Family Ties (Rewritten)

The Elevator

⚠️ Warning: This chapter contains sexual violence. Reader discretion is advised. ⚠️

Vincent:

The walls were closing in around me.  They were the only things I had to look at now, to confide in when my emotions ran high from being locked in this bland prison for two long weeks.  The only time I was let out was to use the bathroom.  My meals were brought to me in here.  My meds were taken here.  I wasn't even allowed to see my psychologist.  This was my life now, isolation.

I thought that's what I wanted, but my primal need for human contact was overwhelming.  The only person I saw was Doctor Greer, and all he ever did was tell me how much fun it was for him to watch me rot in here.  Oh, what I wouldn't give to put an end to his miserable life once and for all.

The door to my padded cell opened.  I expected to see the evil doctor, but it was Earl.  "Your time in here is up, Graves.  Let's get you out of here."

"Why?"

I don't know why I questioned it. I should have been happy, but in this place, nothing is free.

"Greer wants to put another patient in here."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that."

I walked over to him, allowing him to take hold of my arm as escorted me back to my room.  There were a few people staring at me as I came out of the hellish cell, most of them with pity in their eyes.

The last thing I wanted was to be pitied. Part of me knew that I deserved everything I was getting after what Emily had to endure at my hands, but I also knew I would never be cured in this place.

There was too much evil in these walls.

The only thing that kept me going was thinking about my little girl.  I imagined that she was as beautiful and smart as her mother. 

How glorious it would be when I was free of this place and part of her life!  I hated to think about how hard it must be for her to live without a father.

What if Emily hadn't told her about me?

Or worse, what if she told her that I was a monster?

My teeth clenched at the thought.

That bitch better not be poisoning her mind, or there would be hell to pay when I got out of here.

"Earl," I said, as he pushed open the door to my room, "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure," He showed me to my bed and fluffed my pillow for me. "It's a free country."

"What's it like being a father?"

His lips pursed together.

"Come on, Earl.  Tell me."

"It's very rewarding."

"Is it difficult? I mean, do you ever worry that your kids might grow up to be bad people ?"

That got a small chuckle out of him, though it was obvious he was uncomfortable. "No, I don't. They have a wonderful mother and a strict father."

My eyes averted from his. "Having a strict father isn't always a good thing. Believe me, I know."

"There's a difference between being strict and being abusive, Graves. I would never hit my children."

"I know that, but-"

"Change the subject, would you, Graves?"

"Why?"