would she say that?
“Excuse me? Can you repeat that, Mia?” one of the detectives asks gently.
“Repeat… why should she repeat?” Nathan stutters nervously, then he notices how Mia is trembling and chooses to raise his fucking voice at her. “She isn’t saying anything that’s true!”
Mia clamps her mouth shut, alarming fear in her eyes, she looks down, avoiding Nathan’s crazed gaze.
“Control yourself, Mr. Montague!” the detective says to him, now standing closer, watches him closely with a suspicious gaze.
I see Nicky’s face grow pale, standing stock still as she holds Mia. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do this now.”
“No, we have to!” Mia cries now. “He’s a bad man.”
“Mia, can you explain what you mean?” the other detective asks softly. “How did he try to sell you?”
For a second, Mia is silent and then she starts to speak, a haunted look in her eyes.
“I came back from school one afternoon and my mother was screaming and crying. I could hear plates and glasses shattering from a room.”
“Stop lying!”
“No, I’m not lying I want my mom!” Mia cries like a little girl, tears streaming down her face as she makes herself curl into a small, shivering mess under the thin sheets. But it’s the torment in her voice that rings clear in the room. “I remember mommy was sick. She was begging you for money to go to the hospital, but you refused, calling her mean, vulgar names and you were beating her to so bad, especially when she accused you of losing her money somewhere.”
There’s a loud fucking silence in the room.
No one utters a word, but all I want to do is hold Mia in my arms. It’s killing me that I fucking can’t.
“Mia, sweetheart,” Nicky starts, her voice raw and shaky. “You’ve just woken up, baby girl. Maybe you need to let the doctors examine you first, before talking to—”
“But… but Auntie, I have to tell them. They can find mommy and help her. Help you,” Mia whispers sadly, then she looks at the detectives. “Please help my mommy and auntie, Mr. Officer, please.”
She uses a voice so small that sheds a light on her inner anguish that for a moment, even the detectives and doctor look stunned and sympathetic at her.
“Please,” she repeats, looking around the room at anyone, but at me. She’s effectively shutting me out.
“We’re here to help,” one of the detectives assures, then with a look to the doctor, he goes on. “If it isn’t too much for you, can you tell us, is there anything else you can remember of this incident?”
Mia nods mutely, briefly glancing at Nicky.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nathan snaps, fidgeting in front of the cop. “Are you going to actually do this?”
“Sor, please shut up or I’ll ask you to leave.”
“No, I want to hear what she has to say.”
“No, you want to threaten her to keep her mouth shut about what you did, you piece of shit!” Dad seethes behind me. He’s obviously losing his temper now, hearing what his brother has done in the dark where no one was the wiser.
“This is your fault!” Nathan shouts, pointing at my dad, then at me.
“Mr. Montague, this is your last warning,” the detective says. Nathan falls silent, his face is puffy and red, as if he’s going to blow at any second.
Yes, you’re about to het fucked, you motherfucker.
“Please, do go on. What else do you recall?”
“I remember I could hear the sound of flesh being beaten up. I ran to help my mom only to see my aunt crying on the floor, my mom fighting, begging… begging him not to…”
When she trails off again, I hear the truth in the words.
“Begging him to…”
Mia mutely shakes her head as Nathan’s breathing becomes loud, almost crazed and out of control.
It’s in that moment that I realize I don’t really know much about Mia’s past.
She never volunteered anything, and honestly, I never asked.
I didn’t want the reciprocity of that torture inquisition, scared of what she might find, but now as she refuses to look at me, her battered and bruised face pale as she cries, I can’t help but torture myself some more.
Is it fucking possible that maybe she thought the same of me? That I’d judge her past when it was so clearly out of her control and not her fault? With my luck, and her devious nature, it’s highly likely, which only reinforces one thing.
She belongs to me.
Fuck this all to hell.
“Miss. Montague?” the detective prompts.
“Do you know where