Chapter Fifteen

Lorna instantly looked up from where she was sitting; her eyes landed on the culprit of that voice, her uncle George Mendez. She felt her body slightly shutter at the sight of him. The last time she remembered seeing him was at that family picnic five years ago. He definitely still appeared the same albeit his brown hair greying and thinning. The thick mustache that covered his lips made him look like the stereotypical child molester, she thought.

He was sat in her father's recliner with a beer bottle in his hands. He sipped it fervently while watching the young brunette with a dim lust lurking in his eyes. "Why did it take so long for you to get home? Your daddy told me school ends at two and now it is," the dark-haired man pointed out, glancing briefly at his watch, "three o'clock."

"I had to walk home, it took a while." There was an uncomfortable aura in the room; Lorna shifted in her seat, drinking the coffee she held slowly. She refused to look at her uncle. And longed for her mother to appear. For her to be there to force him to leave and never come back—to kick some sense back into Joe Morello.

"Oh really? Nice try, little princess—he also told me it only takes fifteen minutes for ya to get home. Where the fuck were you?"

The rising anger in his tone didn't help to lessen the tense energy that filled the house so suddenly. It certainly hadn't encouraged Lorna to want to talk to him. But in fear of what could possibly happen had she not responded, she chose to come up with some form of an answer. "I just had to check in with my teacher before I left, I wasn't late on purpose."

George Mendez shook his head disbelievingly. He brought the glass bottle towards his lips and took a rather large swig of it. His dark irises peered over the young brunette's body in a longing desire. It didn't matter to him that she was only fifteen—he wanted what he wanted and not even the law could stop him from getting it. "Mm," he mumbled, staring fiercely over her. "Go on and fetch me a sandwich, will ya?"

Lorna wanted to say no and go on up to her room to get away from him but decided against that as she had no idea what consequences she would have faced had she refused his demand. She still had her coffee in her hands, eyes looked down inside of the mug sadly. So much for enjoying any time to herself, she thought. "Can I just finish my coffee first?" She risked asking the question.

"Why are ya still in here? Go make me a sandwich child!"

"I'll take that as a no," she mumbled in response.

She walked back into the kitchen, her mug in hand, and reached for a plate from one of the cabinets. Realizing she had no idea what kind of sandwich her uncle wanted, she let out an exasperated sigh. There was no way she was going back in there to ask. Lorna took out a loaf of bread along with the cheese and lunchmeat, placing all of it onto the countertop. Before she moved forward with assembling it, she picked up her cup of coffee and took a few long sips of it.

Right as she was finally ready to start preparing the sandwich, the sound of her phone going off interrupted her. She reached her hand for it from the pocket of her jeans and checked the caller ID. Seeing her sister's name, Lorna decided to go ahead and answer it. "Hello?"

"Lorn, have ya been graced with Uncle George's presence yet?" The older brunette's voice questioned through the other end of the phone.

If she wasn't so fearful of the man, Lorna would have easily laughed at her sister's words. However, she refrained and quickly put together his sandwich while using her shoulder to hold the phone up to her ear. "Unfortunately," she muttered, rolling her eyes to go along with it. "I'm making him a sandwich, he requested."

Franny shook her head. He couldn't have been there long and was already starting to work her nerves. "Hmm, requested? Right. I'm sure he didn't really give ya a choice in the matter, huh?"

"No, not really," Lorna answered, sighing. Now that the sandwich was completed, she hurriedly put the ingredients back in the fridge. "Lemme go give him this before he gets mad. I'll call ya back, Fran." After clicking off the call, Lorna set the phone back in her pocket and grabbed the plate carefully in both of her hands.

She returned into the living room with the plated sandwich, handing it over to her uncle—who snatched it rather harshly from her. The gesture almost caused her to jump but she maintained her composure. Before she could turn to leave, she felt one of his cold hands grab onto her shoulder. She slightly shuttered at his touch.

"So where's your mom?" The inquiry easily spilled from Mendez's mouth. He already began chowing down on the sandwich she prepared him. A cold gleam in his eyes as he asked her that.

Lorna felt a chill run down her spine. She shifted uneasily where she stood, feeling the pressure in her chest rising with every second that passed. Had he really not known or was he just being spiteful? She couldn't decipher which it was; all she could do was swallow thickly, trying to keep her emotions from coming out. Words could not form—she was having a hard enough time just trying to remember to breathe.

Shaking his head, Mendez threw up his arms in irritation. "Where is your mom, little diva?" He repeated his question louder, almost yelling it.

"My-my mom?" The only response she could manage without breaking down.

"Yeah, your mom—the hell ya deaf now? Jesus Christ."

She felt suffocated every time the word mom came from her uncle's mouth. It was as though each time he said that word she was being held down underwater without being allowed up for air. He couldn't possibly not know that her mother had passed almost six months ago, she pondered. Her mouth opened and shut several times with no words escaping out. She still stood there, trying to catch her breath. Each minute that passed that she didn't answer, the more anger she noticed building in Mendez's body language.

"She's not here—mom is away on business," the obvious lie easily came out. She told it to so many people that at times she almost believed it herself. She desperately yearned for it to be true—for her mother to only be temporarily away.

The greying middle-aged man took the last bite of his sandwich and shook his head in her direction. A smirk etched on his face as he did so. He let his hands grab rather roughly on her cheeks, forcefully turning her head so that she was facing him. "Really? Your daddy mentioned she was sick with cancer—what, she miraculously got better?"

Lorna gritted her teeth anxiously; the way he kept calling her father daddy in such a sardonic tone made her shutter. And cancer—the word alone was enough to flood her mind with haunting memories. However, she bit down on her tongue to distract herself from the bubbling emotions. She didn't have the energy to deal with them. "Why are ya even asking about her? It's not like you like her, anyway. Leave my mom alone."

With a chortle, Mendez pushed her away and placed his empty plate on the end table that separated the two sofas. He pointed his finger profusely at the plate, "Take this and go wash it. And wash yer filthy mouth out while yer at it. The hell gives ya the right to talk to an adult like that?"

Thankful for the opportunity to vanish, Lorna gladly took the plate and ran back to the kitchen. She placed it in the sink and turned the hot water on. Her hands reached for the soap that she used to pour over it; she put her hands under the running water and let them stay for several minutes as she finally felt a tear come running down her cheek. She hadn't even realized there was a tear to be shed until then. A lump formed in the back of her throat. She quickly finished washing the dish before retreating up to her room to escape her uncle.


The bright glow of the moon shined through the window into her room. Lorna lay on her stomach on her bed while looking at her phone that she held out in front of her eyes. She spent a few moments pondering on whether or not to call Nicky. After seeing her in the office, she felt something had been bothering her and she wanted to figure out what it was. Plus, that would help keep her distracted from her own issues which she desperately craved right at that second.

Lorna listened through the rings, closing her eyes as she thought about how on earth she was going to make it through to the end of the week with her uncle there. She wasn't entirely positive she could survive the whole week. Fortunately her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the other line being picked up. A sigh of relief escaped her—she was grateful for the interjection.

"Mmph, hello?"

The tone in her voice quickly had Lorna realizing how late it must have been as it obviously seemed her call awoken Nicky from a slumber. She mentally kicked herself for not checking the time before she called. "Hi, hon, it's me Lorna," she muttered softly into the receiver. Knowing she woke the other, she felt slightly nervous now.

A light chuckle escaped her. Nicky briefly yawned and held the phone closer to her ear. "I know who ya are, kid, the voice gives it away," she laughed warmly, she could feel her cheeks flush red. Good thing the two weren't in the same room, she thought.

"Oh," the brunette replied, yet, laughed as well to make sure it was known that such comment hadn't offended her. She traced her finger around the pattern on the comforter of her bed. The sound of rain falling loudly on the roof caught her attention momentarily; it was a sound that always brought a comfort over her. "Did I wake you?"

"Nah I was up, just dozed a little before my phone rang. S'okay, kid." Nicky would never be caught dead admitting that she was sound asleep before midnight. That certainly would take away from her persona and she wasn't going to allow that. "D'ya need somethin'?"

It wasn't usual for Nicky to be so frank, Lorna noted, but she did her best to not take it personal. Obviously if she had been dozing off, she was tired and probably not in the mood to talk on the phone. The brunette nodded her head to herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't check the time before I called and I probably shoulda. Didn't meana call so late, Nicky, just wanted to check on ya. Are you feeling better?"

Nicky felt her heart bursting at the caring nature of her friend. She never felt this cared for by someone aside from Nurse Reznikov. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside—a sensation she surely wasn't used to and didn't know what to think of it right then. Her eyes kept drooping shut. "I'm okay, kid, thanks. You're so sweet for calling and checking," she murmured softly, wishing she could hug the brunette right there and then.

"Of course, hon. Is everything okay with you and your dad? Ya said he was kinda upset earlier about the whole situation last night," the words frantically came out. Lorna worried there might be a chance her friend's father would take his anger out on her in a physical manner and she just couldn't fathom the thought of that. She didn't want anyone to go through that kind of suffering, especially Nicky.

"Everything is fine between me and him. Don't worry about that, yeah?" As kind and sweet as it was for Lorna to worry for her and her parents, it also caused suspicion to form. She always seemed so persistent when it came to her parents, but even more so her father. And it made Nicky wonder why.

Lorna swallowed hard. She couldn't push the fears away. If Nicky was covering up for her dad's behavior, she needed to get to the bottom of it because she refused to allow anyone to go through the same abuse she had. "Are ya positive, Nicky? Your dad isn't—"

"Stop, enough," the redhead cried out, frustrated that she wouldn't let up on the subject. She bit her tongue after, regretting that she let herself react in such a way. She sighed and inhaled sharply. "Sorry, kid, I'm not tryna be mean. I just, I don't want to talk anymore about my dad. Why don't you tell me how you are instead, yeah? Everything okay tonight?"

Stop, enough! Enough! The words echoed piercingly in her mind; she could hear Nicky talking in the background but it was muffled as if she was underwater. Of course, Lorna knew she brought that response on herself—she shouldn't have kept pestering her on the matter, but she just couldn't stop herself from worrying. She breathed in. Stop. And breathed out. Enough! She opened her mouth (stop) and closed it again (enough!).

The next time she opened her mouth to speak she was interrupted by her bedroom door swinging open and a very angry uncle marching inside. She didn't have time to comprehend anything as he came over and yanked the phone out of her hands, throwing it across the room. Nicky's voice could be heard through the receiver yelling out her name but she had no way of going to get it. Mendez had her pinned down against the mattress of her bed.

His dark brown eyes peered menacingly down into her own. He had a sneer on his face as he finally had her exactly where he wanted. He used his hands to claw into her cheeks. There was just something so lustful about the petite brunette before him. Maybe it was her youth but whatever it was, Mendez guaranteed he'd have his way with her. He always received what he wanted and this was no different.

Lorna shut her eyes, the only thing she felt she had control over in that moment. Her body instinctively tensed from even only the breathing her uncle was doing while hovered over her. And that, right here, was what made him even worse than her father—at least he never abused in her in a sexual manner, she told herself. No wonder Stansie Morello did everything she could to keep she and her sister away from Uncle George.

She could faintly hear Nicky calling out for her on the phone that had been thrown to the floor across her room. Unfortunately, she had no way of retrieving it and hated that her friend would probably believe that she was ignoring her.

The sensation of rough fingers touching her lips quickly brought her back into reality. Right now what mattered most was finding a way to escape from beneath her uncle's uncomfortable touch. She was tempted to bite the finger that covered her lip in an effort to scare him off but thought that might be too unsanitary and refrained. Instead, she settled for taking her hands and placing them on either side of his shoulders. She pushed at them with as much force as she could to get him off of her but realized she was much too weak in comparison.

Mendez shook his head at her attempts to push him away. In fact, her actions sealed her fate he deemed. She wasn't the one in charge here; he would show her. He shoved her hands from his shoulders and turned it around so that his hands were on her shoulders, holding her down against the mattress. His face was only inches from the young teen's, his breath hot on her face. "You will regret pushing me, little princess."

Having his breath on her face, Lorna felt sick. Her heart started pounding faster in her chest. She wished she was old enough to live on her own—to not have to be in this house anymore and be forced to stay under her uncle's care while her father was away as if she was some child. Though, she knew if she were even younger that would only make this whole situation even worse. She swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes once more. As if shutting them would magically make all of this dissipate away.

"Stop calling me little princess," was the only thing that Lorna could get to come out of her mouth. Every time he referred to her as such, it made her insides twist and turn.

"You think you're in control here? Not a chance, little princess," Mendez roared back.


After retrieving her books from her locker that next morning, Lorna allowed her feet to lead her to one of the girls' restrooms. The events of last night still floated about in her mind. She felt incredibly sick and nauseous. Sick and nauseous not only at what happened but with herself as well. She should have tried harder to stop it from even transpiring in the first place. The nausea grew worse as she entered inside the bathroom; she hurriedly ran into one of the stalls and locked it shut. She reached into her purse for the toothbrush that she deliberately packed in it before leaving the house.

Her hands cupped around the toothbrush tightly. She looked down at it cautiously, wondering if she should even go through with what she had planned. It only took her a few moments of pondering before she decided to continue with her original plan. She crouched over the toilet and cautiously brought the toothbrush up towards her mouth—she had no clue what she was doing, never had she imagined herself to do something like this. In a way, it felt dirty but in another, it just seemed so natural. She sucked in a breath and opened her mouth to insert the toothbrush into. She pushed it farther back until it finally hit her gag reflex and she felt everything that was in her—mostly only coffee and water—came projecting out and landing in the toilet in front of her.