Just in case you forgot, Daddy=Dominic and Mommy=Cara.

Chapter 38:

Nineteen-year-old Dominic trudged through the large black double-doors of his house with a heavy sigh and repressed, pained grunts rumbling in his throat.

  He'd just gotten out of a fight—which he'd won, as always—with a small group of rowdy boys who'd done the fatal mistake of messing with Cara; they'd catcalled her as he'd been walking with her, his fingers interlaced with hers, and the mere moment he'd heard their voices a surge of anger drowned out the calmness of being around her. Dominic had braced himself to lash out at them and possibly break their jaws, but Cara had reminded him to ignore them.

Dominic had agreed.

Only until Cara left off to her house.

  That was when he'd directly gone storming through the streets beneath the looming darkness of the night, rounding corners and alleyways with wild eyes that searched frantically for the boys. And when he'd finally found them, he had them all tackled down and writhing on the cold pavement after the small brawl they'd had.

  And now, Dominic slowly forced himself to move up the marble staircase. He smiled to himself as he remembered it all: the pops and cracks of bones beneath his busted knuckles, the pained yelps and squeaks and grunts that had filled his ears after each punch he'd thrown—they were all so satisfying.

Dominic always felt a lot more relaxed after a proper fight he'd dissipate his anger through.

  He lumbered tiredly to the living room, because he'd let Lou sleep in his room for the night and he didn't want to wake him up. Besides, he'd scar him with the all wounds, especially the one running across his cheekbone.

And as soon as he flicked on the lights, a soft glow fell upon the room and lifted the darkness off the familiar burly figure standing in the middle, awaiting.

"Again? How many times should I tell you stop getting into fights!"

"They catcalled Cara," Dominic said with a nonchalant shrug, moving over to the couch. "I taught them a lesson for a lifetime."

"Well, guess what? I don't care about Cara, and I don't care about you." His father moved closer. "Do you know what I care about? So many people going around talking about how a business man like me has a stupid son like you who can't even control his anger! Everybody is talking about how many fights you've gotten into. Be a normal person for once and stay calm!"

"But that's not what people with anger issues do. I can't stop myself. I've tried. And failed".

"You don't have anger issues. You're just a spoiled, selfish brat. That's all you do, act like you can't control yourself. Attention seeker."

"Uh... no. I'm pretty sure I have anger issues. I'm honest with myself. Even my psychologist said that I need a psychiatrist now to prescribe some medicine." Dominic pursed his lips. "Sorry to break it down, but until I get all this shit done I'm probably not getting better."

"No. You don't want to get better. You're too spoiled to even try. I'm not about to pay for any psychiatrist or medicines or anything. Fix yourself on your own or find enough money to get them yourself, because guess what?" Standing right in front of Dominic, the older man jabbed a finger in his chest, his other hand grabbing him by the front of his clothes and pulling him closer. "You're not worth anything. I'm not about to spend another penny on a piece of shit like you. Stop acting, that will fix it."

  Dominic laughed, pushing him away. "Right. I'm acting like I can't control my anger because it's fun. It's not like I walk around scared more than the people around me; I'm scared that someone pisses me off the slightest bit and I go punching the hell out of them. Do you think that's cool? I hate that I can't control my anger. Why can't you understand how hard it is for me, you bastard!"

"Bastard? I'm the bastard here?" His father let out a low snort before grabbing the side of Dominic's head and pulling him closer. "You ungrateful piece of shit, what a brat." And he jammed his head into the shelf hanging against the wall just by his side. A strained, wretched cry of pain tore Dominic's throat. The pain dropped to his eyes, and an engulfing blackness closed onto his vision until he collapsed on his knees, groaning as he cradled his head and leant against the wall.

  When he opened his eyes after he'd subconsciously squeezed them shut, all he could see was a blurry, bouncy image of his father towering above him as he fiddled with his belt. And soon enough, the leather belt was off from around his waist and now held tightly in his hand from the very end as he pulled it far back beyond his shoulder. Soon it swung forwards, the heavy leather slamming onto Dominic's stomach, tearing open a jagged line.

  Dominic groaned and grunted loudly, his hand quickly flying over to hold the aching wound in his abdomen; the blood began soaking his fingers. But soon his father struck another lash onto the same place, and this time he'd managed to tear apart a wound across Dominic's hand as well.

  And then the flood of lashes went on; the belt kept swinging forwards, tearing his stomach and his hand when he'd even try to reach over and hold the wound, some whips even going by his face; one tore the skin just below his ear, and one traced the gash along his cheek. Dominic did his best to hide his face.

And it continued until someone came in, but neither noticed.

  Eight-year-old Lou slowly opened the door and edged closer, his amber eyes wide and frightened at the sound of the lashing belt and the sight of Dominic sprawled down in a bleeding heap. A part of him wanted to turn and run away, but another knew that he wasn't about to watch his brother suffer.

Lou came forward, his small hands trembling. "Dad... stop. Please. You're hurting him too much. P-Please?"

  The distinct sound of Lou's shaky voice was like a sting to Dominic's ears, bringing him out of the trance of pain momentarily as he whipped his head towards him. His heart dropped. He strained to form a sentence, a word, anything to make Lou get out of this. "Lou, no! Go! Get out, quick—"

  Dominic hadn't managed to warn Lou properly when the hard heel of his father's boot crashed onto his jaw, sending him down to the floor, crumpled and motionless.

"Luciano!" their father greeted as he kept balancing his boot on Dominic's jaw, his free hand gesturing Lou closer. "There's my youngest son! Do you want to watch your brother get whipped? That's how you teach liars and spoiled brats like him to behave and control their stupid anger! Take notes, son."

  Lou couldn't take his eyes off the heel of the boot digging into his older brother's skin; the pain that twisted Dominic's face and the way his fingertips blindly searched for the edge of the rug and squeezed it...It hurt. He couldn't watch. His entire being wasn't capable of standing there uselessly as Dominic suffered, and he didn't know what he had in mind until he was kneeling just by Dominic's side, his fingers curling around his father's ankle and tugging at it helplessly.

"Stop stepping on his face, Dad, please," Lou pleaded, his eyes welling with tears. "You're hurting him. I don't want him to be hurt, Dad. He's my brother."

"He deserves to be hurt, Luciano. Don't be an idiot like him. But I'll have to stop stepping now because the belt won't hit him on its own." The oldest man removed his boot off Dominic's face in a sudden jerk, purposely kicking his leg back and sending Lou fumbling aside, whining as the heel whacked him in the mouth.

A fire blazed in Dominic's eyes as he watched Lou clamp a hand against his mouth.

  And soon their father began striking Dominic's front with the belt again. Over and over, nonstop, void of mercy. Lou stood, watching, teary-eyed as it happened. His gaze followed the movement of the belt as it slammed and retreated, slammed and retreated, and between each single time he'd hear nothing more than grunts and whimpers and curses. He tried reason; he tried pleading and convincing him to stop, to have mercy on his brother. But it wasn't working, and now he had to protect Dominic with his own self.

"I said stop, Dad! I said stop!" Lou shouted this time, and he stomped forwards even as the belt was swinging. From the corner of his eye, Dominic saw him approach, and he panicked at the thought of him throwing himself in between and getting hurt.

"No!" Dominic protested, shaking his head frantically, but Lou didn't budge. "Lou, no! Don't! For the love of God you need to go! Get out!"

"I want to help you, Dom! I can't watch!"

  And like that, Lou dropped down by Dominic's side, leaning over him and hugging his face to his chest, trying to protect the most important part he could think of.

"Oh, Luciano? Do you want to try the belt too?"

"Dad stop!" Dominic shouted. The belt hit him again. He tried pushing Lou away, but the little boy was adamant on protecting him even as he cried. Dominic could feel his little chest as it racked with cries and quiet sobs  against his head. "Wait for Lou to go, then do whatever you want to me! Wait for him to go! He's going to get hurt—"

  It was Lou's sharp cry that cut Dominic off; the belt had swung onto his face, barely missing his eye as it slid right beneath it, an inch below his wet lower lashes where a wound now tore open and blood spluttered out, drizzling down his face and mixing with the tears on his cheeks. Lou stumbled back, away from Dominic.

  And the pain of the belt as it struck Dominic numbed for a few moments as he jerked his head up and watched the blood beneath Lou's eye; as he heard the cries and sharp breaths that ripped his lungs; as he stared at Lou's tiny hand holding the wound, his little trembling fingers now covered in blood.

  It was when Dominic's eyes connected with his dad's that he finally stopped whipping him; a certain fear gripped the older man as he watched the distinct anger creep up to his eyes, and when he looked at Lou still crying aside he suddenly realized he'd made a mistake. A big, big mistake.

  Dominic rose to his feet, his neck stiffly held in place as he glared at his dad until he was right by Lou. Holding Lou's chin gently, he assessed his wound that had been dangerously close to ripping out his right eye. And the longer he stared, the more the anger filled his veins. He snapped his head in his dad's direction with a robotically rigid move.

"It's alright, Lou, yeah? I'm here." Dominic's voice was soft and comforting as he addressed Lou, a stark contradiction against the anger flaring in his eyes. He kissed his temple, then held his hand and helped him to his feet. Lou cried, pushing himself into Dominic's side as he guided him to the bathroom.

  Dominic seated Lou on the counter, then rummaged through the cabinets and found a piece of cloth; he held it onto the wound, pressuring it then bringing Lou's hand up and guiding it into holding it in place instead.

"Lou, I want you to keep it on the wound and stay right here while I talk with dad a little, yeah?" Dominic said as he forced a small, comforting smile. "I'll be right back. I just need to teach him never to touch you again."

He turned, but Lou quickly held his wrist, tugging at it. "Dom, stay with me, please. If you go back he'll hit you again."

"No. He won't. Don't worry, just stay here, I'll be right back."

Dominic left Lou in the bathroom, locking the door on him from outside, then marched right back into the living room. His dad had been just trying to sneak out because he knew his son could become a monster at some points, but Dominic caught his upper arm and shoved him back inside before he ever managed to step past the threshold.

"You could've blinded him," Dominic said as he towered just in front of his dad, who stepped back, away from him. "The belt hit him right under his eye. Right under it. You could've ripped his eye out."

  The tension in him built up fast; his shoulders squared, his voice now a low hiss that could barely filter through his gritted teeth.

  Dominic fisted his hand, and his neck twitched strangely as a tight smile pulled his lips up. He knew he lost it; he knew whatever he was about to do was going to be purely driven by the anger of hurting Lou, and for once he was glad it was happening. He'd had enough of his dad's bullshit. "He's just eight. He doesn't deserve this." He took a step closer to his dad. "I told you don't ever mess with him. I told you don't ever involve him in this. But you didn't listen, and you hurt him, and now..."

  Dominic leant down and picked the belt, smiling as he watched the leather intently and let his fingers graze it to the very end.

Dominic held the belt high up, preparing to lash as his father cowered back. "This is for what you did to Lou. This is for you to learn never ever to mess with him again." And then he stared striking anywhere he could; the cries of pain and grunts from his dad fueled his desire to inflict pain on him.

And he continued whipping until his father could barely stand anymore, breathing heavily and holding the countless wounds.

Dominic dropped the belt, his own breath heavy and his eyes laced with crazed wildness. "But we're not done yet."

  His father was graced with only a moment to frown before his face was ambushed by Dominic's fist countless, countless times; he pummeled him incessantly. He punched him until his eye was surrounded with a livid ring of black and blue, until his lip was busted and until blood trickled from his nose. And then he moved lower and connected his fist with his stomach until his dad's breath was hitching in a ragged mess and all that could slip in between the strained breaths were helpless pleas to stop.

"D-Dominic... you're... you're insane. You're a monster."

"You made me a monster. You can do whatever you want to me, but not to Lou. You can punch me and I'll let you. But Lou, you can't do that to him." Dominic backed away as he watched his dad slump against the wall and slide down, holding his stomach and panting; he'd known how stronger his own son could be, and he fully regretted messing with his main trigger—Lou.

  Dominic looked around him, chest heaving. His eyes found the bottles of alcohol lined on the shelves across the wall, and he smiled to himself as his feet dragged slowly towards them. He reached up for one.

"You could've ruined his eyes." Dominic observed the bottle in his hand for a moment. He tilted his head. "You could've blinded him," he repeated to himself as he moved back a step and slammed the glass into the shelf. It shattered. His eyes skimmed the shrapnel strewn across the floor in a shining pool of sharp glass, and he picked a particular one with slicing, jagged edges up. "You gave him a scar under his eye. It'll need years to go."

Dominic laughed drunkenly as he watched the broken shard in his hand. "Now you deserve one."

"Dominic, y-you're insane. You need an.. asylum, not a psychiatrist. Don't—"

"Didn't you say I was just acting?"

Dominic swiped the shard across the skin right beneath his father's eye, the same place like Lou's wound, and watched as blood rose through the cut and started flooding out. A content sigh slipped from him as he heard pained whimpers. When Dominic looked at the bloodied shard, at what he'd done, an idea sparked in his mind. He leant forwards, lightly tracing the glass across his dad's throat. If he could do it, if he could kill him...

  He couldn't. He didn't want to. Not like this. Not now. He couldn't betray Cara. His hand trembled before he pulled the glass back, then slammed his fist in one final punch against his dad's nose. He slumped, unconscious.

  Dominic threw the shard and headed back to the bathroom, unlocking it and peeking in; Lou had left the cloth and was sitting with his knees gathered up to his chest as he cried, blood and tears on his cheeks.

"Dom..." Lou whispered as he saw him. "Your face is all blood... and your stomach."

  Dominic's tense shoulders dropped, and he slowly trudged in until he stood by Lou's knees, his arms extending forwards and pulling him to his chest.

  With one hand, Dominic pulled out his phone and called Cara, urgently asking her to come. And when he felt Lou calm down against him, he held his hand and helped him hop off the counter, then slowly guided him to the corridor, where he went for a quick visit to the bedroom and grabbed a jacket for himself to put over the torn dress shirt and one for Lou.

But as soon as he came back, he found Lou peeking into the living room, taking in the slump of his dad's body against the floor, the blood flooding from a wound just beneath his eye, much like his own.

And Lou knew, as the scene stamped itself in the deepest part of his memory, that he was never going to forget this night.

"No! Don't look!" Dominic quickly caught Lou's hand and pulled him away. He guided him down the staircase; each time his foot stepped onto the lower rung, he'd feel like the world would lurch forwards and his head would spin. He caught the railing and steadied himself, walking down with Lou until they were in the foyer, crystal chandelier hanging above them supplying enough soft light for them to put their shoes on and get the keys.

  Dominic opened the door and went out with Lou, slowly advancing out in the empty roads until he heard the soft hum of Cara's car in the distance, gradually speeding forwards from the far slope of the hill until it emerged on the horizon and progressed towards them with the bright headlights racing before it. She stopped just when she spotted them, quickly swerving the car aside and parking it.

  Cara stepped out and hurried towards them, a gasp tumbling from her plump lips and echoing through the silent night even before she fully made it towards them.

"What in the world happened!" Her eyes sprang indecisively from Lou to Dominic. Blood, gashes, exhaustion—they looked like they'd both been in a fight, which would be familiar for Dominic, but not Lou. "What happened to Lou?"

"Dad whipped him in the face. That asshole," Dominic spat as he guided Lou to the passenger seat. He placed him in, buckling him up safely before leaning in and kissing the top of his head. When he pulled back, he smiled at him as much as he could, but Lou never smiled back. "Lou, you're going to go with Cara, and then I'll come when I finish a little thing yeah?"

"Come with me, Dom. Please."

"Lou you have to trust me. I'll come in just a little."

"But..." Lou remembered there was no negotiation with Dominic. "Please come quick." Lou pouted, but him and he knew he'd come if he said so. He blinked back the tears as Dominic shut the door.

"Cara," Dominic called, moving towards her. "Take Lou to the beach house. I'll come when I finish some business."

"Dom, what happened? Did you do something to your dad?" She held his chin, her thumb edging it upward until he looked her in the eyes.

"I lost it," Dominic confessed, voice strained. "I whipped him. I gave him the same wound he gave Lou. I poured alcohol in his eyes. I punched him until he fainted. I didn't know what I was doing... I couldn't control it, Cara. And do you know what's the worst thing? I usually regret what I do when I'm angry. But I don't regret it now, Cara. I'm happy with what I did. I'm content. And I can't stop feeling that. That's not normal, is it? I'm.. I'm not sane. He's right."

"No. Of course you're not sane. It's because of the people around you. But I'm going to take you away from everyone here, yeah? Remember our plan. We'll get married and live alone with our children and Lou someday. We'll adopt kids with bad fathers like yours. They say people with the same pain understand each other, right?"

  Cara knew the control she had on him; she knew from the way she'd feel the tension melt the mere moment she'd touch him, she knew from the way he'd calm down when she'd hold his hand; from the way one look she'd cast towards him would make the monster in him fail to the authority in her eyes.

She knew everything. And she used it, maybe.

  Dominic chuckled quietly at the thought of this pure bliss; he couldn't imagine a time like this where he'd live happy with his wife, brother, and kids. "I don't think I'll live enough to get there. When was the last time we were genuinely happy? When we were kids?"

"No. That was worse than now." Cara thought for a moment. "Maybe when we were babies. We weren't aware. We didn't know anything. That's when you're only truly happy."

  They laughed to themselves at the thought.

"Now take Lou and go, Cara. I need to talk to dad. This needs to settle."

"No. Come with us, Dom. Look at yourself. Let's get you cleaned up. You're going to kill him if you talk to him one more time. If you kill him, you'll ruin everything. Just leave him and come."

Dominic shook his head. "No. I said. I need to talk to him. For us, Cara, I promise."

  Cara tried again but came to no avail; she had to surrender at one point after some pointless persuasion and leave, her heart racing with worry over what he'd do during this state. He could ruin her plan, destroy her dreams. But she also knew he'd lose it if she'd stop him.

Dominic watched her climb into the car and leave. He kept staring until they were out of sight. He looked back at his house, where his father was lying unconscious.

He walked towards it. He needed to. Cara would be proud if she knew, she'd have to be. He entered the house, going back to where he left his father.

Dominic just wanted to have a little talk with him. Maybe a little threat. Maybe something more. It depended on cooperation. "For us," he mumbled.

*_*_*_*_*

  Lou absently trailed his finger just below his eye; he felt like his fingertip was passing through a pool of blood even though there wasn't any, felt like there was an open wound even though it had closed long ago, and even the scar left behind had paled with the passing years until it was hardly even visible. Lou could still imagine the very moment the leather slammed into him, and he could still remember the lunacy in his brother's eyes. He could still remember every second and moment of that night like it hadn't happened over ten years ago.

"Um, hello?" Aaron waved his hand in front of Lou. "You've been like that for a while."

Lou shook his head. "Yeah, sorry, I was thinking about something. Never mind."

Neither talked for the next few minutes, and Aaron's mind drifted. "You know what's weird?" Aaron said. "I hate you, but at the same time, I don't hate you. And I'm not sure that makes sense."

"Hate me? Yeah, no shit. You wanted to punch me in the face with a punching glove. You sure as hell hate me." Lou chuckled to himself. "I know what you mean. And it does make sense to me. You don't need to explain it. I know what you mean and what you're feeling."

Aaron nodded. "It's sad that you'd make a good uncle if you just... weren't involved in this psychotic kidnapping shit. But you are, and it's wrong, Lou. It needs to stop. You need help."

"Yeah. I realized." Lou sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. When he talked again, his voice was a low mumble. "I wish I never- I wish..."

"What—" Aaron was cut short when Leo began frantically patting his knee for attention from where he sat down by the coffee table in front of the couch; he'd woken up from the few minutes of rest and had slipped down, propping his elbows against the table as he'd turned the TV on and watched. "What is it, Leo?"

"Aar, look!" Leo pointed at the flashing screen. "Carly! My girl. I love her."

  Aaron laughed as Leo turned again and continued watching. He looked so enraptured, so innocently in love with nothing more than a fictional character. When Leo got up and started walking towards the screen, Aaron frowned.

"What are you doing?"

Leo craned his neck, looking back at Aaron for permission. "Can I kiss her, Aar?"

Aaron raised his eyebrows for a moment. Then he nodded, deciding to humor him. "On the cheek, though. Nowhere else. You're too young."

  Smiling, Leo walked over and waited patiently by the TV until she turned to the side;  as soon as the wide expanse of her cheek was towards him, Leo leant forwards to give it a quick peck, but at that instant she faced forward again and it was too late. Lips to lips.

Leo gasped and jerked back. A pink tint spread across his cheek fast like a virus. He turned to Aaron, stiff and strained, hand cupped against his mouth and eyes wide like he'd done the unspeakable.

"Aar, I kissed her mouth!" The worried expression on Leo's face was almost amusing. "Didn't mean to, Aar. She- She turned and—"

"Leo, it's okay, I know you didn't mean to." Aaron gestured him over. He'd laugh but the way Leo looked genuinely concerned was a bit distracting, maybe a little saddening.

Leo clambered onto the couch and snuggled into Aaron's side, face hidden against his shoulder. "That's not good. Mouth kisses aren't good," he mumbled, more like an apprehensive afterthought.

Lou gave Leo a glimpse. Aaron pushed his caramel hair off his forehead and watched the flustered crimson along his cheekbone. When Leo finally looked at him through his lashes, brows low and blue eyes miserable, Aaron knew there was something more about this. Something like a memory brought back, was it—?

Lou tried to change the subject when he noticed Aaron looking into it. "I love that he's still blushing. He's just shy like that."

"Yeah." Aaron didn't want to press the matter. Last time he'd done that it'd ended with nightmares for Leo. "I don't blame him. I used to blush when Erika kissed me like an idiot."

Lou cleared his throat and nudged Aaron in the ribs. "Slipping with the info there? Anything I wouldn't approve of happened between you two—"

"It was on the cheek, Lou." Aaron shook his head at him amusedly. "Nothing happened. We were just friends."

"Alright. Whatever you say." Lou pushed himself up to his feet. "I'm going to check on... what's happening out there. Keep Leo here, don't let him go out." He walked towards the door and opened it, then disappeared into the corridor.

  Leo was still snuggled up against Aaron's shoulder, but the flaring pink that had exploded across his cheeks was slowly beginning to melt away. Leo looked up after a while, smiling innocently before returning to watching the show. And it stayed like that for a while; both just watching silently, neither speaking, the only noises they'd emit the shifting of their bodies against the couch. But that was until Leo finally spoke.

"Aar?" he asked unsurely. Aaron hummed questioningly, turning to look at him. Leo hesitated for a moment before speaking; his voice was low and uncertain, like he wasn't quite sure how well Aaron would take his question. "You never talk about your mom. Where was she when your dad did all the bad stuff to you. Is she dead?"

Aaron felt his chest constrict slightly at the mention of her. He prepared to drop a brief explanation, because he didn't like talking about it. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Leo interrupted, throwing a guess of his own.

"Or did you kill your mom too, Aar?"

"Leo, no. You didn't kill her. Nor did I. Please just stop thinking you killed her." Aaron watched as Leo just stared blankly for a moment before nodding slowly; the movement of his neck, although displaying his agree with Aaron, still contradicted the look in his eyes that were wide and far from approving that he hadn't killed her—it looked like he just wanted to spring past that part, and return to Aaron's mom instead. "My mom and dad got divorced when I was young. It means they were married, and they didn't want to be married anymore. Long story short; at first I went with my mom but then shit happened and she sent me back to dad."  Dad is probably telling everyone that I traveled to visit my mom, he thought. Perfect excuse.

Aaron heaved in a breath, his shoulders lifting and dropping faintly before he let out a bitter chuckle. "And clearly, dad did not want me back with him."

Leo just looked at him silently for a moment before reaching out to pat Aaron's shoulder. "It's okay, Aar. My dad didn't want me either."

"That's what makes us brothers I guess."

They laughed quietly, but they both knew that it was nothing to laugh about. And they knew, that they only chuckled so they'd drown out the sound of their hearts as they wept in their chests.

*_*_*_*_*_*

The days had passed by torturously slow.

Aaron had counted everyday, and now he realized he was less than a week away from accomplishing the horrible milestone of having been kidnapped for a month.

  Nothing significant happened that week; mostly, it had been filled with dread, unease, and tension. Aaron still stood his ground and hadn't agreed to contribute in their fantasies—he still refused to wear the pull-up or do anything other than sit silently. Lou had helped him with that.

  At that point, Lou had fully realized something. He loved his nephew just the way he was; a teenager, and he didn't need to be a baby so he'd treat him properly. Daddy had gone back to his medicines and had been trying to remain distant until he'd regain his control, and Mommy had been keeping him away from Aaron and mostly dwelling in the sadness of how repulsed her own baby was from her.

Things had been calm.

Until everything suddenly went spiraling downhill.

  Now, it was still early morning, and the house was silent; Lou was with the boys in the living room, and Daddy was just aimlessly pacing around the corridor, calculating what he had to do next when the front door flung open.

Mommy barged in, her chest heaving and her green eyes dark with shock.

"Cara?" Daddy asked as he turned to her impetuously, alarmed by her frightened state. He felt his own heart quake even though she hadn't spoken a word, and he braced himself for the worst because he knew she'd never panic unless there was something deserving of it. "What is it?"

"Dominic, we have a huge problem," she quickly rambled on, and her words were almost indistinct with fearful haste. "We need to do something quick—"

"What happened!"

"There are police cars around the outer woods. They're coming for us."

  Daddy recoiled; he felt the strength in his legs drain out until he stumbled back a step. How the hell, he thought. But he gathered himself, holding a hand to the wall for stability as his eyes rapidly sprang around and panicky breaths slipped from his lips.

"Dominic, what should we do? They're going to find us! They're all over. They'll need some time to get here, but we still have to act fast or—"

"Calm down!" Daddy shouted as he gathered his scattered senses again; as much as he dreaded what he'd planned long ago for a case like this, now it was the only choice left. He breathed out nervously, then looked Mommy straight in the eyes; the determination was clear, and not a particle of amusement present. "We're not about to run away. We have nowhere to go. We either all live together peacefully, with nothing chasing us and nothing to run from, or we all die together."

"Dominic... no. You're not serious, are you?"

"Oh, I'm dead serious. We're going to kill Aaron and Leo and then we'll kill ourselves. Now let's get to it."

*_*_*_*_*

(dom wasn't joking when he said he'd kill aaron lol)

hope you enjoyed the flashback! I'm aware it doesn't explain everything, especially about cara, but that's why there's a prequel. The "for us" part will also be explained in the prequel.

This is the second freaking time i forget today is update day lol tf is wrong with me. Anyways thank you for reading/voting/commenting <333 i'm so sorry about typos! My eyes are burning i need to sleep so i'll edit more thoroughly soon.