Hello everyone! Welcome to 2025 and the last piece of the track of this rollercoaster ride. I am working diligently to finish this story for you all in the next upcoming months, but... we shall see when that is actually accomplished. Thank you all for being so patient with me, it truly makes me want to create the best final chapters I can because you all deserve it
I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season, and I hope 2025 is a better year for us all, all around the world. It's currently snowmagedon here in the Midwest (11 inches and counting) so it gives me some time to dive back into the final chapters. Enjoy this one! ;P
Screams.
They bounced off the walls but were muffled by the crackling in the air. The sky was hazy and hard to see through the thick black all around. The ringing was getting louder, making the screaming lower in pitch but still able to be heard.
He lay there, partially motionless against the once cool grass now sprinkled with soot and... blood.
The ringing continued, getting worse as he struggled to open his eyes and lift his head off the ground. The blood dripped into his eye, causing him to wince from the pain throughout his body, but his hand clamped hard into the dirt, trying to gather his surroundings.
A whimper passed his lips when he tried to move, a deep gash and a burn to his left arm caused him to cry out in pain and regain enough vision to see the carnage around him. The carnage of someone else's doing.
The swingset his children loved, was now a desecrated pile of melted plastic, ashes, and soot. The garden Kathleen created reduced to nothing more than charred piles of leaves. And the grass beneath his battered body hot like coal and singed; the blades of vibrant green were now nothing more than handfuls of hot ash.
The screams had returned, now reverberating in his ears so loudly, it felt like someone pounding into his skull.
He looked up weakly, pushing himself to balance on his left knee; stomach dropping in horror at the flames shooting up from the guesthouse roof; licking its surroundings with no remorse for what stood inside it.
The place they were.
The place where they would be the most safe.
Quickly, managing to stand, wasting no time in racing to the house, "Amy!" He yelled, limping his way to the door, "AMY!" His throat was burning both from the smoke and the lump like broken glass lodged inside it. "AMY!" He grabbed the handle, pulling and pushing with all the strength he had to pry it off the hinges to no avail - something very heavy was barricading it from the inside - and the thick smoke billowing caused the little window at the top to become nearly impossible to see through.
Putting his burned arm over his face, he coughed violently and went to the next window, this one almost completely blacked out except one, tiny, sliver.
That sliver allowing him to see what he feared the most: Amy.
She was lying on the floor, a deep gash on her forehead as the fire engulfed the room around her. She was motionless and weak, the blood pooling around her limp body.
"No..." He shook his head repeatedly, crying loudly and beating the window, "NO! No! No! No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The flames were getting closer to her, and it took every single ounce of power in his legs to place his boots on the glass and just start kicking; repeatedly and mercilessly until it shattered and his foot felt the heat of the flames.
Crawling through and ripping his side in the process, he swallowed roughly and went to her; scooping her battered frame into his, but just as quickly stumbling and falling to his knees. He was hurt and so was she. Bad. The blood oozed from his side, just as it bubbled from her abdomen. He bit his lip hard to muffle the scream as he laid her gently on the floor and put two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was thready, the same way it was right before she went into shock after giving birth, and her lips were pale. Shaking, he ran his hand over her face and brushed the deep gash on her head with his thumb, hoping that the action would at least make her wince; give him a sign that she was alive and would be okay.
But the blood pouring from her head was the least of the problem because as his hand went lower, he saw it. He saw the large dark red spot on her stomach; the hole gaping and spilling blood all over her once pale blue shirt. He didn't have to inspect it, he already knew it was a bullet hole by the amount of blood and the position of the wound. Now the question arose - who shot her?
Before he could wrap his head around it, he felt a small tug; her hand lifting just enough for her nails to scrape the skin on his palm. "Ri-" She coughed weakly, barely able to get enough air into her lungs to usher the one word that he begged not to hear - "Bob-"
His blood ran cold, every nerve in his body snapping like rubber bands. Her head fell back against his hands shaking violently as he pleaded, "No! No don't you dare close your eyes on me Juergens! I'm going to get you out of here - I'm -" but it was no use, her eyes closed and her breath stopped, going completely limp in his arms. She was gone. Amy was dead.
"No... Please..." He begged, grasping the covers tightly in his fists, "Stop! Please please stop!" Rolling around with short labored breaths.
The blood dripped from his fingers. Her blood. The blood of the woman he loved more than life itself, staining his burned skin as she lay on the floor. The static and ringing pierced his skull like a dull blade.
Amid the chaos, the screaming returned; higher in pitch but quicker in bursts. Much like... children's...
There was no time to grieve his loss because his kids were still in immediate danger and he had to find them before they met the same fate as their mother. And if that happened, he'd have no reason to live anymore either.
The fire was quickly spreading making seeing where he was going nonexistent. Depending on his hands, he felt around his surroundings, hoping to find the only place left in that small guesthouse that they could hide - the bathroom.
The smoke was relentless, burning his eyes and soaking his lungs, making it hard to see or breathe.
"DADDDDYYYYYYY!" He heard his son's screeching, finally finding the knob and pushing on it. It didn't budge, and he didn't have time to find something to break it open, so he tried ramming it a few times to no avail. It too was barricaded heavily from the inside. "DDDDDDAAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!" The screams bounced off the walls, competing with the crackling and popping from the flames taking down everything in their path. Letting the tears spill from his eyes in heaps that spotted his vision, he rooted with his foot to find anything that would aid in helping with the door. And after a few more seconds, he found it.
Wincing in pain from the heat, he grabbed the narrow piece of metal from the floor and just started swinging; hit after hit until he was finally able to smash the wood enough to get his hand through, and then with the rage taking over every cell in his body, he broke a portion of the door off; splintering his bare hands as he punched the remaining portion to the ground.
"It's okay guys, Daddy's here..." He tried to sound calm to them, but the damage was already done. Their mother was dead. They were both already traumatized from whatever this monster did to them, tied together inside the bathtub: John's arms braced tightly against his sister who was cruelly being muzzled by a large strip of tape over her tiny mouth. The worthless piece of shit duct taped the mouth of a baby so her cries wouldn't draw attention.
About to react, a cold piece of metal was shoved to his temple, the voice menacing as it snickered, "Yeah, kiddos, your daddy is here - the hero in all his glory."
"Let them go. You and I both know you want me." Gulping, his body went rigid, using his eyes to scan their surroundings.
Removing the gun from his head, Bob cackled, "You're very nieve, son. Then again, you always were. Definitely when you knocked up your girl out there, and actually believed that she loved you." Clicking his tongue, "You're not able to be loved. You're worthless. You always were." Drawing the gun up his arm, he leaned into his ear, "I didn't teach you enough I guess. And now you need a more... expansive... lesson..."
Blood on fire, his vision blurred into red, knowing that he had to fight tooth and nail and end this once and for all. He had to wrestle that gun away and put a bullet in his skull. No more games. No more carnage. It ended here. "Fine..." Ricky whimpered with a plea, "Do what you want to me... just let them go. They haven't done anything... get them to safety and you can have m-"
The cold metal lodged in his jaw again, harder, his father's hand keeping a firm grip as he snarled, "See, that would be too easy, wouldn't it? You can't keep playing the hero, boy. You're not one. You'll never be." Twisting the barrel, he pointed to the bathtub, a sickening glint in his eyes, "No, no. When I said more expansive lesson - I meant you and your boy here -"
The fire that burned every fiber of the teen's body now ran ice cold at hearing those words. All feeling leaving as he became a hollow shell. This man - his own flesh and blood - wanted him to inflict the same pain and trauma that he hellishly endured, on his own child? There were no other words he had to speak to convey what he was feeling, the bile creeping fast up his throat spoke all he needed to. Coming up with a vengeance, he expelled it from his lips onto the floor, gasping out between heaves, "You're sick -"
Another click of the monster's tongue, before a loud bang sounded, catapulting Ricky's focus now to the intense, guttural screams of his children; Emma's muffled shrieking so high in pitch his ears were physically starting to ring. He had no time to even gather his thoughts as another shot sounded, and Bob's face contorted with anger, "Next one goes into her head!"
The static was back, muffled but still persistent. He knew it all too well and used it to his advantage. Being roth so quickly he immediately started fighting, swiftly rocketing his elbow into any part of Bob's face it would reach, and gaining enough leverage to ram his back into the wall starting to burn from the flames on the other side of the drywall. Ricky growled at the pain in his body but kept going, ramming him repeatedly until he could gain enough footing to disarm him and take the upper hand. But before he could get his hand on the revolver, it went off again -
"Noooooo!" He screamed, thrashing violently, "No! Please, God, no! Stop!" Weeping brokenly, against the blackness, "Ahhhhhhh!"
Another shot rang out; the heat of the flames closing in around them; the screaming intensifying as well as the static."YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" He screamed, beating his father's body mercilessly against the burning wood just as another bang sounded and his body jolted: the heat now turning cold.
"Ricky!" Someone whispered through the static, an invisible touch against his arm steadying him before he hit the floor -
"Ahhhh!" He screamed again, shooting up in a panic; heart racing so fast it was hard to catch a breath, the static dissipating but not disappearing. He felt the touch again, but couldn't register where it was, eyes still closed in a mixture of desperation to shield himself from seeing the carnage around him and refusal to accept the fate bestowed on his family. If he didn't look, it wasn't there. It was all made up. None of it was real.
"Ricky!" The shouting was gone, now replaced with a whimper. Gasping for air, and without thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed the weapon from under the bed and pointed it screaming, "He's here! He's here!" Hearing an audible gasp, his eyes flew open and he saw the horror before him: Amy was standing there, pale as a ghost, her eyes like saucers.
He was starting to hyperventilate as she took a step slowly and managed to put her shaking hand on the barrel to lower it, her voice remaining steady and calm to not spook him until she was sure he wasn't going to pick the gun up again in a panic. "No, no it was just a nightmare, Ricky. You're okay, he's not here." Taking a seat on the bed very slowly, she managed to gently tug his hand down until the weapon landed on the cover, "You're safe..."
Realizing what he had done, he met her tear-filled eyes with his, brokenly stammering, "My- my babies -"
Grabbing his hand, she kissed his knuckles, "They're okay. They're sleeping in the bedroom. They're safe."
His hand went to his face, sobbing loudly into his palm, the sweat drenching his body and making his hair soaked and disheveled. "It was so real- h-he - and y-y-you -" Gulping for air, "y-you were - y-y-ou were dea-"
Without a second thought, she grabbed his head and brought it to her chest, holding back the tears brimming her eyes as he continued to weep. "Shhh, it's okay-" petting his hair like she did so often to their son when trying to comfort him, "You're okay, Ricky. You're okay. I'm right here, you're safe." Peppering soft kisses by his ears and squeezing him tighter, "Nobody is going to hurt you."
Taking in a shaky breath, Ricky pulled back and wiped his face with his hand, sniffling loudly, "I-I'm sorry for waking you..."
Stroking his cheek with her thumb, Amy brushed the tears from his jaw away, "Don't worry about that. I just want you to know you're safe." Glancing slowly over to the weapon lying on the comforter, she swallowed and closed her eyes, wanting to avoid seeing it but needing to know, "... where did you get the gun?"
"Doesn't matter." He sniffled, shaking his head
Her lips parted, "I beg to differ. You pulled a loaded weapon on me in this apartment that also houses our two children - it absolutely matters where it came from, and I want to know."
He looked down, pulling away and sighing, "It's Jack's, alright? I'm just borrowing it until -"
"Until you kill Bob?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, not wanting to believe the words she knew were true.
"What choice do I have? Huh?" He shot back, "My father might be released back into our lives in a matter of hours, and I have to be ready!"
"This isn't the way -"
"You don't understand!" He threw the covers back, running his hands over his face in agitation, "I told you - locked doors and pieces of paper won't do shit! This -" Picking up the gun, "This will ensure that you, John, and Emma, are safe!"
Clambering off the bed, "By you killing your father and going to jail? How would we be better for that?" She gripped the roots of her hair and took slow, deep, breaths, "You asked for your space - I gave it to you. I didn't like it, but I did it because I knew it was what you needed. I want to help you with whatever this is, whatever you're going through, but not like this..." Taking a step back, she lifted a discarded stuffed animal from their daughter's playpen, and brought it to her chest, her voice small, "You're scaring me... Ricky, you really are. Because we have a 3-year-old, and an 11-month-old who get into everything, and you're so distraught and enraged by this, that you brought a loaded weapon into our home -"
"It's safe, I have the -"
"It doesn't matter! You locking it away in a drawer doesn't make it safe! What part of this don't you comprehend? One wrong move... one curious inkling -"
He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "That's not going to hap -"
"You don't know that!" She shot back, throwing the toy back down as the anger started rising, "Turn on the news! It's full of stories where kids get ahold of guns that were 'safe' or 'put away' and bad things still happen!" Turning on her heel, she closed her eyes, "I don't want to tell you what to do, or how to feel, but..." Shaking her head repeatedly with a warning in her tone, "Either get rid of it completely, or I'm waking up our kids and going back to my dad's permanently until you figure out all of what you need to figure out..." Swallowing roughly, she turned to look at him - the look in his eyes slowly breaking her heart. "I don't want you to do something you can never take back in a moment of anger. You will get through this... I just wish you believed it as much as I believe in you."
Taking a moment, Ricky lowered his head and sniffled loudly before getting up, walking over to the bookshelf, and extending his arm as high as he possibly could to place the gun on the very top. Blowing a breath from his cheeks, his lip started to wobble, "... What am I going to do if he gets out, Amy?" Tears streaking and running down his cheeks, "H-how w-will I protect you and our kids?"
This was breaking her. Seeing him so distraught and broken, was causing her heart to physically ache for him. She hated seeing him in pain, especially pain he couldn't control and that wasn't caused by him or some stupid thing he did. This was a struggle not even she could make better, and it hurt her knowing it.
"Hey, listen to me - you don't always have to be the one to bear the brunt of everything, okay?" Lifting his chin with her fingers to look at her, Amy put her other hand on his cheek and held his face between her hands, kissing his forehead softly, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or our kids - let me bare some of the weight too." She felt his body start to relax just a hare, "And if that monster gets out, and comes anywhere near you, or me, or our babies... then I'll kill him with my bare hands..." Pulling back slightly, she brushed a few tears from his jaw with her thumb, whispering as the tears brimmed her eyes, "I'm done letting people ruin our happiness when we've fought like hell for it." He swallowed roughly, nodding slowly through a sniffle. Lowering her hands to his, she took his left hand and led him back to the bed, "Lie down - I know you haven't been sleeping for the last week, and the nightmares are getting worse..." He lowered his gaze in embarrassment as he climbed atop the sheets and tucked his hand under his head on the pillow, a nervousness to his usual calm breathing getting her attention. Grabbing the comforter, she gently slid it over him and crawled over him to the other side of the mattress. "It's okay, I'm right here... I'll be right here." She assured, taking her place on the pillow and wrapping her arm over his waist, "Just try to get some sleep..."
26 minutes later
"Ahhhhhh!" The scream shot through the dark, sending him thrashing and clawing at the blankets with audible whimpers.
Shooting awake, and grasping him tighter, "It's okay!" Waiting until he stopped jerking in his sleep to face her, "It's okay, I've got you." She kissed his head and stroked his hair, whispering against his skin, "Shhh, I've got you, you're okay."
"W-w-whyyy?" He blubbered helplessly into her collarbone, gripping her body tightly as he shook with sobs.
Seeing him like this was killing her. "It's okay, Ricky..."
After about a minute, Ricky sniffled a few times and loosened his grip, shaking his head while the tears slid down his face, "No - it's never going to be okay..." Taking a series of short labored breaths, he fought against himself; between needing to be open with her and wanting to shield her from the hell he endured. Her eyes were boring into him with so much worry and helplessness, it felt wrong to keep her from being able to be the anchor he desperately needed... but it also felt wrong to expect her to be that for him. With a rough gulp, his shaky hand gripped hers, a plea in his voice as he asked through a whisper, "Can I tell you something?"
Without hesitation, Amy nodded and leaned into him, listening to this man divulge all of the dark and twisted doings done to him by a man who called himself his father.
For several hours, she listened, gasped, whimpered, and cried in absolute horror that the sobbing man in front of her had to endure such evil by someone who was supposed to love and protect him.
All the beatings; All the nights of being locked inside rooms, cars, and panty cabinets to hide himself from being found and having to be subjected to cruel and heinous sexual abuse, his father tried to disguise as "lessons" on what it took to be a man.
The nauseating nights where the abuse would be so bad he begged to die because he had given up hope that it would ever stop; that anyone would ever save him.
Several hours of hearing such heartbreak spewing from his lips. And even that wasn't enough time for him to release everything; too overwhelmed by reliving it all to finish his life past 8 years old when he finally told someone at school what he was going through. After that, he couldn't continue, too distraught in his pain to make her suffer through hearing any more of his trauma.
"Oh my God..." She squeaked through a sob, clinging to him for dear life and refusing to let go, "I-I'm sorry, Ricky..." They were coming undone at the seams, now understanding everything about him: why he slept with so many women, why he had anger problems, why he always left to take walks to combat the anger or frustration he was feeling... and why he wouldn't give up on her and their family. "I'm so, so sorry..."
His breathing was starting to calm a bit, holding her tighter, and crying into her shoulder, "I don't - I don't want to be l-like h-h-him!"
The lump lodged in her throat was making it hard to speak, "Oh, Ric -"
He continued to shake in her embrace, sniveling against her neck, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this life with me, Amy... I shouldn't -"
Leaning back a little, she caught his tear-filled gaze and shook her head, "Hey... hey, baby, c'mere..." Placing her lips softly on his, and caressing his cheek, "You don't have to apologize for anything, okay? You're not him. You'll never be him. Don't you dare apologize for that, or anything else because nothing was your fault." Another kiss. "I'm here... I'm here with you, and our children - your children... you did that, Ricky. You broke the cycle by being a great and loving father to John and Emma. Be proud of that. Be proud to be the man you are - the one our son can look up to, and the one our daughter can learn what to look for." His eyes lifted to hers, his lip tipping up just the smallest bit. "... The man I fell in love with..." He smashed his lips on hers, fighting the all too familiar urges that were starting to creep up on him. Sensing he was wrestling with something, she put her hand on his chest, swiping the scar under his left eye with the pad of her thumb "I won't hurt you... I swear you'll never be hurt like that again." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss, this one more eager.
He moaned into her mouth before stilling her movements with a rushed breath, "... I love you, Amy..."
She smiled at his confession, running her fingers over the curls at the bottom of his neck, "I never stopped loving you." Kissing him again, she felt his body start to release some of the tension it was carrying. At first, he was hesitant to give in, but now he was reciprocating what she was offering him with need and precision, pawing at each other's bodies and clothes until they were just piles on the floor beneath them.
Her bra slid down her shoulders, giving his eyes full access to her full, taut, and voluptuous chest. He took a breath and bit his lip, reaching up to take her left breast into his hand, knowing it drove her crazy when his fingers rolled her nipples between them. And when she moaned loudly and leaned forward just a fraction, he took advantage and started sucking on the other breast, causing her to throw her head back with a low chant of his name.
Straddling him as he sat back against the cushions, she leaned over to the side of the bed and opened the drawer to the nightstand, retrieving a shiny purple square and ripping it open with the help of her teeth. Ricky's lips released a very low growl at the action, increasing when she slid his boxers down just enough to put it on him, but stilled her hand from sliding it on, "You don't have to stay... I'll understand if y-"
Giving him a little squeeze to cut him off from speaking, Amy slid the condom all the way down, "Shhh..." capturing his lower lip with her teeth before moving her lips to his jaw, and then his neck. Taking her time to mark every inch of his body - the body that endured bruises and cuts so deep they took weeks to scar over - with her lips, and her love for him. To show him he was safe with her and that he always would be; that sex shouldn't be something to dull pain or combat anger.
Reaching his pelvis, her nipples scrapped against his erection, causing it to twitch as she slid his boxers further down. The hand he had on her thigh helped pull down her light blue underwear and gave her enough leverage to kiss the scar just a hare above his right hip - where his father broke one of his action figures as a small child, and rammed it into his side; too defenseless to fight him off, he took the slice and tried to bandage himself up the best he could so nobody would see the blood seeping from the shirt. The wound he would forever carry was marked by a raised spot of pink flesh. "If it's too much, just tell me to stop, okay?" She brushed her thumb across it as she slid onto him slowly; inch by inch, feeling the stretch and the burn of him filling her completely; both sharing a deep moan of relief and ecstasy. His eyes flicked to hers, knowing she always needed a minute to adjust before they started. Running the bridge of his nose against her jaw with a rushed breath, his hips bucked when she started rocking on top of him; bodies moving together and then apart, taking and giving. Repeatedly and completely.
Her nails scraped against his skin with each bounce; throwing her head back with a deep moan at his left hand cupping her breast again and the gentle flicks to her nipples while his right hand palmed her butt, thrusting his hips quickly to meet her movements and drive himself deeper into her. "Ricky -" She coughed through a gasp when he shifted his weight and started to thrust harder, gripping her thighs, "Ohh - Uhn!" The hair fell into her face, shielding her intense lip bite as the sensations started to pull her under. His breath was hot against her neck, laying rushed, open mouthed kisses along her jaw, throat, and collarbone, needing more when she grabbed the back of his head and smashed her lips against his; ice and fire igniting in his veins.
With another hard thrust, he smirked against her mouth and trailed two fingers along her nipple and down to her pelvis, knowing she was close to her climax by the way her lips were starting to curve and her movements were increasing, as he dipped those fingers in the small space between them and coaxed her to the edge, swallowing her whimpered moans.
Grinding against him faster, she anchored one hand against the back of his neck, gripping his sweaty curls tightly in between her fingers, and the other on his chest, nails scraping the skin of his left pec as she struggled to hold on with his hips bucking hard and fast beneath her, pummeling her into mush as she tried to keep from screaming at the white-hot heat flooding her body; tremoring with pleasure so intense, she couldn't stop rocking against him to reach his own completion.
Watching the pleasure rocketing through her, a growl rumbled through his chest; needing every inch of her to consume him and drag him down into the frenzy of love and lust with her.
Moving his lips down, he gently bit her earlobe, caressing the soft skin of her back as she went limp in his arms, panting heavily against his shoulder.
Hearing her try to catch her breath, his lips twitched into a snarl. Putting his hands firmly on her hips, he gained the advantage and flipped her onto her back, pumping in and out of her with reckless abandon; reveling in her gasps and moans of pleasure when he raised both her legs to his shoulders, slid out until only his tip was inside, and then slammed back into her; swallowing her breath with his as their tongues dueled for dominance.
Those all too familiar urges to want to bury himself and his pain with harder thrusts and no direct eye contact, were starting to creep in again; threatening to push him back into that dark place he fought so hard to get out of. Shaking his head quickly in hopes that she didn't notice, he scolded himself internally at the thoughts invading his mind. This wasn't some random girl he would just bang until he felt satisfied and then leave, under him... This was the woman he gave his heart to and had children with. The one who saw through the mask he put on for the world. The one who loved him completely and truly for him.
This girl beneath him, pushing against his body while she struggled to keep quiet, wasn't just some girl he was having sex with. He was making love to this woman who held his heart and his soul, who he loved more than anyone else in the world.
"I - Oohh!" She panted loudly into the dark, breaking their kiss as her back arched and she fisted the sheets, creeping closer and closer to her finish... again.
His eyes were clouded, finding hers as his movements became faster, and his hands grabbed both of her breasts - squeezing, flicking, and sucking until her eyes started to roll back. He was so close, and wanted every nerve ending in her body stimulated by him; his body, his tongue, his touch, all of it completely engulfing all of her; pushing and pulling each other to the edge before his mouth shot open against her skin, and he spilled all of himself into the condom buried deep inside her.
She bit the skin of her palm, feeling so much at one time as the multiple orgasms shot through and consumed her. His thrusts became sloppy, having no more energy to keep going, or to remove his hands from her breasts as he collapsed on top of her, straining to regain breath.
Bodies still tangled together, she felt the tears he was struggling so hard to hold back, hit her skin, and heard the soft sniffle into her chest. Holding him, she traced a pattern into his back and stroked his head, expecting the tsunami of emotions that washed over and sent him into a spiral; unable to hold back the intense pain radiating in his chest as he sobbed against hers, "W-w-why?" Ricky sniffled roughly, "All the pain... all the damage he caused..." Lifting his head up just enough to meet her eyes - his shrouded by thick wet tears, voice hoarse from crying, "H-he w-was s-s-supoosed to l-love m-meee! W-Why d-didn't h-he just s-s-stoppp?"
Amy closed her eyes and held him tightly against her body, rubbing soothing circles across his skin as she choked, "Because he's a monster, Ricky... and monsters don't care. They take and they destroy without giving a damn about what - or who - is in their path." Kissing his head, "Bob's always going to be a monster, but you?" Craning her head back a little, she rested her forehead against his, whispering softly, "You're such a wonderful and caring man."
It took another several minutes until she felt a shift and he slid out of her slowly, moving out of the bed to dispose of the condom and put his boxers back on that littered the floor. She turned on her side, pulling the sheet up to cover herself when he crawled back into bed. But his silence, as he stared at the ceiling for almost a full minute, unblinking, told her that he needed some space.
Feeling her hand caress his bicep lovingly, he sighed deeply and swiped his thumb under his eye, "He can't get out, Amy... it'll - it'll destroy me..."
Propping up on her elbows, she moved her hand to his cheek, "Hey - listen to me... don't think about that right now, okay? Let's just focus on right now. And right now you need sleep." Running her fingers through the tops of his curls, and kissing his temple, "We'll deal with whatever life throws at us, together, when it comes."
He nodded through a rough swallow, a moment of panic arising from his chest at her removing herself from the bed. "Will you... Will you stay with me?" His voice came out barely above a whisper, extending his hand out to her as she fumbled to find her underwear in the dark. Once found and put back on, she slid into bed again, laying her head on his chest and humming softly against his skin. His heartbeat slowed to normal rhythm with each breath she took lying with him. Slowly moving his fingers across the skin of her back, he watched as her eyes fluttered closed, a smile coming across his lips at the way her soft snores rattled against his muscular frame. "... I'm going to make you my wife again, gorgeous... promise..." He whispered against her hair, leaning his chin atop her head and taking in the smell of her strawberry shampoo, "I love you so much, Amy..."
"Mommy?" He squeaked down the hallway, the blanket partially draped over him providing padding as he tiredly bumped into the wall.
Shooting up against the headboard at the noise of his son, his eyes flew up, "Oh hey - hey buddy, whatcha doin?"
John rubbed his eyes, mumbling, "Wh-ere mommy?"
Glancing quickly to the sheet that she was under, Ricky threw the covers over her, "I don't know..." scratching the stumble on his chin, "Did you check the bathroom? Maybe she's in the shower?" The boy shrugged and turned towards the hallway to check for his mother when a faint but audible sneeze caught his attention. Busted.
It wasn't that they were hiding anything from him, John knew he and Amy were affectionate with each other. They kissed and hugged all the time, but kept it to a respectful amount - not really being overly intimate with each other in case he started asking questions they really didn't know how to answer. And seeing them tangled in bed together, in a semi-state of undress, would raise all those questions in his head.
Before he could counter, the boy was racing towards the bed and tugged at the cover, exposing her mess of brown hair. His brow furrowed, pointing at him accusingly, "Mommy jus in you bed, daddy!"
Feigning shock, Ricky drummed his fingers against his lips, "Well how did she get in there?"
"You jus tak-ed mommy f-wom my r-oom!" John growled, tugging the rest of the cover down to see her face.
Amy bit her lip, clamping her arms down on the comforter to keep it from going any further down, giggling to appease the toddler, "Shame on you, Daddy." Reaching out, she scratched her nails against his dinosaur pajama shirt, "Daddy was having bad dreams again last night so I came in here to make him feel better."
Grabbing her hand, he stilled and clutched the blanket in his palm tighter, a worried look on his face as he asked, "W-as the b-ad dw-eams a-bout daddy's, daddy?"
Ricky's head snapped up immediately, eyes steeling at hearing his son's question, throat getting dry, "W-where did you hear that, buddy? About my daddy -"
"Twom..." John replied sadly, lowering his eyes so his parents wouldn't see him start to cry, "Twom jus say-ed daddy's daddy was a b-ad gwuy!" Unable to control his hiccups, he sniffled against the blanket, "He - He - He jus say-ed daddy's daddy w-was - w-was jus twy to h-wurt d-d-daddyyyy!"
Throwing the blanket to the side, Amy grabbed him and held him tight, kissing his head, "Oh, baby... it's okay. Daddy's not going to be hurt by anyone, okay?"
"Is - is the b-ad gwuy jus go-in h-hwurt me an Em-mmmaaa?" He coughed against her arm, digging his nails into her skin in fear. She winced but held him tighter, not knowing what exactly to say to calm his fears that she didn't hold the answers to- But he did.
She gave her boyfriend a look, and he nodded in silent agreement, slightly irritated and annoyed that Tom would divulge such sensitive and difficult information to a 3 year old. Taking a seat on the mattress, "No." Ricky whispered, stroking the hair by his son's ears, "No... never... My uh - my daddy... he's uh - he's a very mean mean man, yes... and he's in a cell for doing bad things... but you don't have to worry about it, okay? Because I will never let anyone hurt you, or your sister, or mommy. Ever." Brushing his hand over his face, he wiped the tears from his cheeks, his voice soft, "My daddy is a bad man... but me and grandma Nora are going to make sure that he doesn't get let out of that cell so he never has the opportunity to come near any of us, ever."
Clambering into his lap, John rested his head on his shoulder, sniffling into his neck, "W-w-what if he - he g-ets out?"
Resting her hand on his back to comfort him, "... Then I guess it's a good thing that you and Emma have a daddy who is like a superhero, huh? Who is going to protect you, and love you so much forever..." Amy smiled at him affectionately, her eyes filled with so much love and kindness it was overwhelming.
About to speak, the little arms braced around his neck tightly, squeezing with all their tiny might as he declared proudly, "I lov you, daddy... jus the bwest-est daddy in the h-ole w-id wor-ld!"
Ricky's lips pursed inward, hearing those words from his son causing him to get choked up as he put his hand to his back and cradled him against him, "I love you too, buddy. So, so much!"
Sniffling at the sight, she swiped a tear off her cheek with her thumb and petted the back of his shaggy dishwater blonde locks, just as the baby monitor on the nightstand let out a howling cry, "How about we go get ready while daddy makes us some breakfast?" With one more tight squeeze, he relented and scurried across the mattress, accepting his mother's invitation to be held with a toothy grin. Touching his shoulder as she rose to stand, she gave it a comforting squeeze, "Are you okay?"
Rising to stand, Ricky gave her a quick peck on the lips and nodded, sliding the fingers on his left hand against her palm, "Will you... be there with me?" Realizing what he was asking, he just as quickly lowered his gaze to his feet, "But if you don't want to -"
Brushing her lips against his for a brief moment, Amy grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips, her eyes soft, "We're in this together, remember?"
His lip tipped up, wrapping them both in his embrace, "I love you... you know that?"
Letting a smile curl onto her lips, she nodded before making their way towards the hallway, pulling the pajama shirt from the toddler's mouth while he giggled, "What's so funny, hmm?" He gave her a knowing look, accompanied by the same smirk he shared with his father as they met his irritable baby sister who was tossing toys out of her crib in protest. "Morning, peanut!" Their mother greeted cheerily, picking up the small stuffed lion, kissing her outstretched hand, and handing it back to her with a giggle.
Finding the scattered clothes on the floor, he pulled on his jeans and tugged a red dry-fit shirt over his head, the sound of someone knocking at the door getting his attention. Furrowing his brow, he took the three steps to the entryway and slowly turned the knob. "You're early," He sighed in relief, opening the door wider for his guest to step inside.
She shrugged at the statement, rubbing her arms with her palms at the slight chill in the air, her voice slightly strained, "Couldn't sleep"
Nodding, he took a step back, "Have you had breakfast?" She shook her head. Nodding again, "Sit down, I'm about to fix some pancakes." He moved to shut the door, just as someone collided with it.
"Oh!" They heard a gasp before they appeared. Sheepish smiles on both their faces.
"Hey." He spoke first, voice slightly rough, stuffing a hand into his pocket.
His eyes flicked up to them, not really knowing what to say. George wasn't his biggest fan as of late. "Yeah, hey -" Kathleen stepped from behind her husband, a smile on her face. "Thanks for the food, it was delicious Kathleen." Ricky greeted her, motioning with his hand for them to come inside.
Doing so, her smile widened, "Glad to hear it, there's plenty more in the refrigerator that you can have so it won't be sitting in there for the rest of the week"
His lip tipped up slightly, "I might take you up on that later." Shifting his bare feet against the floor, he lifted his index finger towards the hall, trying to ease the awkward tension in the air from George's eyes peering through him, "Amy's in the other room getting the kids read-"
Getting cut off by a loud clomp and then an excited squeal, "Gra-maaaa!"
His mother's face instantly lifted into a grin - something he hadn't seen in a week - when she saw them, holding out her hand for a high-five, which was instantly reciprocated, "Hey, buddy!" Nora tousled her grandson's hair and kissed his head before standing back up to admire the other grandchild waving and giving an excited squeal through her pacifier-plugged lips, "Hi, monkey!"
"How are you?" Kathleen touched her arm gently
"I uh - well, you know" She replied lowly, shrugging with a small sniffle
"We're here for you... both of you. Whatever you need." She stated, glancing between them with sympathetic look.
Swallowing roughly as the tears started brimming her eyes, "... just um - keep them safe, yeah?"
Talking a few steps towards the kitchen, Ricky grabbed the back of his neck with his hand, squeezing to relieve some tension, "Did you guys want to stay for breakfast, I was just about to make some pancakes?"
"No, thank you, we're fine." Kathleen shook her head, putting her hand on George's bicep, "We dropped by early to see if John and Emma would want to go shopping with us - well Grace and I - George isn't really the shopping type."
"But I can - if that will make you more comfortable..." George interjected quickly, meeting his eyes.
Kathleen looked over at Amy, "... If you want, we can take the kids to breakfast, or come back a little later?"
Shifting the squirmy baby to her other hip, Amy smiled, "That's so nice of you, thanks."
He stepped over to assist her, clasping his palms open and closed quickly before the eager infant catapulted into them and slapped his shoulder before headbutting into it - her new way of giving hugs. Everyone's eyes softened on them as he cradled his baby girl, "Yeah, that would be great, thanks. It'll give me time to grab a shower before..." The words trailed, not knowing how to say the next sentence without causing an onslaught of awkward silence and sympathetic staring.
Sensing what he wasn't saying, Amy cleared her throat quickly and swiped the hair from her eyes, "I um, I'll help you put them in the car?" Grabbing their son's hand and shaking it lightly, "Got your bag, buddy?"
John's head was low, focusing on his shoes, but the sniffles couldn't be contained as the hiccups followed, "Um... um is - is daddy g-go-in a-way a-a-ag-in?" He cried, pressing the tiny clenched fists into his eye sockets.
Sighing under his breath, Ricky put his hand to his shoulder, "C'mere," turning him around to face him. John lowered one of his fists, straining against his sobs to regain control of his breaths, and lifted it up towards him. With another sigh, he bent slightly to scoop him up into his other arm, laying his cheek against his shaggy locks, "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Whenever you get done having fun with Grandpa George and Grandma Kathleen, Mommy and I will be right here, okay?" The tot nodded slowly against the scruff of his father's chin, reaching his arm out to take his little sister's hand. His lip tipped up at the action, squeezing them both a little tighter as he whispered, "We're done being apart, John, I promise." Kissing both their heads, "I love you so much - All of you..." and giving an admiring glance to their mother who was watching them with an affectionate smile.
Holding them for another minute before handing them back to Amy to start their adventure of the day, he caught her hand and pecked her lips, causing her to blush, "I'll be right back," She pursed her lips inward, slightly embarrassed that her dad was standing right there, and shuffled them towards the door. Waiting until the door closed, he noticed the smirk pressing his mother's lips, "What?"
Gesturing with a nod of her head at the closed door, "What's that about?" He shrugged nonchalantly, raising his brow in question of her question. Reaching her hand out, Nora touched his bicep, "How are you doing today?"
Taking a few beats to answer, "Honestly?" Ricky sighed, blowing a breath from his cheeks, "... I don't know. I don't know how to feel really. Is there any specific way I'm supposed to feel about this?"
"No..." A soft voice spoke, her arms wrapping around his waist from behind, "You just feel what you want to feel."
Taking a calming deep breath with her body pressed against his back, his eyes caught his mother's smirk again, "What, now?"
Her eyes brightened, lip tipping up, "This -" Gesturing to the two of them, "You two - it makes me happy."
Laying her chin on his shoulder, Amy smiled sweetly at her ex-mother-in-law, "Me too..."
"Any weapons on you?" A tall dark-haired woman asked, holding out a small plastic tray. Knowing the routine, they all shook their heads and stepped to the left, "Place the items in the container and step through the detectors, please." Doing as instructed, one by one went their car keys, phones, and wallets, with Amy throwing in her jewelry as well.
Stepping up to the scanner and then over when the detector didn't beep, Nora touched his elbow gently and whispered, "You okay?" Nodding, he swallowed a little roughly and waited for his girlfriend, slipping his hand to the small of her back.
An officer put his hand in front of them, stating, "Sorry, only family is allowed."
Panicked that they were barring Amy from being there with him, Ricky cut his eyes to hers quickly and blurted out, "She's my wife."
The guard raised a brow, glanced over to the other guard on his right, and shrugged, opening the door and gesturing with his hand to step through.
Amy grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly, feeling the tension mounting in his body from stepping into, and seeing the room, "You can do this... I got you..."
For six minutes they sat in silence, waiting. The black plastic chairs they were all sitting in wedged tightly behind a tiny bench and one 6-foot rectangular table that housed 4 more black chairs. The room was a dingy shade of white, showcasing various water spots and stains of substances she didn't really care to know about. The walls alone were enough to burn her retinas if stared at too long.
He had his eyes closed, drumming his fingers softly against the denim of his black jeans, while her hand rested on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze every few minutes. Beside him, his mother nervously wrung her hands, refusing to put her eyes on anything but her shoes in fear that she'd look up and see him staring back at her.
A buzzer sounded and in walked 4 individuals, all straight-backed with serious looks on their faces, who took their seats at the table. Just as another buzzer sounded from the opposite end of the room they heard the sound of metal clinking together.
Immediately, Ricky's eyes opened and he tensed up, knowing the sounds of the metal were that of his father getting closer and closer to the room.
Amy felt his hand start to shake and put her hand to his cheek, willing his head to turn to look at her. His breathing was starting to labor, trying to conceal the scared little boy inside himself who just wanted to run away and hide. "Hey - I got you, Ricky. I got you." She spoke softly against his cheek, running her nails along the hair by his right ear, "Don't look at him - focus on me, okay?" His Adam's apple bobbed quickly as he nodded, taking in one more deep breath just as the door slammed closed.
A woman in a blue blazer stood up, "Mr. Underwood, we'll make this brief - you're up for parole, and this hearing is to determine whether you've proven yourself to be a productive member of society should you be released." She turned slowly, surveying the room, "We've invited your victims here today to share their statements as well," her heels clacking against the concrete floor, "Do you have any statement to make in this hearing?"
Shackles jiggled as he stood, "Yes, ma'am, I do." His words were slightly slurred, grabbing a sheet of paper from some low-life lawyer sitting next to him, "I was placed here, unfairly, due to lies. Lies my young song conjured up in his head to make me a monster. Lies that for years I've had to live with while being persecuted for." Bob swallowed, pausing for a brief second to conjure up some fake emotion, "I'm not a perfect man. I sure as hell was not the perfect father but I love my son... and I stand here before you today, in hopes that you'll see what a changed man I've become, and see that I've served my time for the lies of others... even became a man of faith... and allow me to be free to right the wrongs I've done and mend the fences of the people I've hurt."
There was another pause, but the sound of the metal across the floor sent Ricky's eyes up, and his breathing erratic; trying to fight it off as he gripped his shirt collar with his fingertips and took short gasps through his mouth at seeing the sadistic smile on his father's face. She clamped her hand on his knee, drawing a pattern into the denim with her fingernail to draw his attention to it. Doing just that, he followed her lead and traced over it, allowing himself to set his focus on trying to control the trigger. "Good, keep doing that. You're doing great." Her whisper of encouragement made his lip tip up just a hare before glancing over at his mother whose nails were bitten down to the quick.
The shackles stilled as Bob started speaking again, keeping his gaze solely on the corner of the room as he winked at one of the young women on the panel, "My son recently had two little ones - a boy and a girl - and I would like the opportunity to know my grandchildren... but I can't do that without your support of my release..."
The ringing was starting again hearing those words; hearing that he was using his children to garner sympathy from these people of power. He felt sick; bile rising fast up his throat and threatening to expel onto the floor.
A man in a gray sports coat tapped a pen against a Manila folder, "Thank you, Mr. Underwood, the board will take your statement into consideration." Turning back in his chair, and pointing towards them, "Ms. Underwood -"
"It's just Nora, please..." She responded lowly, keeping her focus on the paper in her hands.
The man nodded in understanding and put his hand up, "Alright, Nora - would you also like to make a statement to the board?"
She was wobbly, using her son's shoulder for balance as she stood, "I uh - I would... yes..." Clearing her throat, "I've spent the last week of my life, scared. Scared to leave my apartment in fear that this man - this man would use one of his sick tricks to find me..." She took a breath, eyes steeling as they slowly rose from the page, "But I'm done running. Done hiding. Done being scared of a coward who used me and abused me for years without a second thought. This man - he's nothing but a liar... and I'm done being caught up in them." A sniffle, "He broke me... I'm forever cracked by him and our hellish life... but unlike him, I've found true redemption -" Another sniffle, "Ive got my flaws, I wasn't a perfect mother... and I'll never truly forgive myself for not protecting my son when it mattered..." Glancing down at the teen and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "But unlike you, Bob... I can admit my faults and strive to change them... The best thing in the world for me is getting to be a part of my grandchildren's lives..." She sniffled again, swiping her cheek with her palm, "To witness my son, who has had to fight like hell his whole life, be the most attentive and loving father to his children... even after all the abuse he had to endure... to come out of it and be able to forgive me... that's the only redemption that counts." Lowering the paper, her lips pursed inward, taking in a deep inhale through her nose as she straightened her shoulders, looking over at her ex-husband, "But you'll never know that. You'll never know the sparkle in his eyes when he cradles his own son against his chest, or see the smile on his lips when he tells his daughter he loves her... you don't get to witness these moments because of what you did to your own son! They weren't lies that put you here, it was your own sick twisted actions that did!" Her voice boomed, pursing her lips inward to catch the tears rolling down her cheeks, "How can you stand here - looking at him - and deny all the pain and suffering you brought to our lives?" Bob glared at her from the chair he was sitting in, snarling and fiddling with the chains around his wrists. Nora swiped her cheek, composing herself to face the panel of eyes casting their sympathy, "You all have the power to ensure this man - this predator - isn't allowed to walk the streets where he can prey on more innocent children for his own sick desires..." Swallowing, as she slowly descended onto the chair, "...P-please... My grandchildren shouldn't have to live in fear because they are unfairly tied to this monster by blood."
The gentleman in the sports coat nodded as did the woman in the blazer, "Thank you, Nora." Handing a file folder to the man adjacent who was fixing his glasses against the bridge of his nose, "Is there anyone else who would like to speak?
The chains rattled as Bob stood up abruptly, and yelled out angerily, "You can't listen to this woman - she's a junkie and a whore!"
"Did you have more to add to your prior statement, Mr. Underwood?" Blazer woman questioned, narrowing her eyes at his behavior. He glared at the panel and shook his head, taking his lawyer's advice and sitting down, eyes lowered. She tapped a nail against the table, "Alright... well if there's nothing else we -" arching her back to stand up just as another voice broke through
"Wait -" The word left her lips quickly, not really giving a thought as to why. All eyes now staring directly at her, she swallowed and slowly rose from the chair, letting his hand fall from hers when she started speaking, "My husband had to endure hell from this man. Pure hell. From his own father - a man whose job it was to protect him... I've had to shelter myself and our two very small children because my husband has been so distraught about the possibility of his father being released and finding our son... because he knows what this man wants..." Taking a deep inhale through her nose, Amy clasped her hands to keep them from shaking and set her eyes directly on Bob; standing her ground with an edge to her tone, "How can you stand down there and say those things about being a changed man when you made your own child endure so much pain and trauma?" Another inhale, "I'll tell you why - because you're a monster. A cruel, evil, heartless monster. And it'll be a cold day in hell before you ever see my family. You'll never come near me, or my children, or my husband again. I won't let you." She spat, taking a step forward to get her point across as she pointed, "This man came to my house when I was pregnant with my son. I was 15, and scared, looking at potentially allowing our baby to be adopted because I didn't have the means to take care of him. Bob knew that. He preyed on it. He went to my home and tried to convince my parents that he would help with the baby because Ricky couldn't... only to have a plan set in motion to blackmail my husband into participating in an illegal adoption that would give him the money for MY baby!" Her eyes were angry, fueling her rage, "Do you know how that makes me feel as a mother? To know that a monster was preying on your child before he was even born, and has been plotting against him ever since?" Lip starting to wobble, "Do you know what it has been like to see the look on my son's face watching the father that he loves and adores - thrashing in his sleep plagued by horrific nightmares brought upon by this man's potential release? And worrying that he'll have a heart attack because he's shaking and sweating so badly in absolute terror?" Swiping the tears from her cheeks, "Bob wasn't placed in that cell because of a lie... he deserves to be there because he's the devil! What kind of man beats his wife and child until they're almost unconscious?" A tear slid down her jaw, taking a step back and putting her hand on her boyfriend's bicep, "Ricky was just a child, and you beat him and abused him mercilessly day after day after day until he begged to die! That's not a man! That's not even a human! How could you do that your own son? How could you go out and get so stoned and drunk that you got pleasure in forcing yourself on an innocent child every day for years until you almost destroyed him? And you stand before these people claiming you want to know your grandchildren when all the while you nearly killed your own blood!" Lowering her head, the brown locks fell into her face, shielding her eyes as they brimmed with thick tears, teeth gritted, "No... no I won't allow a vile piece of trash like yourself to tarnish the goodness of my children - Of your sons children! The children that he loves and adores and protects - because THAT is what a father does!" Swallowing again, rougher, it felt as if a golf ball was lodged in her throat, reaching for his hand that was visibly shaking from having to be in the same room as his father. Ricky could have spoken, stood up, and finished off the dragon sitting before them, once and for all, but she knew by the look in his tear-filled eyes, that that terrified little boy inside him, needed more time to heal, and that speaking would only allow that man to get pleasure out of seeing him be vulnerable. "You didn't break him, and he sure as hell will never be like you... Ricky is a better man than you'll ever hope to be, and while my children can't help who they share a bloodline with... I do not, for one second, regret who THEIR father is, because he is a good man. And you'll NEVER be able to take that from him. EVER."
"W-hy is th-at gwuy a chik-en?" He giggled with wide eyes, pointing towards the screen at Big Al parading across it
She chuckled at his response to the film, resting her palm on his arm to snuggle in closer against him, "Keep watching, buddy - it gets better."
Raising his head at his father and sister reentering the room, John pointed to the screen with a grin, "Daddy th-at gwuy is a chik-en!" Ricky raised a brow at him, depositing the baby on the mattress next to his girlfriend, and chuckled when she headbutted into her chest. "Look Em-ma! He jus a bwig chik-en!" Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap, shifting his container of goldfish away from her grabby hands.
His lip tipped up at the sight of their children immersed in the old Disney film about talking toys that Kathleen had dug out and given to them a couple of weeks prior. A loud vibration caught his attention, and redirected it to her phone buzzing off the nightstand. She waved her hand to ignore it, but upon his insistence, took it with a furrowed brow, "It's...Ethan?" Rising up slightly from her position on the bed, "Why would he call me?" He shrugged as she put the device to her ear, "Hello?"
"Where's Ricky?" His voice came out rushed with impatientce
"Um, right next to me... why?" Amy pursed her lips, angling the phone to rest against her shoulder
Ethan's breathing was labored, almost as if he was lifting something heavy when he asked, "Did you turn on the news?"
Her brow furrowed further, both confused and slightly concerned, "... We're watching Toy Story - why would we -" but a sharp knock on the door interrupted her sentence.
Now Ricky furrowed his brow, unknowing as to who would be at their door at almost the kid's bedtime, "I'll get it." Opening the aged wood, he saw his foster brother's face next to his mom's and immediately closed the door behind him.
"Where Daddy, go, Mommy?" John asked worriedly, feeding his sister a goldfish cracker in his hand.
About to ask her boyfriend's brother what was going on, the line went dead. She clicked her tongue, knowing that whatever was going on, wasn't good, but she didn't want to cause any concern to the children staring at her, so she sighed tiredly and stroked his hair, "Daddy just went outside for a minute, buddy. He'll be right back. Watch the funny chicken man, okay?"
Gulping back the panic in his voice, Ricky tried to keep from shaking, "What's going on - everything okay?" He asked his mother whose face was white as a ghost. Turning to him, the bile started rising in the pit of his stomach, not wanting to hear the dreaded words. "What's wrong - what happened?"
Ethan took a deep breath, "Turn on the news, there was a fight at the jail... a couple of inmates didn't make it..."
Not needing to hear him talk in circles, he shook his head with closed eyes, "Just spit it out, Ethan!"
"... He's gone, Ricky..." Nora muttered into the tense air, immediately grasping his shoulders to pull him into her embrace.
The wave of emotions rolled over him hard, sobbing with a mixture of hurt and joy; the monster who stole his childhood was dead. He couldn't hurt him, or anyone else, anymore. So why was he also feeling sad about this news? Why was he shedding even one tear for that vile piece of trash? Because as much as he hated him, and was glad he was gone, that was still his father. The same man who very very rarely - actually showed care towards him by telling him he loved him and leaving him alone by whispering it at his door.
No longer would he have to stay up all night making plans and calculating a life based on fear. He was free. They were free. A tiny whimper passed his lips, clutching onto his mother so tightly he was afraid he would break her.
"It's over, Ricky... it's all over..." She comforted, stroking the back of his head repeatedly at hearing his cries. Her tears soaked the sleeve of his shirt as she too cried against him.
Hoping their children didn't hear the barrage of crying that she did, Amy slowly maneuvered out of the bed and tapped their son's shoulder, "I'll be right back buddy - can you watch Emma for me?" Without looking up from the movie, he nodded and let his sister have another goldfish cracker.
With their children distracted, she quickly but quietly opened the door, her stomach getting tight upon seeing her ex-mother-in-law grasping onto him and sobbing. "No -" Was all she could say, shaking her head repeatedly with thick tears in her eyes because she knew the inevitable was about to be spoken.
Hearing his girlfriend start to fall apart behind him, Ricky quickly shifted focus and turned to face her. "It's over, Ames - it's all over." He sniffled roughly, swiping his hands across his cheeks, his voice barely above a cracked whisper, "He can't hurt us anymore."
"What?" She lifted her eyes to his red and puffy ones. He sniffled again, coughing to alleviate some of the discomfort in his throat.
Ethan spoke this time, keeping his eyes on his foster brother, "There was a fight at the prison... Bob didn't make it out..."
Her lips parted, not knowing what to say. Instead, she wrapped her arms tight around him, sniffling into his shoulder at all the emotions she knew were ravaging through him. He'd just been told he lost his father, and although Bob was a despicable, disgusting person, that man was still a part of him; regardless of how much he hated him, that was still his father; the man who had a hand in giving him life. And it hurt her to know he was hurting, even if he wouldn't fully show it. "It's okay... it's all going to be okay. I love you, and the kids love you, and everyone is here for you -" Amy kissed his neck repeatedly, running her hand up and down his back soothingly like they'd done to their children hundreds of times.
Surprisingly, he had no more tears left to shed, and hearing the woman he loved more than life itself say those words, gave him a sense of peace he hadn't felt since the night before when they made love together. "I know... thank you..." Ricky sniffled again, giving her a small smile before grabbing her hand and pressing it to his lips. He glanced at his mother, whose complexion had returned to normal and her lips held a smile seeing them together.
"I guess we should get back to them -" He motioned with his head at the door, "Before John finds my M and M stash and devours the whole bag!"
Putting her hand on the knob, she giggled, "Just as long as he doesn't find my Twizzlers!" It popped open, both of them catching their children in the act as the tot scooped up a handful of brightly colored chocolate candy into his mouth, while his sister squealed and threw what looked like a mixture of chewed up cheerios and M and Ms off the bed.
Lifting his eyes to see he was busted, they widened like saucers, quickly shoving the candy behind his back with an accusatory point at the baby with his mouth full, "Em-ma d-id it!"
"Daaaa!" He whined, rolling around the blanket draped inside the playpen, and fisting his left eye.
Raising a brow, he gave his son a stern look. He'd been at this for over an hour now, trying to settle the rowdy baby down so he could go to sleep. After Amy dropped him off to go on her date with Jimmy, he'd been like this - whiny and combative.
Shaking his head as the boy gripped the bar to pull himself up with a whimper, "Dada isn't going to take you out, buddy. It's time to go to bed." His lip puckered, outstretching his small hand before fisting his other eye. He stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest, "John needs to go to sleep, huh?"
5 minutes of soft hums over his playpen as he laid down, sucking his thumb, and he was finally out. Eyelashes fluttering slightly in dreams.
The sight of him so at peace, made him sigh in relief and smile at being able to soak in the bliss of having this tiny little person in his life.
"You okay?" She whispered against his shoulder, sneaking up behind him and wrapping her arms across his torso.
His lip tipped up, patting her elbow, "... watching him sleep as always brought me a sense of peace..." Leaning his head against the doorframe to admire the snoozing tot rolled up inside his blankets.
She smiled, nuzzling her nose into the side of his neck "Me too... I used to do it a lot when he was a baby - just stand by his crib and admire him"
Breaking free of her embrace, he turned on his heel to exit the room. Following, she touched his arm but was surprised when he spun back around to face her, pressing her back against the wall and pressing his face into the curve of her neck. "Have I told you that you're amazing and that I love you?" Ricky breathed gruffly, leaving little markings across her skin with his lips, before starting to creep lower down her chest. Her moan fueled him, "We never finished what you started earlier..." He trailed, slipping his hand under her shirt to cup her right breast.
Amy moaned again, putting her left hand on his chest, "My dad and Kathleen came back with the kids - what was I supposed to d-" He cut her off, kissing her passionately and breaking away at just the right moment that would leave her wanting more. Reciprocating his advances, she smirked and kissed him rougher, twisting his shirt in-between her fingers. With another softer moan, she broke away and stared into his eyes. "Are you going to be okay, Ricky?" She asked quietly, stroking the hair by his right ear gently
He swallowed, meeting those eyes that had him under their spell by just the bat of their lashes, "... Stay the night with me... Again?"
She bit her lip in thought, before nodding, "Okay" Accepting the kiss that made her toes curl, she giggled, "But just so you know... you lost the bet!"
Cocking a brow, he chuckled, "Technically we both lost - So?"
Raising her brow, her lips pursed inward, "So... how about a compromise?"
Taking a step back, he ran a hand through his hair, "Compromise? Does that mean I don't have to get my junk cut into then?"
"Your decision..." Her lips pursed again, drumming her fingers against them, "But I'm letting you know right now if you put another baby inside me -" Stepping aside from him to saunter into the living room, a playful yet seriousness in her tone, "I'm going back to that batting cage and grabbing that bat..."
Eyes enlarging, "Point taken." He grabbed her hand and smirked, "And what do I get for this?"
Clicking her tongue, "You mean besides me wearing a chastity belt if you 'forget' to wear a condom one more time?"
"Yeah, okay -" Ricky rolled his eyes, grabbing her other hand in his, his eyes softening as he asked, "... Move in with me?"
Now her eyes enlarged, mouth falling slightly agape, "Whoa, whoa - a little bit of a leap there, isn't it?"
"You said that about sleeping together, yet we still did it - what makes this any different?" Opening her mouth to rebuttal, the words never fell from her lips instead only a quiet huff. He cocked a brow, pressing his tongue to his cheek as he mocked, "Cat got your tongue?"
Scrunching her face at his antics, Amy poked his chest, "I'm not saying no... but let's just start out with me staying over all weekend and maybe a few nights during the week and see where it goes..."
Shrugging, "I'll take it." He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in for another kiss while also giving a squeeze to her backside that made her jolt with a giggle. When he did, he felt something crinkle in her back pocket. Pulling back, he cocked his head slightly, "You snuck my M and Ms when I put the baby to bed, didn't you?"
She gasped, unconvincing, at his accusation, "I would never!"
"Uh-huh -" Dropping his hands, he scoffed, "Well lucky for me... I know where you hide your Twizzlers!" Taking off towards the end table with a chuckle
"You better not -" She huffed after him, "There's only like 6 left!"
Fisting not one, but two of the strawberry-flavored candy, he tugged with his teeth and smirked wider at the horrified look on her face, "Yum!"
I'll see you soon friends... ;P