My thanks to Mused, for all his help on this.
The rain drove hard into the windshield, so hard the wipers could barely keep up. Swish-swish, swish-swish, a mind numbing noise. Brett cranked up the Goo Goo Dolls' "Name" in an attempt to drown out the sound. A miserable mid-November evening, it was only seven, yet as black out as midnight. The street lights cast eerie shadows down around everything and in the distance, off to the West, lightning flashed; the first sign of an impending storm.
Brett turned on to his street where he'd lived for the last six months after moving out of his parents' place. His Mother had been sad to see her only son leave the nest. His Father, on the other hand, well, maybe less so. From sports, friends, schools, and jobs, they'd never been able to see eye to eye. No, his Father hadn't minded at all.
Then, there was Elizabeth. Four years his junior and his only sister, she'd turned 18 last July. In the back of his mind he could still see her sitting in the grass on the front lawn of their parents' house as he packed up the last of his things. He'd been so relieved at the prospect of moving out on his own, he'd almost missed the sad look she cast in his direction as he bade his farewell.
"Hey, Sprite, come say goodbye."
"Do I have to?" Elizabeth protested, secretly hoping that maybe if she refused to say goodbye, that somehow it would keep him there. She hated that he was leaving, though he was only moving three miles away. Just knowing he wouldn't be down the hall from her made her feel so empty inside.
She stood slowly and meandered over to him. Brett called her Sprite for a reason. At barely five feet, she stood a full foot plus three inches below him. While he had kept growing and growing through high school, Elizabeth had come to a screeching halt as soon as she'd hit puberty at the age of 13.
"Buck up, little camper." Brett chucked her under the chin. "I'll not be far away. C'mon Sprite, let me see you smile."
So Elizabeth smiled for him, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"If you need me, just call and I'll be here. I can't stay any longer, Elizabeth. Dad and I, you know we don't mix; we're like oil and water."
That was an understatement if there ever was one, Elizabeth thought, though she didn't say it. She didn't mix with either parent; she'd made it through the years by laying low and not drawing attention to herself. She hated to be noticed.
Lightning flashed again, and this time Brett heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance.
He pulled up the steep drive approach, taking care to not bottom out his 1970 Dodge Charger. Fire engine red with a black roof and a 440 Six Pack, he had rebuilt himself, lovingly restoring it in his parents' garage during the first two years of college. He disliked driving it in bad weather, but had yet to pull out his winter beater. He made a mental note to call Dave that weekend.
The headlights flashed across the the front of the house, lighting it up for the briefest moment. Brett thought he saw something on the porch; he wasn't sure what, then it was plunged back into darkness. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it looked like something huddled there on the steps. He got out of his car and ran through the cold November rain to investigate. Maybe a dog had sought refuge from the weather.
It wasn't a dog. It was his sister.
"Jesus Christ! Elizabeth!"
She turned her face up to his as the lightning flashed again. He sucked in his breath when he saw the light blue bruise on the left side of her face. Rivulets of rain mixed with tears, coursing a path down her cheeks.
"What're you doing here?" His words were drowned out by the approaching storm, though from the look in her eyes Brett doubted she would have heard him. She looked frozen from cold and fear. He didn't repeat himself, said instead, "Come on, let's get out of this mess." He fully expected her to follow him, yet when he unlocked the front door and stepped aside to let her enter, he found her still sitting on the steps.
Brett went over and hauled Elizabeth up into his arms. Through the door they went, brother and sister, dripping water everywhere. He took her straight down the hall to the bathroom.
The bright fluorescent light hurt their eyes. They blinked in unison a moment, then Brett gently set her down on the counter.
Her hands felt like ice. He figured she'd been out there a while, and her normally beautiful auburn hair hung around her in clumps. He pushed one clump away from the left side of her face and examined the bruise. Elizabeth shied away.
"I know you didn't get this by falling down, Sprite. What happened?"
Elizabeth only shook her head.
Brett noticed then her lips were blue. He needed to warm her up, fast.
"OK," he sighed. "Tell me later, then. Right now you need to get out of those clothes. Have at it," he instructed. "I'll be right back."
He went down the hall to his room and found a sweatshirt, sweatpants with a drawstring and a pair of socks, then returned to the bathroom to find his sister still sitting on the counter, still in her soaking wet clothes.
"I thought you were...never mind." He went to her and saw she was trembling, almost violently. Brett reached over, cranked on the faucets of the tub and began to draw her a warm bath. "Help me get you out of these." He pulled off her thin jacket she'd put on over her sweater, which was also sopping. He threw it all into a soggy heap on the floor. It landed with a wet squish.
He carefully lowered Elizabeth down, not letting go until he was certain she could stand and not crumple to the floor in a heap next to her clothes.
"Can you undo your jeans?" Brett asked her quietly.
Elizabeth nodded, still trembling. She tried to unfasten them, but her hands were too shaky, too cold, and she couldn't make them do what she wanted.
"I can't." Her voice was weak, her words mere squeaks.
"It's OK, Sprite. I'll do it."
The wet denim clung to her body and Brett had to forcibly yank them down. He lifted one foot, then the other, and tossed them in the awaiting wet heap.
Elizabeth was standing before him now nearly naked, yet Brett saw none of it. Her lovely breasts inside her bra were invisible to him, as was her pussy, clearly outlined, tucked away inside pretty pink cotton panties.
"Can you manage the rest of the way?" Brett asked her.
Elizabeth nodded.
"Get in the tub, then. I'll be back in a bit."
"OK."
Elizabeth did as she was told. She couldn't undo the hooks on her bra, so slowly she pulled it up over her head and threw it in the pile, along with her panties.
Her muscles and bones ached with cold. There was a dull throbbing in her head and on the left side of her face where the back of his hand had connected with her cheek.
Elizabeth lowered herself into the warm water. She laid down and it rose up as high as her neck. She noticed she could stretch almost all the way out. Though she'd stayed here with Brett several times in the last six months, she'd never taken a bath, only showers. Such a nice, deep tub...she shut her eyes, feeling some warmth return to her body.
