Domestic Violets

 

Author: Six


Rating: R


Summary: Nick and a domestic violence case



^^^^



Midnight…

A woman's scream--"Jake, no!"

--breaking glass--

--busting furniture--

--thumping walls--

A youngster's voice: "No, Daddy!"

Next-door-neighbors' lights coming on--"What the-Maggie! Call the
damn police! It's the Robinsons again!"

--"Jake, no!"

Drunken bellows:

"Fucking whore!--slut--bitch--"

"Jake, please! No more! Keep away!"

"Mommy!"

"Come back here, bitch!"

"Daddy, no!"

"Please help me! Somebody!"

A slap.

A kick.

A moan.

Running pajama feet.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

"Runt!"

"Daddy, please stop! You're hurting her!"

Sirens.

Wailing.

On the way.

Almost here.

"Jake, stay away! Please!"

Galloping up the stairs. Three sets of feet.

"Bitch!"

"Ow! You're hurting me! Stop!"

"Make me!"

"Please!"

"I'll kill you!"

"Jake, stop!"

Cop lights in the windows. House washed in revolving red.

Banging at the front door.

"Robinson! Open up! Police!"

"Jake, please! No!"

"I told you, woman! No more whoring!"

Slap.

Kick.

Sobs.

Garbled cries.

"I'm not, Jake. I'm not. You have to believe me. I love you. Please.
I love you. Stay back."

Stampeding up the stairs. Pounding shoes.

"Robinson!"

"Daddy!"

"Stop, Jake! Stop. Please. Stop. Stop. Stop--"

Gunshot blast.

Silence.

Silence.

Sobbing.

Panting.

Tears.

The uniforms entered the dark bedroom with their guns drawn.

Female sobbing.

A woman. A child.

One cop turned the light on, casting the room in bright, true colors.

The walls and ceiling were sprayed in red. High-velocity impact
spatter.

Brain. Bone.

Routine.

The uniforms had seen it before, but never at the hands of a five-
year-old, who sat huddled in pajama feet beneath her mommy's
sheltering wing, the big man-pistol still in her lap, gunpowder
residue on her pudgy hands.

Her father lay dead on the floor, blood soaking the carpet from
where his head had been attached to his shoulders.
More weeping.

Mother and child held each other in a Madonna embrace.

^^^^

Noon. The next day…

The homosexual entertainer could afford the best, so the three of
them agreed to meet at his favorite restaurant to discuss how he
would gain custody of the child he and his lover had raised since
birth.

"It'll be dirty," Burton said cutting into his steak.

The entertainer pushed his spectacles up on his pug nose with a ruby-
weighted finger. "I don't care."

Nick picked up his water glass. "It'll all come out."

"I said I don't-"

Like a bull in a china shop, Al muscled himself through the elegant
tables and planted one hand on the table next to Nick's delicate
dinner plate.

The entertainer reached inside his breast pocket for an autograph
pen, but Al never noticed.

"We got an emergency custody hearing, Nick."

Burton quickly dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "You always have an
emergency custody hearing."

Al leaned over to Nick's ear and whispered, then Nick glanced an
apology at the diamond-spangled showman as he rose from the table.

Burton pushed the heel of his hand back through his hair, taking a
breath before take-off.

"I know how important it is," Nick replied to the gesture.
He looked at the client again. "My father will take excellent care
of you, Mr. Carrington."

Before the entertainer could remark, Nick was following Al toward
the door.

THE END