sarah retorted. ''I might have put on an act for you a while back, but Davis hadn't, and trust me, we can make a murder rap stick if we want to. The society is already tired of you Cassidys as it is.'' She paused and seemed to consider a moment. ''Of course, if you help us, we'd return the favor and give you a clean rap sheet. No word spoken about all the times you made drops for your father.''

Cassidy nodded. She knew what she had to do.

Peter Covensky hated his mother's house parties. They were pretentious, but more pretentious were her charity balls were she dressed in her finest and tipped all the press that was present, so that they only published photos of her that had been taken from a good angle, the cameras clicking away while she gave some silly speech about having a deep love for humanity and the burden of the poor being her burden too.

And the end of such charity balls, she sat down with his father to count the achievements of the day which had nothing to do with the number of lives they had been able to touch, the success of the ball had only to do with the number of dignitaries that had been in attendance - more support for his father's re-election she had told him once, and when he had accused her of being a hypocrite, she had snapped. The poor did get the help they needed from her charity balls, who cared about the content of her heart she had said.

He cared. He cared that not only his mother, but his father were hypocrites. In the eyes of society, his father was the finest senator to represent his state, and his mother was the perfect wife to him, and the perfect mother to her two children. One, the brilliant architect Peter who had been part of the team that worked on the reconstruction of the state's recreational park, and the second child a teenage girl, who though she made some mistakes was growing up into a very responsible young lady.

The mistakes his sister had made were nothing minor like a parking ticket, and had more to do with drug possession and possession of unlicensed weapons, but his mother was so good at smoothing rough edges, none of his sister's crimes ever made news paper headlines.

It was not like his mother wasn't a good wife and mother, and neither was he any better than the rest of his family, he snorted cocaine once in a while with his privileged friends and he had never been known to have a steady girlfriend, instead he changed the women he slept with even more than he had a cup of coffee in the morning, and he had not exactly been the ideal son to his parents, yet he hated the pretence. There was something so souless about condemning people for crimes he and his family actually committed, and it got to him.

He should be grateful however, he mused, that this wasn't one of his mother's charity balls, but only a house party. All he had to do was try not to Screw the pretty daughter of Senator Graham. It was not difficult to ignore her though, she was the typical spoiled rich brat, and that could get tiring, but it didn't hurt the eyes to look at her. She was dressed in a white sequence gown that was a bit too short for the type of gathering they were in, and she was wearing something that was obviously a wig, in of all things, the color pink. She liked to do shocking he noted with a smile, or rather, she thought she liked to do shocking. She didn't. Her type was the kind that claimed to like danger - until she was faced with, and then she'd run with her tail between her legs, or she'd simply close both eyes with her hands and scream for her papa.

She picked a glass of champagne from one of the waiters that had been hired for the evening, and handed Peter a glass in his own house party.

''Is this party as boring for you as it is for me.'' She rolled her eyes. "I mean no offence... It must have cost a lot for your mother to organize this - it certainly cost a lot for my mother to attend, I mean, her ball gown cost a small fortune.''

Peter smiled down at her, champagne in hand and pretended to listen as his mother gave one of her typical speeches, then he drank everything in one gulp when her speech ended in a toast. ''So then, how much did it cost?''

''Normally it doesn't cost anything, I just have to really enjoy it.''

Amused, Peter smiled. ''I was talking about your gown, it must have cost a huge furtune. It definitely suits you -''

She waved off the compliment. ''Oh, I got it at the thrift store. You should have seen the look on my mother's face.'' She giggled. ''So, do you think I'm going to enjoy it? And I am not talking about my gown.''

This time, his smile was predatory. ''Only one way to find out.''

Peter was easing his way out of the ball room, the Senator's daughter whom he hadn't bothered to ask her name following in his wake. He had finally left the ball room, and was still deciding were to take her to, when his phone rang. It was his friend, a member of his billionaire club - people he did business with, calling him to remind him of a meeting they had, he was already late.

He shut the little woman by his side an apologetic smile. ''Sorry Princess. I've got to go, maybe some other time.''

Her face contorted up in rage, and Peter wondered why he ever thought her beautiful. ''Well don't come running back when you find out just what you've missed.'' She hissed and stormed back into the ball room.

Peter shrugged and continued on out. He had a feeling sex with her was going to be one of those moments when you didn't fully enjoy something, not because it wasn't good, but because it wasn't worth the hype.

The three other members of his club were already seated by the time Peter walked in. The room was dimly lit, and the strippers that wriggled to the slow music coming from the speakers looked exotic enough. They hadn't been his idea, but he couldn't complain with the members of his club that insisted on them.

''Petra.'' He said, shaking hands with his closest friend and the man that was called by the Italian version of his name.

Petra smiled. ''Pete. Don't tell me your mother's kept you this long.''

Peter nodded at the other two men, one Bassett, another senator's son, and the other his classmate at Harvard. ''Don't tell me you all called me out of a charity ball to come smoke cigars and watch strippers.''

Bassett laughed. ''Sit down first Peter. We have a lot to talk about.''

Cassidy was walking aimlessly. She had told the police everything she knew, going against the number one thing her step father thought her - only dogs snitched. The female cop had been persuasive, and then she had thrown in the same threats the man that came before her had done, but in the end, it wasn't the persuation or the threats that had loosened Cassidy's tongue, it wasn't even the promise of police protection - Cassidy laughed at the thought of the police actually breaking a sweat to ensure that she was safe, especially to protect her from her own gang members.

Cassidy had sang to the cops because she was tired. She was tired of having her life dictated to her by her mother's past, her father's brutality and by her own fears. She told the cops everything because she was done living in the shadows. But with every decision came consequences, and Cassidy knew she couldn't go back to her house, if she didn't want to die before the next morning. The cops had offered to keep her in the cell for her own safety, but then what would be the use of her new found freedom if she was still being locked up.

Now, she was without a mother, a home, and a step father for that matter. Joe had looked her in the eye when it had been obvious to him that she snitched, and told her he was going to cut her into very little pieces if his men didn't beat him to it, an she had no doubts that he would if given the chance.

Her stomach growled, reminding her just how hungry she was, and her shirt was still soaked from when the Inspector had poured water on her to wake her up. The chilly evening air danced around, finally making her teeth chatter, and making her feel even more hungry. She tried to remember the last time she had eaten, but her mind kept slipping back to the moment she had walked into her street and everything went wrong. they hadn't even allowed her to see her Mama's body.

She realized that she was lost, she had strayed into a part of town that she had never been before, the streets were clean, and the people that walked by looked more cultured, they were dressed so nicely, they ought to be in the movies. Cassidy thought about walking up to any of them to ask for a job, any job, but the way they doubled their pace, and turned their face the other direction when she even so much as looked at them told her everything - she didn't belong here.

An anger she had never felt before coiled it self at the pit of her belly. Perhaps she may not leave the neighborhood with a job, but she was going to go with enough money to buy herself some nice clothes and food for a long time, after all, why disappoint them and prove she was different from what they had already judged her to be.

Cassidy couldn't tell why, but she was drawn to a small curious looking shop. When she got close enough to press her face against the glass, she noticed it wasn't a shop, it was a night club. A private club going by the few people inside. Good, any wallet she snatched here would be worth it. She was just sliding into the club when she felt iron fists grip her from behind. She winced from the pain, but she was no stranger to being hurt. It was now or never, she turned around to face the guard that had grabbed her, and sung her teeth into his neck. He yelped and muttered something about vampires, loosening his grip, and Cassidy dashed off immediately, then she collided with someone.

Her eyes took in his height, his broad shoulders, muscles that still bulged through the confines of an evening suit, then her eyes came up to his face. He was the most handsome man she had ever met, and seeing him, being close to him stole her breath away - but only for a moment. His wallet seemed like an impossible task at the moment, but her eyes shut to the watch that gleamed from his wrist, she was sure it would cost a small fortune. She saw in his eyes that he knew what she had planned the moment it entered her mind, but that didn't stop her. She had once been discribed to be as slippery as an eel, and as quick as a serpent. She quickly snatched his watch of his wrist, wiggling away from his grip, then she was fleeing the place as fast as her feet could carry her, and trying not to stumble on her own feet.

Peter stood for a moment after the street theif had gone. His security did nothing to pursue her, they already knew that if he had wanted her caught, she wouldn't have escaped his grasp in the first place, at the very least, he didn't send them after her, nor did he notify the other gaurds outside.

Peter didn't really know why he was on her side, it wasn't the power of a woman for he didn't even consider her beautiful. Her features were too angular for that, and her hair, even though it looked full and jet black, was in desperate need of a hair dresser's attention... Everything about her was in desperate need of attention even her clothes. Perhaps that was what had persuaded him in her favor, she was the first 'poor' he was coming across, and not one of his mother's political schemes, and by letting her take his watch and get away with it, he finally felt like he had done something for charity.

Author- June Estee

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