I watch as the cup made out of glass, rocks back and forth as Roans fists slam down onto the old wooden table with uneven legs. I don't move a muscle at the booming sound and the clatter of their plates.
I watch as the glass tips spilling the milk all over the table. The glass that must've been years old shattered on impact making the same exact sound as when Mama throws her beer bottles at my head.
I don't move a muscle. I don't let my gaze wander away from the table coated in white milk. I stare at the spilled milk that has glass shards floating on top.
I don't let my eyes move from the spilled milk as my body is hoisted up from my seat, being tugged by my long hair. I don't feel the pain as Roans strong hands grip my hair feeling each individual strand ripping out.
I don't flinch as he drops he down on the ground beside the table. Kicking me in the side he makes sure I am facing up at the ceiling.
Snails. I learned about them today at school in Mrs. Heberts science class. They are slow moving insects that have a shell to protect them for when a little kid tries to pick them up. They curl into their protective shell until the coast is clear and the kids have found some other insect to torture.
I feel like a snail. I am in my own protective shell. My mind goes blank. No fear, no pain. I lay on the disgusting sticky linoleum floor right next to the table.
What happens when the kid accidentally drops the snail? The hard ground and the impact of the drop probably breaks the shell the snail once found safety in.
The dripping of the spilled milk lands on my cheek in fast drops. I watch as the milk drips and drips and drips. But then the drips turn into a full waterfall as Roan swipes all of the milk over the table and onto my frozen figure.
The milk blinds my vision and that's when the glass shards make contact with my face.
The glass breaks my skin and sharp stings is all I can feel on my face as the waterfall stopped.
Kind of like the snail my safety shell cracked.
Hot tears pool in my eyes as repeated kicks to different sides of my body are being delivered to me. Roan kicks my stomach and Mama kicks my back. They switch turns every kick making my body jolt forward only to be kicked back.
As quickly as the kicks came they stopped. My head is dizzy and spinning as I feel my body being dragged across the small house that is my place of residence.
"You stupid clumsy kid you just can't do anything right can you?" Roan taunts me as he holds my chin open spitting into my mouth.
I gag as that godawful taste of his bad breath mixed with his booze sits in my mouth. He pinches my nose and covers my mouth giving me no way to breathe.
"Swallow it slut." He growls. The task is nearly impossible but I manage. This isn't the first time he's done this.
"Maggie?"
Roan continues to drag me to the front door after dropping me back onto the ground.
"MAGGIE?!"
Receiving one more kick directly to my stomach, I get launched out of the front door and into the knee high, snow covered lawn, outside my shabby house.
The feeling of my skin burning against the very cold snow makes my body launch forward.
"Hey Maggie you're alright, look baby. You're here with me." I hear the only voice on this earth that makes me feel safe.
My eyes clear up from the blurring of the anxiety attack I am recovering from.
"Dad." I start to cry again. My lip wobbles as my eyes land on the culprit of my flashback.
The spilled chocolate milk.
I had spilled the chocolate milk.
"Hey it's okay. It's just a spill I'll clean it up fast. Okay?" He doesn't wait for an answer noticing how my eyes never leave the spilled milk. Neither of us acknowledge how I called him Dad. I see him drying the spill up with a paper towel until the countertops are the pristine white colour they once were before my clumsy ass spilled the drink.
"I am sorry." My lip quivers looking at his worried face as he holds my face in his hands. Rubbing my cheek up and down in a very comforting way he shakes his head.
"No, no apologies. It was an accident, they happen. You're okay. I am not mad and you're safe."
I am safe. I'm with Nards. When I am with him I will always be safe. With him I will always feel safe.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I cry into his shoulder.
I am safe.
-
It's Saturday today. I spent all morning and majority of my afternoon helping Maggie get caught up in her math class.
Not to brag but I am practically a math god. Numbers are easy and solving problems are even easier. I could tell that Maggie was starting to understand so I vowed to myself that if she ever needed help with her math homework I would make myself available for her.
The detentions were expected. I knew they were coming. I am not one of those parents that will say my daughter is an angel. I wouldn't lie like that.
She is a little devil and her father is fucking Satan himself. It fits perfectly.
The detentions were all justifiable and she shouldn't have many issues with Ms. Ambitch (got the nickname off of my Mags) halfway across the world. She's in a basement somewhere.
I deported her.
No one bullies my child and no one humiliates my child.
She's too precious.
A new teacher is supposed to start on Monday so hopefully Maggie will do well with this guy.
After spending all day going over the basics of mathematics I ordered cookies from a local bakery to be delivered to the penthouse.
When Maggie was a baby we would always after a long day have cookies and milk together while we watched In the Night Garden.
So, I wanted to carry out that tradition with her by celebrating her progress in her math today by cookies and milk.
She was telling me this crazy story about an adventure her and this boy Luca went on when they were nine. She was so into it she accidentally spilled her glass of milk.
That's when her face drained of colour and her whole body froze up staring at the spill. It took me a solid twenty seconds to realize what was happening.
She was having a flashback.
I tried to bring her back to reality and once I finally did that's when she broke down.
She called me Dad. She probably just said it because her mind was elsewhere. But still, having her call me that feels like the biggest achievement in the whole world.
I now hold her sleeping body in my arms. We are laying down on the couch and I kept whispering sweet nothings into her ear until eventually she would fall asleep.
I am not an idiot. I know that she was abused by her mother and by that stupid fucker Roan. Trust me I know that whatever they did to her must've been terrible. I will make sure he pays for what he did to her.
Even if it's the last thing I do.
My efforts of finding him are going no where. Every lead, every single clue only leads to a dead end. He's probably in the Ukraine hiding in a bunker, because if he was following her around every corner he must've seen or got word that I, the Don of the Italian-American Mafia, has her under my safety and my protection.
He's hiding like the coward he is.
Don't worry, I will find him. I'll kill him.
Now though I have to focus on my Maggie. Having her in my arms is the only time I know she is one hundred percent safe.
Even when she's in the other room she is still in danger. Maybe not from outside threats but definitely from herself. I've seen her walk into too many walls and trip over her feet way to many times.
I wouldn't have her any other way.
I've just been rubbing her back as she peacefully sleeps on me. I hear her soft sighs every few minutes and everything feels so peaceful.
That is until she flinches in her sleep. That's when the whimpers start and I can tell she's having a nightmare. "Shh, you're okay Mags." I hold her head that keeps jerking around to my chest so she won't hurt her neck.
"N-no... no." She whines in her sleep and that's when I can't stand it anymore.
"Maggie, baby, wake up." I shake her awake slightly. I start to panic seeing her pleads increase. Tears are running down her cheek and my heart aches seeing her scared. "You're okay wake up."
She jerks awake and I let my hold on her go as she sits back against the couch. I sit up so I can face her. Her breathing is laboured and her hands shake as she tries to cover her face.
Taking her hands off her face I clasp them in mine. She looks at me in desperation. "You're okay, let's just breathe okay? You're safe. Let's breathe in and out." I exaggerate a deep breath so she can follow. She does still staring at me in panic. "Good, you are okay, keep breathing just like that."
We do the breathing for five minutes before she fully relaxes. Her eyes look heavy but she fights to keep them awake probably scared to have a nightmare again.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ears making her look up at me. "Let's go out for a walk. Central Park is fifteen minutes away." Wordlessly she gets up holding on tight to my hand.
We leave the apartment and she keeps her her head down as we walk down the hall. My guards look down at her with a sad expression. She insisted to have them over for dinner once. She always stops to talk to them after school or anytime we leave the apartment. This time she just holds my hand sticking to my side with her head down looking at her very dirty sneakers.
A month ago I would have screamed if those filthy shoes were left in my home. Now I feel that the penthouse isn't home without Maggie's shit everywhere.
The hair ties on the counters and floors, the trail of glass cups, her socks, shoes, and sweaters all cluttering up the place. Yet, without the hair ties on the floor and without the sweaters thrown over every surface I don't believe it would feel like home.
"Starbucks?" She questions me speaking up for the first time since she awoke from her nightmare. I was already on my way to the nearest Starbucks because it isn't a day out with her unless a six dollar drink is bought.
Ordering myself a black coffee and my Maggie a very berry refresher I see her eyes light up. Every time she is amazed that I remember what drink she likes and every time I tell her that not everyone has a memory of a goldfish.
It's just jokes of course. It's me getting back at her for all the old man jokes.
I groaned sitting down the other day and she was on me for an hour making fun of my deteriorating joints.
I hand her the drink and drive to Central Park. I park in between the lines so no asshole will damage my car.
Yes I am a jackass.
But this car is a limited addition. I designed it myself, there is no way this car will be damaged. I will protect it at all costs.
It's my second baby.
When I explained this to Maggie earlier on in the week she made a comment along the lines of 'no wonder why you don't have a girlfriend'.
My daughter loves to make fun of me and I love to make fun of her. She's not just my twin (we look too similar it's scary) but she's also my best friend. I haven't let many people in my life. So having someone who is constantly around and who genuinely enjoys spending time with you is the best feeling in the world.
-
I truly apologize for Maggie's POV in this chapter. It is literally all over the place. I tried to edit it back and yet for some reason it still seems like shit to me.
Another update will be coming in a few days. I started my first ever semester in high-school (I am a grade ten student) today and I have pretty heavy courses until June.
Anyways, like always lots of love and stay safe out there! 💕