ruthless

chapter 31: childhood

pulling the skirt up i look at myself in the mirror i always forget how hot i look in this skirt. tieing a sage green bikini to match the bottoms under my skirt and I put a tank top over it. waking out of my closet i grab my phone at 8:37. Let's see what dad wants.

I make my way downstairs, turning right and going down the hall of his office. I stand in front of the white doors and knock before entering.

My father sits at his cleaned off desk with just one thick grey folder in front of him. "nicoletta please sit" ok creepy sitting on the couch in front of him he sighs. I hear the door lock and I snap my head around.

two large body guards stand in front of the door blocking the entrance oh fuck. What could dad need me in here for? Then it hits me he's going to force me to talk about mom. hell no

"I'm not doing it" I fold my arms "I refuse to talk about mom so like I said during our argument,it's gonna be like talking to a wall" I send him a bitchy smile.

He opens the folder and pulls out a sheet of paper and his eyes scan the sheet. "We think it might be some kids playing a trick on us but that's a whole lot of fake blood" my eyebrows furrow.

"a statement made by a few adults who came across the construction site." I sigh "I don't care about my back, I could tell you about that" my father nods.

"We were fighting on a beam and she threw me off. There was a piece of metal sticking out of the wall and it sliced my back open. it's the one time she helped me and called 911 saying i called her because i was playing around" i roll my eyes. "i'm fine now but they thought i was gonna paralyzed"

my father nods before going through the sheets of paper once more. putting his glasses on he reads what i assume is fine print on the bottom of the page.

"a warehouse is upstate new york was rented annually under your mothers credit card." i swallow hard oh fuck no remaining silent my father looks up at me. "what happened there" he takes his glasses off.

I stare at my father with an emotionless expression "is that where she tortured you?" flashes of the cold damp warehouse experiences run through my mind and my throat tightens.

just don't react niki i force the tightness out of my throat and take a deep breath. "There is a camera on the outside of the door leading into the warehouse. I haven't looked or listened to the audio yet. shall we listen together" i roll my eyes at him.

"I know what the audio will sound like,I was there. as strong as you think you are it's gonna be hard for you" i look at my cuticles i have to get my nails done

with that he grabs a remote and aims it toward the tv. looking over he fast forwards until my mother and 13 year old me are in sight. He pauses the footage.

"How old were you here?" I look at my father for a moment. "thirteen" he plays the video.

my mother grabs me by my hair and yells.

"i've had enough of this nicoletta '' opening the large sliding warehouse door she shoves me inside before walking in and closing the door.

I remember this day. the store owner of the deli around the corner from my school thought I stole. I didn't and it was only after 2 hours of torturing did my mother realize I was telling the truth.

my father plays the video once more but now it will only be audio considerably there is no cameras inside.

Some clashing occurs and then we hear the metal buckles to the leather straps on the chair. i look away from the tv yeah like that's gonna do anything niki