IDK You Yet — Alexander 23

Lucifer

This is the fourth time the bloody fishing hook has gotten stuck on the ceiling, and I have no clue as to why.

And frankly I don't care.

As long as I get the damn thing unstuck then that would be amazing.

"What on earth are you doing, Luci?"

"Testing out the new fishing rods." I say as my big brother enters through the balcony and strolls inside the penthouse. "Safe to admit that quality father-son time at the lake is crossed off the list."

"What list?"

"The list of activities I plan on doing with my son." I turn around and raise a brow. "Honestly Amenadiel, it's like you've been living under a rock for the past two weeks."

"Does he even like to fish?"

I shrug in answer. "I don't know. I just like to be prepared."

"Since when does the King of Hell like to be prepared instead of being spontaneous for the occasion?"

"You're right." I through the rod back into the chest filled with useless whatnots. "I have lost my touch." I spin around and clap my hands together. "First thing we're going to the most expensive sex club in LA."

Amenadiel raises his brow in question.

But my smile widens, ignoring his expression. "Brilliant idea, am I right?"

"Luci."

"What?" I move past him towards a hidden drawer located in one of the walls and pull out a locked box. "How else am I going to be a good father/wingman for him in the future if I don't what kind of assets he prefers to have in bed?"

"I believe you'll be a good father to your children regardless of their orientation, brother." He smiles and moves closer to inspect what I'm doing. "You're overreacting."

"Do you think?" I let a talon out and used it to unlock the box. It opens with a click, and dark eyes are met with a collection of green.

"Just a little." He laughs. "Dad knows I acted the same way when Charlie was born."

Grabbing my wallet from my jacket, I pull out a couple of hundred dollar bills out and scatter them inside Rory's growing collection. Pride radiates off me in waves at the sight. The girl knows how to invest and she's only fifteen.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"You're right." I say and add another five hundred into the mix with a smile on my face. "That's better."

Just then, the sound of the elevator makes a noise and the both of us seize our conversation.

Quickly, just before the doors slide open, I shut the box and place it back where it belongs. And just in time, my hand instinctively flies to my right before I see who steps inside the penthouse, and I turn my ring.

My little girl—not so little anymore—walks inside and heads straight for the cabinets. Completely oblivious to me or her God of an uncle in the room.

I silent prayer escapes my thoughts. Thank you, Remi. I say to my late sister. Her enchanted hunting ring is blessing to have around. There have been many close calls as to when and where I've needed to hide from people, and especially Rory, who cannot know where I am. And for the moment, I'm letting this rule evolve the blond spawn version of me as well. At least until otherwise. I am a man of big plans after all.

My gaze follows to a pissed off Rory rummaging through the bar cabinets, searching for something to either occupy her mind, or make her calm down. Managing to catch a glimpse of her unshed tears, then perhaps both. Just when she finds a soda from the fridge to drink from, she abandons it and goes straight for the brown antique vase at the side of the room.

Oh no.

Rory crabs ahold of the antique—worth millions—and glares at it with a lethal rage that would make any mortal cower in fear.

I shake my head. "Not the vase. It was a gift from Napoleon!"

For a second, I almost assume she will put it back but then she turns to the center of the room. And my heart skips a beat.

No.

"Please, not the piano!" I whine against the decision.

Without the slightest hesitation or even effort, the young lady slams the vase against the instrument.

Chips and pieces of it fly across the room, but surprisingly, the onyx piano still manages to stand its ground and not break.

"Well, that's a first." If I had a dollar for every time someone destroyed another one of my pianos—I think just as the object starts to shake and ultimately collapses against the floor.

She walks past us, and heads for the living room. Flops down onto the couch, back to us, and curls into ball. Small heart wrenching sobs come from her as she begins to cry.

Who hurt her?

Why would someone hurt my little girl? And do they have a death wish because I would gladly gift the person an eternal tormented damnation. I would give them a slow, agonizingly painful death. First, I would cut them to tiny little pieces, and then I would make sure the person would spend their time in Hell filled with complete and utter horror.

But ar the back of my head, I fear her hatred might be due to me.

The sobs of my youngest daughter pull me from my train of thought, just as Amenadiel lightly touches my arm.

"We should go." He says, letting me know we should leave Rory alone. He is right. She does deserve her privacy without us two prying on her like two creeps. But even so, I find myself wanting not too.

My brother heads to the balcony, put I find my feet are glued to the floor.

"...Lucifer?"

"You go on, I'll stay for a little while." My brother leaves us, and I can't help but lift a sad corner of my lip when I look at Rory.

Not because I'm demented, but because these are the few and rare occasions where I can see my daughter in her own vulnerable element.

I lean back, and sit down on the coffee table, observing Rory as times passes by without her moving from the couch.

Eventually her quiet sobs relent, and she begins to fall asleep. By the time she is blissfully oblivious to the outside world, I manage to find a quilt and place it on her body, and tuck her in.

My hand gently pulls back a strand of her midnight black hair from her cheek before I say my final goodbye for the night to my Caterpillar.

"You have no idea how strong and resilient you are, Rory." I say, wishing that she could be able to hear this. "You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Being at this age will be hard, but you will overcome it. Because you are my child, and you can do anything you put your heart's desire and soul into." With a heavy heart, I turn to leave her with her nightmares.

One of the hardest things I've had to do is walk away from my family. From Chloe. From Trixie. And now, yet again, I walk away from Rory without so much as a glance back.