Chapter Seventy-Four

"You two little girls need to stop with all the fucking chatter," George Mendez's voice boomed through the living room of his brother's house on one late summer evening.

Eleven year old Lorna gulped immediately upon hearing her uncle's words echoing through the room. Ever since the Morello's started their annual family reunions five years earlier her father always made sure to invite Uncle George to spend the week before the event at their house. An entire week of pure agony in young Lorna's mind. None of them—aside from Mr. Morello—could stand George Mendez. He brought with him an eerie aura. An aura that left the entire house feeling unsettled.

Franny pushed up off the couch, slightly standing in front of her younger sister to shield her from their uncle's view, and gave him a hard stare over. He was a sleazy, greasy, man. A sick man. He shouldn't be allowed out in public, she thought, let alone allowed to be staying for an entire seven days in her family's house. Near her and Lorna. Hell, she was more concerned for Lorna's safety than her own. Lorna wasn't even a teenager yet, hadn't even begun her puberty journey and yet their perverted uncle sat up in Mr. Morello's recliner, staring hungrily at the petite child. It sickened her, angered her, made her hands ball into fists to see him check out her kid sister like that.

George eyed her suspiciously from the recliner, picking up his beer from the end-table and chugging the rest of it down. "The fuck are ya doin'? Sit down so I can keep an eye on your bratty sister. You're blocking my view."

"Blocking your view? Your eyes don't need to be on my sista. They're demented eyes and I'm not letting you gawk at her anymore. It's disgustin'. You're disgustin'," the older brunette spat out, darkening her glare on the man. The man who fucking didn't deserve to be sitting in their living room, chugging that damn beer, giving such a grotesque sneer towards she and her sister.

After inhaling a deep breath in through her nose, she carefully released it and shook her head. He was just like their father but worse. If that was even possible, she thought. Mr. Morello was a shit of a dad the last year—drunken angry, borderline abusive, of a father—but at least he didn't sit there staring sensually at his two young daughters like Uncle George never ceased from doing.

The bottle of beer now void of any liquid, he slammed it back down against the coaster it had rested on prior and snapped his head in direction of his older niece. Glaring just as darkly right back at her. She wasn't nearly as sexy as her little sister, he determined the longer his eyes lingered on her lengthy body. No, he had no use for her. He wanted Lorna—such innocent youth that emanated from her. An innocence and naivety that had him craving for her.

He grumbled out a breath. With that damn weasel Franny refusing to get the hell out of the way, he knew he had no chance of getting what he'd been desiring. And that was a damn crime, he thought. George Mendez always got what he wanted, what he fucking craved—this was no different. If he wanted little naïve Lorna he was damn well going to get her. No matter what it took.

Settling back down on the recliner, he pushed his back against the cushion and turned his head in Franny's direction. The sneer on his face he tried to disguise as a smile. But he knew he wasn't a fucking smiler. Smiling made him want to hurl. He cleared his throat and did his best not to let it appear forced. "You know, I believe your boyfriend stopped over earlier. Maybe you should go give him a call, Franny. I mean he looked like he really was missin' ya. I'm just sayin'," his hands went up in the air the same time her blurted out the statement.

Something about how he was looking at her while informing her of such rubbed her the wrong way. It didn't seem genuine at all, only made her think he was only telling her that to get her out of the room. Arms folded defensively over her chest. She wasn't stupid and she definitely wasn't about to let her sister be alone in this room with their perverted uncle. "Yeah, sure. If he really wanted to see me he could fucking reach out by phone. Ya really think I'm dumb enough to believe anything you say? I know what you're tryna do."

"I ain't tryna do nothing. I was just tryna be a nice uncle and make sure you knew your boyfriend came by but I guess you're just a heartless bitch, huh? No wonder your dad's taken up drinking again," he snickered, shaking his head. Eyes looking casually up and down Franny's body. He was glad he only had to deal with his nieces for a few days rather than stuck living with them like his brother had to. He'd be constantly drunk, too, living with these soul-sucking, emotional draining, vermin.

Hell, he thought, just the mental conversation was exhausting him. He needed another beer. His feet roughly planted themselves down on the wooden floor and he snatched the empty one from the end-table quite harshly.

While he was occupied in the kitchen, the two brunette sisters were relieved to be rid of his presence. Even for only a few moments.

Lorna finally moved, lifting her head so she could look up at Franny. Her legs dangled from the sofa she sat on, too short to reach the floor from the position she was in with her back all the way against the cushion. She wished she was even smaller—small enough to not be seen by their uncle. Their uncle who made her insides flip around any time he came around. And it hadn't been the good kind of flipping, she thought. Not like when she was excited for summer or to go shopping with her mom. No, this felt more like her organs were being slowly mauled to death by a bear. A bear called Uncle George.

The paleness of her face formed a frown on Franny's. None of this was right, fair. This was their home—a place that should make them feel safe and happy but now left them uncomfortable and constantly fearing they were going to do something to cause an anger outburst whether it be from their father or uncle. Whoever happened to be in the room with them at the time. Her head shook bitterly. They shouldn't have to fucking feel this way all the damn time, she angrily thought. They shouldn't have to live in trepidation in their own goddamn fucking house.

And it wasn't like their mom hadn't tried her damnedest to talk Mr. Morello out of asking his brother to stay with them. Because she did. She fucking did. Stansie always did everything and anything she could for the three of them, Franny knew; none of this was her mother's fault. She tried so hard to fight Mr. Morello on this but hell, with his drinking habits in full swing, no one could win an argument against him. Not unless they wanted a beating.

It was as if her thoughts had some sort of magic to them because not long after she stood there angrily thinking about Mr. Morello and his out-of-control alcohol consumption, he came in through the front door with what looked to be a case or two more of beer. She shook her head in disappointment, biting down on her lip to stop it from faintly shaking. It hurt seeing what he'd become recently—ever since he'd gotten back in contact with his brother—he used to be a loving, kind, generous father and now all he did was drink and yell. And, god, their poor mom. She cried herself to sleep most nights, Franny could hear it through the thin walls between their rooms. It wasn't fucking fair. Stansie put all of herself into the relationship, put all of herself into the three of her and her siblings, put all of herself into trying to help Joe…and all she fucking got in return was her drunken husband's screaming matches. Franny hated watching her mother suffer with all of it.

Mr. Morello walked in the room and stopped right before the doorway into the kitchen. He twisted his head around to gaze at his daughters. "The fuck are ya two doing just lazing around my living room for? It's a damn mess in here. Get to cleaning. We have a guest over, it's fucking rude to leave the house lookin' like this," the words slurred slightly through his teeth, alcohol already leaking from his breath.

"Jesus, dad, did ya fucking drive home drunk? Your breath smells like fucking whiskey and it's not even noon, yet."

Tightening his grasp on the two boxes of beer in his arms, he gave a hard stare towards his oldest daughter. Who the hell was she to fucking interrogate him in such a manner? The question ran through his mind. His mind which was slightly subdued from the three shots of whiskey he'd had before heading home from the liquor store. "You have no authority to speak to me that way, Francine. It ain't none a yer damn business what I choose to do, ya hear me?"

Rage bubbled beneath her skin. She yearned to slam something, to cause a piercing sound through the room but that would only make her as bad as her dad she realized. Would likely only cause her little sister more fear. She wouldn't do that to Lorna. Lorna was already so terrified of their father and uncle, she didn't want Lorna to also be afraid of her. So, instead, Franny settled for only clasping her hands together. "Well, no, I do actually. I do, because you're our dad and what messed up shit ya decide to do affects me and Lorna and Mikey. I mean you're fucking drunk and you drove home that way, you coulda killed someone. Do you not care what that would do to your family or other peoples' families? Do you not care what you're doing to mom by fucking drinking yourself to death all the damn time?"

Watching the conversation from her spot on the couch, Lorna felt her cheeks moisten with tears. When did her family become such a mess? She lifted her hands up and covered them against her ears. Maybe if she kept them covered she could pretend none of this was real. Pretend that her family wasn't falling apart more and more each day. That her uncle wasn't a demented, possible, sex offender. That everything was peachy and fine.

"Ya know, Francine, can ya just shut the fuck up? I'm the parent here, not you. I know what the hell's right and wrong, I'm not a fucking idiot—"

"Are ya sure about that, dad?" Franny bitterly interjected, folding her arms over her chest and peering her father up and down. He was so drunk that she easily watched as his body unstably moved from one side to the other as he stood near the kitchen doorway. All she could do was shake her head in disappointment once again. "Because most parents don't get drunk at fucking eleven o'clock in the morning every goddamn day. Most parents who know right and wrong also know not to fucking drive when they're shit-faced like you clearly are. I mean if ya really think ya know what's right and wrong then clearly you are a fucking idiot. Because you know drinking to oblivion and then getting behind the wheel is wrong and you did it anyway, dad. That makes you a fucking idiot. A fucking idiot who coulda hurt or killed people."

Mr. Morello darkened his eyes as they looked his oldest child over. The nerve she fucking had to speak to him like that. Oh did it piss him off. Did it make him want to beat the attitude the hell out of her. He turned his head to see if there were any witnesses around—Lorna sat on the sofa, hands on her ears and eyes closed, looking like the crazy child she was—and he was glad to see none were around. At least no credible witnesses. Lorna wouldn't say anything if he could help it.

He inched himself closer to the tall brunette and when she appeared to have her focus elsewhere, he grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall. His grip remained tightened around it as he held her in place, gazing menacingly into her blue eyes. "Ya better get rid a that attitude a yours, Francine. That fuckin' holier than thou attitude, get the fuck off your high horse. Ya ain't better than me just cause I drink," he spat in her face, not caring that his saliva was falling onto the teen's face. Who winced every time it did.

Franny did her best to keep her composure. Freaking out and getting upset would only make Mr. Morello angrier. And that would only lead to more yelling and pain for her. Which would then lead to more fear and worry for Lorna, who she noticed already looked so terrified sitting on the couch a few feet away. She grinded down on her teeth, bringing her gaze back onto her father. He appeared so cruel in front of her with his hands grasping harshly at her neck and his eyes so dark she could barely differentiate his pupils from his irises.

"I may be a drunk," he went on to say, moving his face closer to Franny's—so damn close she was able to feel his breath on her. It instantly caused a discomforting shudder out of her. Mr. Morello nodded his acknowledgement. She deserved to feel uncomfortable. She fucking did, he thought, after she fucking stood there having the audacity to scream at him. His head shook copiously. "But you—you're a damn whore, Francine. A dirty whore. Don't think I don't notice your parade of men coming in and out this damn house. And quite frankly it makes me sick."

The next thing they knew, Mr. Morello was lifting his hand and bringing it closer and closer to Franny's face. It was only a matter of seconds before it smacked fiercely, loudly, against her cheek. "I oughta ground ya for being so rebellious."

Everything was all too much for Lorna. She thought her hands would be able to stop her from hearing what was going on but it only muffled the sounds a very slight amount. She still heard the nasty things their father said to Franny. The mean way his hand abused her big sister's cheek. It was enough. Way more than enough. The tears began flowing from her eyes and she stood up off the couch, running her way over despite Franny's attempts to nonverbally tell her not to. She didn't care what happened to herself—all she wanted was to come to her older sister's defense. Franny didn't deserve to be called such yucky names, she thought. She didn't deserve any of what their dad did to her.

The minute she approached where Franny and Mr. Morello were standing, she threw her short arms around Franny's side and tried desperately to pull her away from the drunken, angry, man. "Leave Fran alone, dad. None a what you said is true or nice. I'm gonna tell mommy that you hit Franny—you're so mean," the words shook out of her voice. Her voice which grew louder and louder the more she spoke. She did her best to not sound scared because she knew that would just make it easier for her dad to taunt her. And, now, she needed to be the tough one. For Franny. The big sister who always protected her. It was her turn to return the favor, she determined.

"Oh you're gonna tell mommy, are ya?" Mr. Morello chuckled.

He shook his head and then turned it so his eyes were fixed on the younger brunette. The little pipsqueak of a brunette, he corrected. She was a damn weasel compared to the rest of her siblings. Fuck, he irritatingly thought, even before she was born she was a damn weasel. She wasn't supposed to exist and having her standing right there with Franny—in his eyes, rudely interjecting their conversation—pissed him off in a manner he could not explain.

One hand released from Franny's neck and was moved over to grab harshly at the smaller child. He gripped onto her shoulder, digging his nails into the blade of it. "Mommy's on a business trip until Friday, little girl, so she ain't gonna be able to help ya. Now, you better just stay the fuck outta ya sista's and me's conversation, ya got that? You know what—I think ya oughta be punished for interrupting us," he muttered, a smirk forming on his face as he thought up the perfect punishment.

Lorna gulped uneasily the second she heard her father's revelation. Five days stuck in this house with her dad and uncle and no mom? She felt her legs wobble slightly. It was going to be a long, horrific, five days she realized. Her eyes widened and she moved her head to look up at Franny, who only returned the stare with an apprehensive one of her own. She swallowed and returned her attention onto their father. As much as she didn't want to, she settled on apologizing and begging for Mr. Morello's mercy. Otherwise she knew things would only get worse.

"No, please, dad…I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll just go away and uh and leave you two alone. I'll clean my room. Please don't punish me, dad, I'm sorry," she pleaded, trying her hardest to sound believable but it left the bitterest of tastes in her mouth.

A chirpy snicker sounded through Mr. Morello's throat. He grabbed Lorna by the shoulders having just released Franny from his grasp and dragged her backwards towards the staircase. Once her feet were planted onto the bottom step, he let go of her and watched as her petite body fell against the rest of the stairs behind her. "Yeah, you better hurry the fuck up there and get cleaning. And while yer fuckin' at it, clean the bathroom too. Ya brat, thinking you have any right to interrupt me. Go on, get," he yelled, stomping his foot against the wood as if to scare her away.

He turned back to Franny and gestured his hands between her and the stairs. "You go on and get up there and clean too, young lady. You girls have some goddamn fucking nerve. Stop spending so much time with yer damn motha," he stated, not moving from his spot until he saw his eldest child comply by his demand.

After she was all the way up the stairs and out of view—hopefully out of earshot as well, he thought—he yelled into the kitchen for George. "Get the hell outta there. I need ya to fuckin' help me discipline my unruly eleven year old, George," he called out. There was no allowing Lorna to get away with such disrespectful behavior. If she wanted to act like an adult then he was going to make sure she knew what adults really endured. Little brat, he shook his head.

It wasn't much later when George came back through doorway with a fresh beer in his hand. He brought it to his mouth for a sip and squinted his eyes as he looked his brother over mysteriously. "And how do ya want me to discipline her? I mean I can think of a couple ways," he let his voice drift off as he imagined finally having his Lorna under his control. Ever since he'd first started coming around he had a strong lust for little Lorna. And this gave him the perfect fucking excuse to do what he wanted.

"She wants to act like an adult and interrupt my conversations then she can be treated like one. I don't care what ya do with her, but something needs done and I ain't in the mood to deal with her shit. She shoulda never even been born. Fucking goddamn broken fucking condom. Lorna was a damn mistake."


Lorna was knee deep into organizing the dolls on one of her bookshelves when she heard the sound of her door squeaking open. Thinking it was only Franny, she didn't stop what she was doing. "I'm not done yet, Fran. I don't wanna get in no more trouble please don't come in," her voice quivered as she placed the last doll back on its space on the shelf. After she'd spent a good ten minutes dusting each one. She knew if the wood wasn't shining her father would throw them right back off again and make her re-clean them.

"You don't wanna get in no more trouble, don't you?"

The second she heard that voice she knew it wasn't her sister who'd opened the door. The color in her face instantly drained and she became merely frozen in her spot. She couldn't even move her head to see who was lurking in her room. Heck, she didn't need to see to know it was her demented uncle who had addressed her. She felt a knot quickly morph in the pit of her gut and wished she could somehow poof herself right the hell out of that room.

Mendez slowly made his way wholly in the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him, and perched himself on the end of her bed. He watched as Lorna timidly turned to him, eyes widened with apprehension and a whole lot of trepidation. Exactly what he wanted to see displayed on her face. Her face that only intensified his desire for her. He didn't give one fuck that she wasn't even a teenager yet. That she had the body of a fragile child. He craved her. To touch her, to fucking stroke her. To fuck her. Something about the innocence of a child turned him on. And the fact that his brother gave him free reign to do what he wanted with Lorna made it all the more easier.

"Well, Lorna, I'm afraid it's too fucking late for that. Your dad gave me permission to punish you. Said if ya wanna act like an adult then it's time ya be treated like one," he moved off the bed and walked to where Lorna remained frozen in front of her bookshelf. Kneeling slowly down on the floor beside her. A smirk swiftly shaping onto his face as he reached to place his hand on her arm.

The unwelcome touch caused a violent flinch out of the brunette child, who tried her hardest to pull away from him but soon learned how bad of an idea that was.

Within seconds of her refusal of his touches, she found herself being forcibly picked up off the floor and thrown onto her bed. She closed her eyes hoping he would just leave her there, afraid and alone, but when she opened them a minute later she was met with his body hovering unnervingly close to her own.

The smirk on his face widened at the sheer volume of agony on Lorna's. He straddled her small body with each of his legs on either side of it, his hands holding her harshly down against the mattress. He finally had her right where he wanted. Where he'd wanted to have her for the past several years that he'd known her. "You wanna be an adult then I'll treat ya like one, little girl. Ya ever been fucked before? Course' not cause you're supposed to be a child. But guess what right now ya ain't. Right now you're gonna let me do what I want so you learn how much ya don't wanna be an adult right now."

Shaking her head, Lorna lifted one of her legs since her hands were out of commission from the tight grasp on her shoulders and she swung it up and kicked it at her uncle's groin region. She wouldn't allow her own genital region to be violated if she could help it. That was a place no one was allowed to touch, no one but her. Especially not her mean uncle. She didn't want his filthy hands anywhere near her private parts.

He hadn't accounted for Lorna to be so resistive. She was always so reserved and compliant with authority in her life that having been kicked in the penile area came as quite the shock to him. However, if she thought that little stunt was going to deter him then she had another thing coming. Once the pain subsided enough, he pushed himself up and hovered right back over Lorna's petite body. A snicker vibrating through his windpipe as he stared her down. She didn't even try to escape during his downtime, he laughingly concluded.

"Nice try, Lorna," he chuckled, pushing her right back into the mattress.

This time he made sure both of his legs were digging into the sides of Lorna's so that there was no way for her to move and try to pull another stunt like what took place just minutes prior. He moved his hands up to her face and held them around each cheek. As his eyes hungrily peered into hers, he found himself gradually becoming harder and harder in his genital area. The sensation caused the smirk on his face to instantly widen and he let his hands slide from her cheeks all the way down until they got to right above her vaginal region.

Everything inside of Lorna appeared to stop working. The desire to get out of her uncle's grasp dissipated the second he regained his composure and forced her back onto the bed. There was no use trying to escape him. She was a weakling compared to him. Her dad gave him permission to violate her and there wasn't anything she could do stop it. Sure, she could scream and fight him but ultimately all of that would only lead to worse consequences. Which she was too afraid to find out what those could possibly be. It couldn't be much worse than being violated by her own uncle, but she wasn't keen on finding out either way.


Lorna sat motionless in her chair. Eyes gazing blankly at the wall behind her therapist's desk. It was nearing noon on Friday and though she'd still been stuck in the hospital, at least she was able to get the hell out of her room for her therapy appointment. Her therapy appointment which now she regretted having gone to as she sat numb as shit in that damned plastic chair. Dr. Washington's in-patient office felt a lot less comforting than the one in the outpatient clinic. It felt much more sterile in here, she noted.

A breath of air involuntarily exited through her esophagus making her slightly squeal as it pushed out of her mouth. She didn't pay any mind to it. Her mind didn't seem to function properly right now anyway. She could barely remember she was in her therapist's office let alone whether the sound had come from her or another person. The room was cold and her body shivered from a random gust of wind whirling past her. But just as soon as that occurred, something warm was wrapped around her body. She still had no ability to adjust herself to see the culprit of such a sensation, however, the fact that whatever was wrapped around her was able to pull her closer to it made her piece together it was likely another human and not only a blanket or jacket.

When a pair of lips softly rested on one of her ears she was able to confirm the thing wrapped around her was not a thing but a pair of arms belonging to another person. And because she had momentarily ago—in high trepidation—disclosed pertinent information about her past, she instinctively assumed those arms, those lips, to be her uncle's and her body responded automatically with a violent jolt.

Feeling Lorna push away from her after having appeared so tense in her arms, Nicky felt her heart shatter in a manner she never thought possible. All she wanted was to provide a loving embrace for her girlfriend. To wrap her in her arms and keep her safe but Lorna clearly wasn't okay with that, she sadly observed. It hurt. But she swallowed the hurt down. Lorna wasn't doing that on purpose, she tried to gently remind herself even though all she wanted to do was take Lorna back in her arms and never let her out of them again.

Having witnessed the scene play out, Doctor Washington stepped in with the clearing of her throat. She readjusted the glasses on her face and gave a sympathetic stare in Nicky's direction. "I know after hearing what your girlfriend just shared that you want to comfort her but she's still a bit edgy right now from having to talk about an event she likely hasn't thought about since it happened or maybe a little after it happened. So, your touch might have brought her right back to the incident and scared her," she carefully tried to explain to the clearly puzzled redhead.

"But I don't wanna scare her. I love her, Dr. Poussey. I just wanna take care of her," Nicky cried out, finally allowing her tears to fall.

Nodding intuitively, Poussey grabbed a tissue and gently handed it to Nicky. "I know; this isn't your fault. Lorna just needs a breather."