Chapter 453: Bad Little Girl

What do I do with this bad little girl?

Molly had cooled off after a good night’s sleep, so she wasn’t about to start back into whatever was going on between her and April.

“Camden’s home is complete, and they have taken up residence during your absence,” Molly said flatly.

April started to say something, and a look from me stopped her.

Molly flicked over her phone and started sending me updates to my phone, and thus I could use my implant to access them quickly.

With the kids from my foster home mini-city, the first two buildings for the private school were completed, passed inspection, and all the school stuff was installed to be ready to open in a few weeks. The other facilities were waiting on concrete to cure before they could pour the next floor. There were now sixteen homes under construction in the neighborhood beside the mansions. Fourteen were already under contract and constructed per the future owner’s specifications. The foster kids were working on them and frustrating the various foremen because the kids didn’t want to stop working until the sun started to set.

It did take the sting out of it for the contractors to find the kids waiting on them to come to work with breakfast and hot coffee. Molly said some construction workers’ unions tried to organize the contractors but told them to take a hike, which didn’t go well with the union rep.

I was looking over the paperwork from all the agencies the union rep called when Camden walked in and said, “Even as sad as their pitiful attempt was to unionize independent contractors, it was hilarious watching their misfires trying to cause trouble. The first group to arrive was the Occupational Health and Safety Administration. The children from your facility aren’t contractors, subcontractors, or tied to the companies building the homes, so OSHA didn’t have any ground to stand on, so to speak. Not that it mattered anyway. All the kids wore hard hats, gloves, reinforced overalls, long-sleeved work shirts, and steel-toed boots. They exceeded OSHA requirements for workplace safety.”

One of the babies wanted a drink, so she went to get the baby while April, Molly, and I finished breakfast.

“There were more alphabet agencies that showed up, but Child Services and the State Department of Labor were the best of the lot,” Camden said when she returned with a nursing baby. “The Department of Labor bitch-slapped the union rep, his union’s lawyers, and senior management. Minors can’t unionize. To unionize, they have to get paid and be company employees. Child Services was the best of the bunch. Being a part of your foster care system, what would they do, take the kids away? All the children were there voluntarily to apprentice. Everything was fully documented at each site, even if not required by law. Child labor laws don’t apply to volunteers. No one forced them to work, and there were no repercussions if they chose not to show up. That wasn’t the highlight, though. Seven of the nine people representing the union had multiple complaints against them for child abuse and neglect. Those seven found themselves needing to speak with some investigators about the allegations. All of their children are now in temporary protective custody. As a cherry on top, their children went to your foster-care facilities. It is your investigators questioning those seven people from that labor union. The union rep that caused the fuss, and one lawyer, doesn’t have any children.”

My phone beeped with information regarding those same children from the medical staff.

It is good that my staff detained all seven, or I would have gone to beat the living shit out of their parents. None of the children taken into protective custody was free from belt marks and bruises. They apologized for everything, even making the slightest sound as they shifted on the paper on an exam table.

Some kids underwent surgery overnight to fix bones their parents broke, but they never took them to get a cast to keep reports of possible abuse from being filed. Some had a limp from the bones in one leg from not healing as they should have. The doctors needed to re-break the bones, or something like that, to set and put in a cast correctly.

Not even the lawyers could keep from freely giving the abuse dates, times, and details. I did cool off some after the reports of no sexual abuse. The kids all needed a lot of therapy, but those not slowly waking up in a hospital bed got smothered by the other kids who wanted to make these new arrivals see that they were safe now. While not being fought over, someone was always waiting to hold and comfort any of these kids.

Once we finished breakfast, I marched April and Molly up to my office to get to the bottom of things.

Molly has been getting things ready to help Ellen get caught up, at least as much as possible, before school starts in a few weeks. My brother, sister, and April were going to start preschool simultaneously. When Molly explained that April was going to a preschool for children with a high IQ and not the one my siblings were going to, she started getting pissy. April didn’t like the idea of being made to go to school at all. Things devolved from there.

According to the staff, April had decided that she would show that she wasn’t mature enough for school yet and started doing everything possible to break the house rules. When that didn’t get her what she wanted, she started sniping at Molly about how ugly the colors were, or something looked stupid, and things of that nature. April soon discovered what got under Molly’s skin and pushed her buttons. After Molly had had enough, she began acting on April’s level to push April’s buttons.

“April, you are going to preschool. The one Molly picked for you is the one that Paula went to when she was your age. You are ready to learn things that our brother and sister won’t be for a few more years. We want what’s best for you, April, and right now, preschool is it,” I told her. “As for your behavior yesterday, Mom will deal with you next time. That is entirely unacceptable, and you know it.”

To Molly, I said, “If you are going to act like a three-year-old, then I’m going to spank your butt too.”

I see that is all that I need to say to Molly.

“Now, what was so ugly that it got April under your skin,” I asked.

Fuck, that is ugly and baby-shit brown, with corn and broccoli.

Molly gave me a nasty look at how I reacted.

April and I both learned that it was something the people who put one of the new homes under contract asked Molly to do for them. The people had given her sketches, and she was going through various renderings using the color combinations from the list. It didn’t matter which one Molly chose. April made some nasty comments.

To solve part of the problem, I packed April in the car. We went to the preschool to meet the people there. It was the same place Paula had gone years ago, and the woman recognized me.

“It figures. Of all the places you could put Paula’s daughter, you pick here. I don’t care if this should be impossible. I know that is her daughter. At least I learned with Paula. We wrote volumes about the things we had to do to keep Paula out of where she shouldn’t be,” she told me as she pointed to something behind me. “I guess I’m going to start writing again. It shouldn’t even be possible for her to get into there. Though two can play at that game, and I’ve had a lot of practice.”

She went to one of the three-year-old classrooms and called for someone to come out in the hallway.

A thirteen-year-old girl came out, and the woman said, “Collen here would have given Paula a run for her money if Paula was here at three years old again.”

“Colleen, I’ll teach you never to tell me you are bored, and nothing challenges you ever again. April is your project. You get to figure out how in the world she managed to get inside there,” the woman said.

Collen didn’t even bat an eye when she said, “Through where it goes up into the ceiling because the contractor didn’t know how to make a proper fitting top, so he just used wallboard sitting on top of the molding. The girl is stuck now, see?”

That is what you thought, and now you see you aren’t as bright as you thought.

“Who is stuck where?” April asked as she tugged on Collen’s skirt.

“Ready to go, April? I see you don’t like it here,” I said as I started toward the door.

April’s eyes teared up, and she begged to stay. After promising to behave, Collen took April off to the three-year-old classroom.

“Oh, David, that brings back memories. Collen was so sure that she didn’t notice that April may not have the height to get back out, but she was tall enough to get her arms and legs against the side to climb back out. See you about five to pick her up?” the woman asked.

“No, her mom or dad will come by on their way home from work,” I told her and watched her face trying to figure that out. “They have to pick up my other sister and brother, who go to the daycare down the road.”

I went to the ice cream place where the high school kids hung out. It wasn’t that I was looking to hang out as much as I wanted to have a perfect banana split.

They knew how I liked them, even if I don’t remember coming here all that much during the last half of my freshman year. On the way home, I saw one of Chrissy’s friends walking on the side of the road. Her t-shirt was all stretched out, and her shorts were only held closed by a piece of wire. The zipper was clearly busted, and she didn’t look like she had a bra but needed one.

I pulled up next to her, rolled the window down, and said, “Hey, little girl, want some candy? Come on. I’ve got plenty here in the car. You know you want it.”

That sad, lost look in her eyes turned to fire.

She turned, put her hands on the door, leaned down, and was about to lay into me when she recognized me.

“You look like you could use a ride, a change of clothes, and possibly an ear to listen to you bitch, or maybe a shoulder to cry on,” I told her. “Plus, it is damn hot out here, and you’re wearing a thin yellow t-shirt. The back is already soaked through, making it transparent.”

I had to park to help her get the door open and bucked in. As I pulled the seatbelt over her, I saw that she wasn’t wearing any panties either.

“Paris, right? I’m usually bad at names, so this is a surprise that I might have remembered it,” I joked.

I got a little smile when she said, “Yeah.”

“Your place, mine, or Chrissy’s,” I asked.

“Can we go back to the food court? I, uh, left my bag there,” Paris told me.

She then asked me to get it.

I saw why when I went around between the buildings into the alley. Two guys were back there. One was pounding a girl that had a blank expression on her face. The other was watching from where he blocked the alley. It took me a minute, but then I recognized the girl getting fucked was a girl I had seen Chrissy bring over to the old house a few times to swim.

The girl’s romper had the top buttons missing, her bra had the front-clasp hooks bent to where they couldn’t hook anymore, a leg hole with the seam ripped open, and only a tiny piece of fabric clinging to the elastic waistband underneath. When the guy fucking her moved slightly to one side, I saw he was fucking her ass versus her pussy.

“Can you give me the pink backpack next to you?” I asked the guy blocking the alley.

He spun around with a knife and said, “I told you that this is none of your business. Now you are going to pay.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I told him as I grabbed the hand with the knife. “Seriously, man, all I wanted was my friend’s backpack, and you came at me with a knife? I’m sure I know what is going on, but the girl getting buttfucked wasn’t screaming. She knows me but didn’t ask for any help. I was just going to take the bag and leave. Don’t you know it is stupid to pull a knife on someone when you have no clue how to use it or even who you are about to attack?”

At least I don’t have to call the police. The cops are coming up right behind me.

The guy fucking was off in his little world, so he didn’t notice what was going on.

With cops getting it all on their body cams, I made sure the guy wasn’t able to drop the knife. I used my other hand to push him into the alley and then against a wall. The police announcing themselves got through to the one buggering the girl. He pulled out, leaving the condom in the girl’s ass as he tucked away and started looking for a way to escape. There was nowhere to go.

“Look, man, she wanted it. So did all the others. They came here to get some dick. We didn’t force them. They just wanted it rough,” he said, trying to cover his ass, forgetting the knife in his hand, even if closed.

The cop said, “Son, you aren’t all that bright. You aren’t the first kids to come back here to get laid. The thing is, none of them used knives while doing it. This girl’s clothes don’t look much like she wanted what you did in any way. That turns a ride down to the station to wait for your parents into a misdemeanor. But, you see, you’ve got another problem. We ran the tags on your and your buddy’s cars. It turns out that you are both eighteen, and these girls aren’t. I would guess they are both sixteen, but that doesn’t matter because sodomy is still against the law. We got it all on bodycam footage and the three security cameras. That is enough to arrest you. We will let the district attorney deal with what other charges she wants to bring against you.”

Now the thug with the knife that tried to stab me, well, he was fucked. After being read his rights, he found out just how much.

“Pulling a knife on somebody and trying to stab them falls under attempted murder in my book,” the burly cop told him. “Doing that to a federal officer means the FBI will get involved.”

“Sergeant,” one of the others said, “According to dispatch, the FBI will have to fight with Treasury over this one. In addition to his role for the federal child protective services, it appears that he is also a consultant for the Treasury department. They said right now that we have this suspect for a parole violation. How he got out on parole after serving two months against three involuntary manslaughter convictions is beyond me. The captain suggests that we forgo the mound of paperwork involved as he thinks this punk would get out of the federal charges for him attacking David, who a lawyer can argue was not at any risk.”

The police officer asked me, “Do you want to pursue pressing charges against this suspect?”

“Not really. I only came for that pink backpack, but if either girl wants, she can try to squeeze into the backseat of my car, and I will get her somewhere safe, even if that isn’t her house. You’ve got enough with your body camera footage and the security cameras. You don’t need me or have this girl get involved. She already took it up the ass, you know? I doubt she wants people to find out about it,” I said.

I went to the girl, pulled out the rubber hanging out her asshole, and asked, “Val, I’m giving Paris a ride already if you want to see if you can squeeze in my tiny back seat. I don’t see your car or a bike.”

“Please?” was all she could get her brain to ask.

I got Val as decent as possible and picked up Paris’s backpack. Val got her bag from a pile by the dumpster. The cops hadn’t seen those yet. Being skinny anyway, Val had no problem getting into the back of the Lotus and begging me to get out of here before the cops changed their minds.

“Ok, girls, what you were doing back there is none of my business,” I explained. “Do either of you need to be checked by a doctor? My foster-care mini-city has a full medical staff. It would be entirely off the record, and your parents won’t find out unless you tell them. If you think you might have gotten pregnant, they have options they can offer you as well. You are Chrissy’s friend, but I would help you out even if you weren’t. I know some people that cause parts of the video footage to get corrupted and be unrecoverable or blur out parts of you that would identify you if you want. I prefer not to be there, if you know what I mean.”

“Can you please make that happen?” Val asked. “I don’t want that assfucker to get away with it, but I also don’t want kids at school finding out. My parents can just bite me, not like they could give a shit anyway.”

Paris asked if I could make it so that she wasn’t in any security camera footage. She then said she hurt down there even though she got loose before they could get in either hole.

Val didn’t want to go, but she said that as long as she didn’t have to pay and it wasn’t getting back to anyone, she was okay getting checked too.

As requested, I made the “call” to get the videos doctored as we drove.

When we got to the foster-care complex, I took them to medical and gave a rundown of the basics. The girls asked to share an exam room and have me there with them.

It didn’t take long to find out why Paris was hurting down there. One of the guys couldn’t get her to relax her butthole. He shoved something up there that pried her asshole open and poked around. He must have lubed it up or something because she said it didn’t hurt, but it went way up inside her. She decided that she wouldn’t let him butt fuck her after all and ran off.

Paris found that whatever he used packed her shit up inside her, which was the reason for the pain.

“To be safe, you will get an enema to clean everything out. I need to know before I do your pelvic exam, have you ever had intercourse? I noted no presence of a hymen,” the doctor asked both girls.

The girls had tried to have sex multiple times. It hurt them so much when getting their cherries popped that they clenched down in expectation of the pain again. Their first time didn’t last long anyway. The boy was already way past excited and popped his cork