Chapter Thirty-One
Immediately, the older teen threw her arms tightly around Lorna to shield her from any potential bullets that came flying in through any of the windows that surrounded them. Her eyes peeped out of the passenger side to see where the drunken man was but all she saw was a rather large puff of smoke clouding around the stoop of the front porch. She felt her arms shake from the intense trembling of her girlfriend's body and pulled her closer, allowing her head to be buried in the crook of her neck.
"It's okay, baby," her voice softly whispered while she combed her fingers soothingly through the dark waves of her hair. With the utmost tenderness, Nicky carefully leaned forward so that their foreheads rested against one another. She cradled a hand around one of Lorna's cheeks, wiping softly at the tears that soaked it and pressed a small kiss to the tip of her nose. "I've got you, my sweet Lorna. You're safe with me."
Dazed and a tad bit disoriented from the gunshot booming through her ears, Lorna timidly returned the older girl's embrace and gave a delicate peck to her cheek before—reluctantly—forcing herself out of her arms and pushing open the door on the right of her. She glanced out in front of her at the gathered cloud of smoke, using her hands to cup around her eyes as if that would somehow aide in her being able to see whatever had been mixed in with it. However, before she could set even a foot outside of the car, she felt her girlfriend's arm gently yank on her to halt her from moving any further.
The sensation quickly had her head turn back towards Nicky—whose face exhibited a severe amount of apprehension upon it. With a warm hand placed on her cheek, the younger girl caressed her thumb soothingly along the flesh of it. "I just—I gotta check to see if my dad's okay. I'm—I-I'm really sorry ya hadda see all this," she informed the other, though her voice faintly tremored.
Despite how faint the tremoring might have been, it certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by Nicky. And the fact that Mr. Morello had clearly been in possession of a gun, now, wasn't something that helped convince her that it would be a wise decision to allow Lorna out of the car alone. She found herself shaking her head rather profusely while tightening her arms around the other's waist. The thought of risking her girlfriend's safety left a sour taste in her mouth. That was something she'd absolutely refused to allow.
"Okay, first, I need ya to stop apologizing—none of this is any a your fault, kid. And second, there is no way in hell I'm letting you exit this car when your dad is running around with a damn gun in his hand. You don't need to worry about him at all. You need to worry about you. We need to get outta here before he tries to shoot us, yeah?"
Lorna swallowed uncomfortably, shifting her eyes back out the wide open passenger door. Smoke still gathered in the same spot as it had the last time she peeked out. She felt a constriction in her chest. Her thoughts raced inside her mind; either her father had shot himself or was shooting the ground to scare the two of them. Either way, it was becoming harder and harder to take in any air through her windpipe. She needed to get out of the car to be able to breathe again. Albeit Nicky's resistance, she carefully pulled herself out of the secure embrace and made herself walk out through the open door.
She stood with her back leaning vaguely against the car, letting the fresh air finally enter inside her mouth as she sharply inhaled. The smoke slightly clouded her vision as she cautiously walked nearer to investigate more closely. Her eyes quickly caught a glimpse of a black, shiny, object that lie amongst the moist grass. The closer she came to it, the more of said object she saw and soon realized it was the gun her father had used. A lump molded inside of her stomach as she slowly bent down to observe it on a more intimate level. Her eyes glanced around the area to see if Mr. Morello was anywhere nearby, the rate of her heartbeat raised significantly as she did so.
Nothing of the sort caught her attention. However, another person's presence could be felt by their breath on her back from behind. Out of fear that it might have been her father, Lorna's body instinctively jumped forward. Her breath heavy, she gradually turned around to face the person and was a tad bit relieved to see that it was only Nicky standing in front of her. She sighed and reached a hand up to run across her own forehead. The sensation of water dripping from her skin came as a surprise. She hadn't realized she was sweating; in fact, she hadn't thought it to be possible to sweat in such freezing temperatures.
Nicky tilted her head somewhat as her eyes peered worriedly ahead into the brunette's. A hand reached out in front of her and landed on Lorna's cheek, cradling around it in a tender manner. Their eyes locked together and she felt an overwhelming rush of protectiveness come over her. She curled a strand of dark hair behind her ear, observing her expression rather meticulously. It was raw, emotionless and emotional all at once. A deep breath made its way up from her lungs without any effort on her part.
"Come on, doll, let's get back in the car. It's not safe to be out here when your dad is acting the way he is. Let's go back to my car and I'll drive us somewhere safer and we'll figure out what to do, okay?"
Though it was obvious the older girl's words were nothing short of honest, Lorna hesitated at following her back to the car. Part of her needed to find where her father had gone off to. She swallowed a large amount of saliva and spun slowly around, letting her eyes span the surrounding area. There was no clear sign of Mr. Morello, yet, she still felt the need to locate him. Even if he had been an asshole to her and everyone else the past few years, she knew if something had happened to him she would never be able to forgive herself for fleeing.
The fact that Lorna seemed adamant on not leaving the unsafe environment caused the ache in Nicky's chest to deepen significantly. A sigh escaped her as she turned to follow the shorter teen. If Lorna was going to stay, she knew she had to as well. There was no chance she'd allow her to be alone with Mr. Morello after what she had witnessed go down only a short time ago. Her arm slid securely around the other's waist as she let her eyes scan the area for any signs of that vile man. Nothing caught her attention other than the gun that she only now noticed was in Lorna's hands.
Her mouth gaped open at the sight, she reached down to frame her hands on the younger one's face. Momentarily stopping them from walking any farther. "Put that down, kid," she cried out, not sure how she felt seeing it in her girlfriend's delicate hands. It looked so foreign—unnatural—for Lorna to be holding a gun. She swallowed uncomfortably, peering sternly ahead into her brown eyes. Brown eyes that she noticed seemed far away from her own all of a sudden.
Lorna fearfully shook her head, tightening her grip around the gun. Like hell she was going to put it back down just for her father to have the chance to find it and take control of it once more. Because, she realized, if he repossessed it then the next time he shot with it, he may just actually shoot one of them. And, sure, if it was herself he shot at, that wouldn't be much of a problem for her (in fact, that was something she would likely welcome if she had the choice)—however, had he shot at Nicky, that was something she wouldn't even risk happening.
"I don't want my dad to have this. He-he'll shoot again if I put it back and he finds it. I can't let that happen, Nicky."
"I get that, doll, I do," Nicky softly assured, caressing the back of her hand delicately against the flesh of the cheek it cradled around. "But if you're gonna hold onto it, then, will ya please come back to the car with me? I want to get us the hell outta here. You're hysterical right now and I just want to get us somewhere safe. Please, kid, please come with me. You can keep the gun, just let's go."
The desperation in her voice pulled heavily on Lorna's heartstrings, however, not enough to encourage her to give up on her quest to find her father. Maybe it was stupid of her to want to find him after all the abuse he'd dished out. Maybe she was completely insane for wanting to make sure he was alive, at the very least. However, none of those thoughts were enough to halt her either. She was likely all of those things because she certainly didn't want to find Mr. Morello dead on the grass in front of their own house. Having already lost her mother, she knew losing her father would deem her an orphan and that wasn't something she wanted. A selfish reason to not want her father dead, she realized, and that quickly formed a guilty pang in her chest.
"Lorna, you can't keep looking for him with the gun in your hand. Either ya keep the gun and come back to the car with me or ya put the gun down and I'll help ya find him," Nicky firmly informed her. Her eyes watched over her intently, she felt her breath hitch slightly in her throat. She wrapped an arm protectively around her waist, wanting nothing more than to whisk her away to safety.
Lorna felt herself come back to the present moment. She turned her head to return the gaze Nicky was giving her and sighed. It was probably a smart idea to head back to the car and drive as far away from there as possible, she thought. And, deep down, she wanted that more than anything. She wanted to get away from Mr. Morello as much as humanly possible. However, the reality was that no matter what—until she was an adult capable of making rational decisions—she would have to remain in the same house with him. That was why she tried so hard to keep Nicky from ever witnessing any of his bibulous rages like the one she had observed that very evening. Guilt overpowered her as she stood there, looking between her girlfriend and the fading smoke cloud. This wasn't supposed to happen. Nicky was never supposed to find about her dad. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and swallowed thickly. Nothing made sense anymore.
Watching her attentively, Nicky traced her thumb ever-so-lightly along the outline of her face. It broke her heart enormously to see the sheer unease melded upon it. All she wanted was to take Lorna in her arms and carry her as far away from that house as she could. However, it was clear the brunette wasn't too keen on the idea of leaving. She sighed, moving a loose piece of hair from her eyes and pecking her lips warmly over the flesh of her cheek.
"What do you want to do, kid?" The query tenderly came out of her mouth as she continued to caress her thumb around Lorna's delicate skin.
A simple question, yet, no simple answer for it. Lorna opened and shut her mouth several times with no words escaping it. She swallowed a wad of saliva and averted her eyes down towards the ground. The bright shade of green that made up the grass beneath her mesmerized her for a few seconds as she tried to think of what to respond with. What she wanted to do was the opposite of what Nicky suggested. Though, she knew it was the safer option to do what the other girl thought they should.
Before she could respond, however, a familiar figure came into her peripheral vision. She swallowed and her legs suddenly stiffened. Her mind told her to run, yet, the stiffness prevented her from acting on that. The only part of her body that hadn't been stiff seemed to be her head. She turned it to look frantically back at Nicky. "Nicky, I-I can't move but, but I wanna leave. I wanna leave so bad," her voice shakily cried out.
Instantly, the redhead was right by her side with her arms encircling warmly around her. Scooping her up into a cradled position, Nicky hurriedly walked them in the direction of her car. She quickly—in a frantic frenzy—fastened Lorna back in her earlier spot and then ran to get in on the other side of the vehicle, repeating the same motions for herself. Once they were at a decent distance away from the Morello house, she turned to look Lorna over. A hand reached across to soothingly rest atop the other's.
"You okay, babe?" She spoke up once she deemed it safe enough to do so.
Lorna swallowed and moved her head slightly so that their eyes were facing the same direction. The cold metal of the gun pressed against the palm of her hand that she held it in. She sucked in a sharp breath when she remembered she still had the damn thing in her possession. There was a noticeable tightness in her throat that she tried to rid away by clearing it. To no avail. Instead, another breath inhaled and exhaled. Finally giving some relief to the tight sensation.
Gradually, she shifted her eyes back towards the taller girl. They took in every centimeter of her face and features, absorbing each emotion displayed upon it. Her heart dully ached in her chest; with a tender hand, she rested it softly on one of Nicky's cheeks. "I don't know what I am, hon. But I-I'm just glad he didn't shoot you or anything. Are we far enough away that he can't come for us?"
"It's okay, doll, it's okay. We're on the highway now, I don't think he'll be able to catch up to us—he was pretty intoxicated anyway so I doubt he could even figure out how to get in the car let alone drive it," Nicky pointed out, placing one of her hands delicately on top of Lorna's. "You can set the gun on the floor, yeah? We're safe now, kid. I promise. Where do you want to go? Ya want me to drive us to your sister's place?"
"Uh, yeah, I think it would be best to just go to my sista's. She, she's already upset over last night and I feel real bad about that. I-I just—this is gonna make her even more upset," the brunette answered in a rather muffled voice. Her eyes focused down on her hands that she had folded in her lap. Franny already held so much guilt for their abusive father's actions, so, to have to explain to her the most recent incident molded a lump in Lorna's gut. She rested her head down against the rim of the window and exhaled sharply. On a sick level, she wished her father's gun had come in contact with her. Maybe death would finally put a stop to all that she felt.
That was when she remembered the gun still lay cradled in her hands. No, she mentally talked herself out of any rash decisions, she couldn't give in to such a desire. Not with Nicky right there beside her. Absolutely not. The trauma and hurt an action like that would cause Nicky was enough to stop her from moving the gun anywhere near her upper body. Still, she kept a tight grip on it as her hands held it while lying upon her lap. She swallowed thickly, deterring her eyes between her girlfriend and the scenery passing by out the window.
The silence, that usually was comfortable, now seemed uneasy and highly out of place. Nicky shifted her eyes at every red light or stop sign over in the younger girl's direction. The expression on her face told her everything she needed to know. Lorna was not okay, not at all. She deterred her eyes down to the delicate hands that were sprawled out in her lap and felt the tightness in her chest rear its face once more when the gun laid between them. To see her girlfriend still holding that thing intensified the looming uneasiness that already took up the atmosphere in the car.
"You can put the gun on the floor now," she stated, taken slightly aback by the shakiness of her own voice. Her eyes grasped a faded panic as they held their gaze on the god-forsaken object. "Your dad is nowhere nearby anymore, baby, you don't need that gun. Please put it on the ground. It just—it makes me nervous seeing it in your hands."
Lorna effortlessly heard the trepidation in the redhead's voice. It broke her heart to know how upset the whole ordeal made her girlfriend feel—how anxious and agonized she, now, appeared to be. The guilt in her gut rose. She looked down at the gun and sighed. As much as she wanted to keep it there for easy access, she rather not continue to cause Nicky any more unneeded apprehension. She cautiously, timidly even, took it off of her lap and placed the gun on the floorboard beside her feet.
With both of her hands free now, she used one to place on top of Nicky's that was resting on the compartment between the two seats. "It's on the ground now, hon. I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't mean to make ya worry. I just I don't know if my dad if—"
"Stop, I'm not mad at you. I just don't like seeing something that can kill you in your hands. It's okay, Lorna, we're almost at your sister's and as soon as we get there, we'll call the police. Everything will be okay," Nicky softly hushed, squeezing the hand that held hers tightly.
Coming from Nicky's mouth, the words were certainly genuine and nearly adequate to convince Lorna that such was possible. Yet, the part of her that held so tightly onto past experiences wouldn't fully allow her to believe that anything would ever be okay. How could it? When what she tried so hard to keep from anyone finding out blew up right in her face. She sighed, retained her previous position of her head resting against the rim of the window and said nothing further for the duration of the drive.
Blue eyes gazing apprehensively over the gun that her younger sister held up, Franny placed a hand over one of her temples and rubbed at it rather furiously. "So, let me get this straight—dad had that in his hands and was shooting it in the front yard? Did, did he hurt either a ya?" With her son already in bed for the night, she tried to keep her anger to a minimum. Getting herself worked up would only lead to yelling, she reminded herself. Yelling would wake up her son, which in turn meant she'd have to spend another two hours getting him back to sleep. That meant she had to do her hardest to not allow the rage to overpower her better judgement. A sigh escaped and she shook her head.
Lorna swallowed a sour taste, focusing her eyes back on the gun that she had repossessed once the two of them arrived at her sister's apartment only twenty minutes earlier. It felt both foreign and comforting holding the object in her hands. Because having it with her meant Mr. Morello had no control over such a potentially deadly weapon. She shifted her legs back and forth as she sat on the sofa between her older sister and Nicky. The two people who meant most her to her—the two women who showed her unconditional love. She sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall beside the television set. It was already past eight o'clock in the evening, she acknowledged.
"He didn't hurt us, Fran. I-I don't even know if he's okay. I saw him on the ground but I didn't check to see if he was alive or hurt, I didn't want him to take the gun and shoot Nicky or anything."
Shaking her head at the comment her girlfriend just shared, Nicky instinctively grabbed a hold of one of her hands and gave it a tender squeeze. She hadn't forgotten the image of Mr. Morello's shoving Lorna onto the floor of her bedroom right before the shooting incident. And, certainly, she wasn't about to allow Lorna to ignore that either. Her eyes shifted over towards the eldest woman. "Yeah, he didn't shoot at us or anything…but he did hurt Lorna. We were in her room and he fuck—freaking tackled her to the ground and slapped her a sure heck of a lot."
The older teen's admission instantly formed a guilty pang in the brunette's chest. If only she had just not ignored her father and answered when he questioned her, neither of them would be in the current predicament that they were. It was her own fault for upsetting him in the first place, she noted, she should have given an answer to his inquiry and maybe all of what happened could have been avoided. She felt her hand automatically grip tighter onto the gun that rested on her lap.
Nicky noticed the gesture and peered intensely into Lorna's brown eyes. "Why do ya still have that thing in your hand? Please put it anywhere that isn't in your reach," she pleaded, desperation clearly seeping through her voice.
The older brunette nodded in agreement with Nicky, holding out a hand so that her sister could give the item to her. Seeing something that had the potential to be highly dangerous in the hands of her blatantly naïve younger sister gave her an uneasy sensation. She wasn't sure if that was because she was just terrified from hearing about what almost happened or if she worried that Lorna might actually use that gun to harm herself. Either way, she agreed with her sister's girlfriend that the gun needed to be out of her grasp.
"Give it to me, Lorn. Now," Franny commanded firmly, waving her hand at the girl. She didn't budge until she felt the coldness of the metal hit the palm of her hands. Without a drop of hesitation, she hurriedly took and placed it in a secure area out of reach of both her toddler child and younger sister.
"I don't understand why the two a ya are getting all worked up about me holding the damn gun. It's not like I'd do anything with it," Lorna stated with the bouncing of her shoulders in a shrug.
She fixed her eyes down on her lap where her hands now lied—palm-faced up—empty. The sensation of emptiness made her feel tight in the chest. She swallowed thickly and glanced back between the other two. Her eyes squinted as she tried to piece together what the reason for their frantic worrying was. When it dawned on her, she shook her head abruptly. "What? Did ya think I was gonna try to shoot myself? Finish the job that everyone thinks I failed in the girl's bathroom at school?"
It was Franny who acted first, standing in front of the smaller brunette to halt her from running way. Something Lorna seemed to do way too much of, she noticed. She grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, yet in a way that wouldn't scare her off, and peered sternly down into her eyes. "I don't know what to think or believe about you, Lorn. You worry me, a lot. You won't talk to me about anything and I don't even know if you're opening up to your thera—"
"Can ya just keep your voice down? Isn't Marco asleep anyway? We shouldn't be talking about this right now," Lorna briskly interjected. The last thing she needed after everything else that happened was for Nicky to hear that she was meeting with a therapist—or in her eyes, a shrink. She knew that would only convince the redhead just how truly insane she certainly was.
Exasperation oozed from Franny's face. Her grip on the younger girl's shoulder slightly tightened. "When will it ever be a good time to talk about this? You will always find some kind of excuse to avoid talking, Lorna, and I'm just so exhausted having to fight ya on this," was her honest response. She sighed, removing her hands from Lorna's shoulders and, instead, wrapping her in a maternal embrace. Despite the mental fatigue her younger sister's avoidance had on her, she knew she had to push past that to help her. There was no way she'd lose Lorna, not when she already lost her mother and their father clearly chose alcohol over the two of them.
"But now is not good. Nicky's here, I don't want her to have to listen to us argue over nothing. It's, it ain't fair to her."
Franny shifted her eyes up at the ceiling for a moment and then reached a hand up to massage at her temples. "Argue over nothing? Lorna, this is not nothing. And you know what? Maybe it's good your friend is here so she can finally hear that you're not fucking okay like I'm sure ya keep telling her. You're pretending in front of everyone and it's obvious how much it's draining you—I mean look at ya, Lorn, you're not taking care of yourself. When's the last time ya—"
"Are you calling me fat, Franny?" The shorter brunette interrupted, pushing herself out of the embrace and folding her arms defensively over her chest. All the other words bypassed her comprehension and instead she found herself hyper focusing on the implication that Franny insinuated she was overweight. Rather lack thereof, however, her brain convinced her that not taking care of herself meant that the older woman assumed she was getting heavier.
"Fat? Lorna, what are ya talking about? I did not say anything about ya being fat, quite the opposite."
"So you think I'm fat then, huh?"
Franny furrowed a brow, placing her hands on her hips as she looked the younger girl over in concern. "No, Lorn, I don't think you are fat. I never even said the word fat. What the hell are ya thinkin'? I'm trying to talk to you about the fact ya keep pretending everything's fine, I don't know how the hell ya got fat outta that," she muttered, the frustration quickly growing.
The smaller brunette held up her hands and waved them profoundly in her face. "You just said I got fat. Well, if that's how ya feel Fran, I'll just fucking starve myself then." It was as if her mind liked to only process what it wanted Lorna to hear, even if the words weren't exactly spoken from her sister's mouth. She didn't wait for a response, moving forcefully past Franny and running down the hall to the guest room.
Taking her head in her hands, Franny inhaled a sharp breath and ran her fingers repetitively up and down her cheeks. Whatever was going on with her sister, she hoped the therapist would be able to get through to her about it. Watching her like this was beginning to pull on her own mental health, she rapidly noticed. And, having to also mother her toddler son, she knew she couldn't handle her clearly ill sister. A sigh puffed out of her at such a realization. That wasn't something she wanted to admit to—she loved her sister more than anything and detested that she wasn't enough to help her. That she wasn't enough to keep taking care of her.
Another sigh; she deterred her eyes from the hallway over towards Nicky. "I'm sorry you had to see us fight. And I'm sorry you had to see our drunk father be his stupid drunk self. Please forgive our shitty Morello genetics. Lorna's a good girl but she just—she's a lot to handle, she's stubborn and doesn't like to open up about anything."
The scene that played out only seconds earlier did nothing to ease any of Nicky's worry. However, to hear Franny apologize—much like Lorna did previously—she finally made sense of why her girlfriend always felt the need to be sorry for what she had no control over. "You don't have to be sorry for anything, really. I just—I had no idea how bad things were for Lorna. I know she's stubborn, most stubborn girl I've ever met but she's also the sweetest and I-I love her so much. And I really wish I would of known about all this sooner so I could have helped and maybe prev—"
"Prevented this? No, don't talk like that. Even if ya did know sooner, there's no way any of us woulda known if something like this woulda happened. You're a good kid, too, Nicky and I really am thankful my sista has someone like you. Just—I know she's a lot, but she means well. She always means well," Franny gently advised the other. It was only the truth, she knew, Lorna certainly was a lot to deal with but one of the most caring people out there, too.
