"What the hell do you want?"
"To see my daughter," grumbled a very drunk Amy Deluca. She watched Michael like a hawk, not sufficiently concealing the fact that she was scared shitless of him. Michael glanced quickly behind him and saw Maria, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"I don't think so."
"The hell you don't." Michael was unprepared for Mrs. Deluca's body slamming him into the door frame as she lunged for Maria.
"Michael!" Maria shrieked, but her trembling muscles wouldn't cooperate with her brain. Amy yanked Maria off of the couch. "You bitch!" Maria screamed "Get off of me!"
"You dare to leave me and come live with this trailer trash? I wanted so much more for you Maria! You've always been a little slut, and I guess that's all you'll be now! Ha! Like mother like daughter huh? He's trash Maria, he'll only end up hurting you. That's what men do." Mrs. Deluca managed to get in a few good scratches before Michael hauled her off of Maria and threw her across the room. Maria curled between the coffee table and the couch, trembling and crying, but Michael had another pressing issue to deal with. He stalked to where Amy was trying to recover from hitting the opposite wall.
"Don't move!!" He yelled at her, his voice making the walls vibrate. Amy slumped against the wall, breathing hard with Michael's foot on her stomach. "You fucking bitch. I told you not to come here, but you didn't listen to me. I should show you what you did to Maria...to your DAUGHTER! I should do exactly what you did to her, what do you think? Should I leave you bleeding on the sidewalk? Should I turn your whole body black and blue!? 'Cause I can do that, no problem! What's it gonna take for you to learn that you can't DO that to people? To your own flesh and blood? Maybe I should just tear your fucking throat out." Amy gasped beneath him.
"No...no. I won't...I won't...I swear, just...don't...don't hurt me." She tried not to look into Michael's eyes, black with rage as they were. But he wouldn't let her break eye contact. His eyes were blazing with rage, but also love, passion, and protection, for something that had been taken from him, and damaged. And somehow the alcohol cleared from Amy's brain for a split second and she saw this. She saw that Michael might actually kill her, not because he was a violent person, but because he had to defend and protect what he loved. And he loved Maria. She may have been half way plastered, but Amy saw this, and choked on her breath that was coming harder and harder as Michael's foot continued to press on her ribcage. His foot probably would have crushed all of her internal organs if a small whimper hadn't broken him out of his haze.
"Michael." He didn't turn around or break eye contact with the woman on the floor, but his face softened as he answered.
"Yeah baby."
"Please don't do anything."
"What do you want me to do Maria?"
"Just don't hurt her...too badly."
"K, I won't." He put his foot on the ground, allowing Amy the chance to gulp air before he hauled her up by the collar and dragged her across the floor. Maria met her mother's beaten gaze and resisted the urge to smile smugly.
"Good bye Amy," she said softly. Her mother closed her eyes and looked away as Michael hauled her to her feet and opened the door.
"If I ever see you on my property again, you'll regret it," he snarled before throwing her out onto the porch and slamming the door. Making sure it was securely locked, he whirled around to face Maria, who hadn't moved from her fetal position on the floor between the couch and the table. "She's gone, it's ok, she's gone," he assured her, stepping between the pieces of furniture to help her off the floor. "She can't hurt you anymore." She clung to him, still trembling slightly as he held her and guided her to sit on the couch, not leaving her side as she did. He ran his hands up and down her back, trying to soothe her as best he could. She held tightly to him, trying to curl herself into his chest. His arms surrounded her and she slowly relaxed, feeling safe again.
"Is this going to end Michael?" she asked softly. "I don't think I can take much more of it."
"It will Maria, I promise. We'll go to see Valenti tomorrow, it'll be ok." She nodded against him, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. "You ok?" She nodded and started to stand up. He followed her and started to catch her when she wobbled unsteadily.
"Let's go to bed Michael." She gasped as Michael put one arm around her shoulders and looped the other one behind her knees, sweeping her into his arms. "What are you doing?"
"Going to bed," he answered succinctly as he strode off towards the bedroom.
"To see my daughter," grumbled a very drunk Amy Deluca. She watched Michael like a hawk, not sufficiently concealing the fact that she was scared shitless of him. Michael glanced quickly behind him and saw Maria, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"I don't think so."
"The hell you don't." Michael was unprepared for Mrs. Deluca's body slamming him into the door frame as she lunged for Maria.
"Michael!" Maria shrieked, but her trembling muscles wouldn't cooperate with her brain. Amy yanked Maria off of the couch. "You bitch!" Maria screamed "Get off of me!"
"You dare to leave me and come live with this trailer trash? I wanted so much more for you Maria! You've always been a little slut, and I guess that's all you'll be now! Ha! Like mother like daughter huh? He's trash Maria, he'll only end up hurting you. That's what men do." Mrs. Deluca managed to get in a few good scratches before Michael hauled her off of Maria and threw her across the room. Maria curled between the coffee table and the couch, trembling and crying, but Michael had another pressing issue to deal with. He stalked to where Amy was trying to recover from hitting the opposite wall.
"Don't move!!" He yelled at her, his voice making the walls vibrate. Amy slumped against the wall, breathing hard with Michael's foot on her stomach. "You fucking bitch. I told you not to come here, but you didn't listen to me. I should show you what you did to Maria...to your DAUGHTER! I should do exactly what you did to her, what do you think? Should I leave you bleeding on the sidewalk? Should I turn your whole body black and blue!? 'Cause I can do that, no problem! What's it gonna take for you to learn that you can't DO that to people? To your own flesh and blood? Maybe I should just tear your fucking throat out." Amy gasped beneath him.
"No...no. I won't...I won't...I swear, just...don't...don't hurt me." She tried not to look into Michael's eyes, black with rage as they were. But he wouldn't let her break eye contact. His eyes were blazing with rage, but also love, passion, and protection, for something that had been taken from him, and damaged. And somehow the alcohol cleared from Amy's brain for a split second and she saw this. She saw that Michael might actually kill her, not because he was a violent person, but because he had to defend and protect what he loved. And he loved Maria. She may have been half way plastered, but Amy saw this, and choked on her breath that was coming harder and harder as Michael's foot continued to press on her ribcage. His foot probably would have crushed all of her internal organs if a small whimper hadn't broken him out of his haze.
"Michael." He didn't turn around or break eye contact with the woman on the floor, but his face softened as he answered.
"Yeah baby."
"Please don't do anything."
"What do you want me to do Maria?"
"Just don't hurt her...too badly."
"K, I won't." He put his foot on the ground, allowing Amy the chance to gulp air before he hauled her up by the collar and dragged her across the floor. Maria met her mother's beaten gaze and resisted the urge to smile smugly.
"Good bye Amy," she said softly. Her mother closed her eyes and looked away as Michael hauled her to her feet and opened the door.
"If I ever see you on my property again, you'll regret it," he snarled before throwing her out onto the porch and slamming the door. Making sure it was securely locked, he whirled around to face Maria, who hadn't moved from her fetal position on the floor between the couch and the table. "She's gone, it's ok, she's gone," he assured her, stepping between the pieces of furniture to help her off the floor. "She can't hurt you anymore." She clung to him, still trembling slightly as he held her and guided her to sit on the couch, not leaving her side as she did. He ran his hands up and down her back, trying to soothe her as best he could. She held tightly to him, trying to curl herself into his chest. His arms surrounded her and she slowly relaxed, feeling safe again.
"Is this going to end Michael?" she asked softly. "I don't think I can take much more of it."
"It will Maria, I promise. We'll go to see Valenti tomorrow, it'll be ok." She nodded against him, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. "You ok?" She nodded and started to stand up. He followed her and started to catch her when she wobbled unsteadily.
"Let's go to bed Michael." She gasped as Michael put one arm around her shoulders and looped the other one behind her knees, sweeping her into his arms. "What are you doing?"
"Going to bed," he answered succinctly as he strode off towards the bedroom.
