Chapter Eight:
No Daughter of Mine
Once again, Quinn made sure Rachel was sneaked out of the house. This time she was aware by the time she left her parents were home. Her father caught sight of her, but decided to turn a blind eye. He thought he would get her later.
The family sat round to dinner. As it was the day before Thanks Giving, they were having a simple meal. The only sound heard was the clattering of the cutlery. Russell had barely touched his food. For most of the meal so far, he had just been thinking and flexing his hand out in front of him, staring at Quinn. He wasn't sure what it was he was feeling, but he felt like something was bubbling up inside of him. It felt like heartburn mixed with indigestion, although it couldn't be. It ha too much spice added and his eyes were bulging. He could feel the veins throbbing. It was the same feeling he got as he came over the shock of finding out Quinn was pregnant.
Only this time the anger was a little different. And he couldn't control it.
Taking a break to eat his dinner, Russell swallowed his mouthful. "Let's say what we're all thankful for, shall we?" Russell suggested. Quinn halted her chewing for a moment. Her mother giggled a little at the suggestion. She pierced some pasta with her fork. "But we're not supposed to do that until tomorrow, darling." Judy smiled, patting his hand. Russell ignored her and continued staring at his daughter. Her green hazel eyes could feel them on her, and she stopped her eating to look up at him. "I want to start early. I feel there are a few things we should say now, before our families come tomorrow." Russell stated, his eye beginning to twitch at Quinn. She felt nervous, but continued to look at him, wanting to see how this would play out. "What kind of things darling?" Judy asked, wondering what could be so important to not be able to wait until the actual holiday to start announcing what they were thankful for.
His wife smiled brightly and put her knife and fork down. "Well," she exclaimed, dabbing her mouth with her serviette, "Russell, darling, as you suggested it why don't you go first." She placed her hand on top of his again and gave an encouraging squeeze. Her husband's mouth twitched into a smile and he glanced at his wife. "Thank you Judy." He smiled, before turning back to face Quinn.
She felt even more nervous now. Why was he smiling at her like that? Normally when he smiled, he eyes looked different. Right now, they looked darker for some reason, not some weird and supernatural Twilight kind of dark, but just...dark. Like they had actually changed to a darker shade of green. She gulped and put on her adoring daughter smile. "What are you thankful for daddy?" She asked sweetly, keeping her hands under the table. She rested them on her bare knee caps and squeezed the skin.
Clearing his throat, Russell began to speak. Like Caesar, he raised his fist as if to depict to his loyal subjects that he was about to make an important speech. "I, my family, am thankful for many things." He slammed his fist down on the table. With it, Quinn jumped in her seat and squealed a little. Cursing herself as she did so, because she could see that not only had his eyes changed colour, but his face was beginning to change. Becoming redder. Red with anger. Involuntary, her knees began to shake and her hands pressed down on them to keep them still. "I'm thankful that I have a semi perfect family." He told them, widening his eyes slightly.
Confused at his use of the adjective 'semi' she cleared her own throat. "What do you mean by 'semi' darling? Are we not perfect enough for you?" At any other time, Quinn would have felt sick by her words and her high pitch doting wife tone. But now, she didn't have the room to make herself feel anything else other than scared. And nervous. A mixture of nerves and scared. "No Judy," Russell sighed but still keeping his voice strong, "This family is not perfect. Three quarters of it is, but there is one remaining quarter that is most certainly not perfect." Slowly he raised his finger and pointed it at Quinn. "You, Lucy, are not perfect." He spat her name and perfect, making her gulp and sink into her seat. "Russell?" Judy asked, trying to understand.
Suddenly, however, he was up on his feet and screaming at Quinn. "How could you do this to us?" He bellowed, leaning over the table and shouting down on his daughter, banging his fist so hard it made the glasses of water shake. "How could you ruin us again, it wasn't enough that you got yourself pregnant but now you're just being sinful?" He screamed, but before Quinn had time to answer, to defend herself, or to even sit up, he had made his way around the table and had grabbed her by her shoulders, pulling her up out of her seat.
Slapping her as hard as he could across the face, Judy watched in horror as her husband continue to hit their crying daughter. "Russell what the hell are you doing?" She screamed, now out of her seat also, and trying to pull Quinn away from his grasp. "Stay out of this Judy!" He yelled, pulling Quinn and continuing to slap her. Her cheek was burning and her tears stung it like lemon juice in an open wound. "Mom make him stop!" Quinn begged through her tears.
"You're no daughter of mine; you hear me Lucy! If you do this then you will no longer be my daughter!" Her father screamed, gripping onto her forearm and holding her into place as he kicked her shins. She almost fell at the pounding, but he was holding her up. Judy was holding her face in her hands and crying more. "Do what? Do what Russell?" She asked, trying to get him off their daughter. He shook the girl away from her mother and pushed her against the wall, sending more blows to her bare shins to cause bruising and light grazes. "Please daddy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out, stuttered through her falling tears. "Yes you will be!" He yelled in her face as he now punched her in the face.
From her place at the table, gripping into the chair, Judy screamed at the scene playing out before her. "Russell please stop!" She couldn't believe what he was doing; he had never hit any of his daughters. Only ever once spanking them when they were particularly bad at a party they were holding when they were children, but not since they were eleven years old had he laid a finger on them. A finger that wasn't loving.
"Please daddy!" Quinn cried, her face becoming numb from the slaps, her legs raw from the kicks and her face sore from the punches. She could taste blood and knew that her lip and nose were bleeding. She knew exactly what this was about. He must have not been happy about Rachel being in the house. She knew he wouldn't just let it slide. When she saw him out of the corner of her eye, she knew he wouldn't be happy. She should have known he would have been plotting it.
"You promise you will end it?" He snarled, stopping his hand slapping her face, but digging his nails further into her soft skin. She was sure that it was bleeding and bruising too. "End what?" Judy asked, still horrified from what she had witness. Both Russell and Quinn ignored her question.
"Yes daddy!" Quinn told him, trying to sniffle away her tears; the pain they caused as they touched her skin was excruciating. "Promise!" He growled, bringing his face right up to hers. She nodded her head frantically. "I promise!" She squeaked, wishing and praying he would stop.
Russell held her gaze for a moment, feeling the veins in his forehead stop throbbing. Quinn shook in his grasp and gazed up at him with pure fear and pleading in her eyes. Watching as the crimson blood trickled from her nose and lip. Bruises were forming around her eye and her cheekbone. The left side of her cheek, the same colour as her old Cheerio uniform. It shone from the tears and the pain he had caused. His fists let go of her thin wrists. Sighing and running his large hand through his hair, making Quinn flinch as she though he was going to hit her again, he said; "I'm glad this is settled." He cleared his throat and sat back down in his seat and picked up his cutlery.
Judy stared open mouthed at her husband in disbelief at what she had just witnessed. Quinn was shivering as she made her way to the door. "I'm going to clean my face." She whispered, swallowing the tears she had yet to cry. From his seat, without looking up, Russell told her; "Good. I think you should put on some more make up than usual, we can't have your relatives seeing your bruises." He put another fork full of pasta in his mouth and turned to a still gob-smacked Judy. "This is very good Judy, we should have this more often." Judy nodded her head at him and looked towards the door. Quinn had already slipped out to go and take care of herself. Sobbing silently the whole way up the stairs. Her mother began to stand back up but Russell put his hand on top of hers. "Leave her Judy," he told her sternly. His wife looked at him with shocked confusion. His blue eyes pierced into hers. "She's a big girl now, she doesn't need you to clean her face for her." He shot her a quick smile and then went back to his food, keeping his hand on hers for the remainder of the meal.
As he slept that night, Russell thought back to what he had heard; his daughter's words and their soft moans. It made him sick. He understood French but didn't understand why she was saying it, and to Rachel Berry of all people. He knew that his little talk with the brunette girl obviously hadn't been understood by her. It would clearly take a lot more than a single punch and a few words to get her to stop harassing his daughter.
A part of him felt terrible about hurting his daughter, but as he carried it, he found himself being unable to stop. It was for her own good. She had already sinned so much. He wouldn't allow her to sin again. Not just for the sake of the family name, but for her sake too. He would not allow her to be sucked in by the Berry's homosexual ways.
And he would stop at nothing to make sure his daughter stayed on the correct path of life.
