Unholy Love

Chapter Twenty-Four

I nearly drop the tea right there on the spot. I can't believe my eyes. My dad's entire right side of his ribs were covered in purple and green swollen patches. I can feel tears lining up on my lower eyelids. How did this even happen to him? My dad's suffering brings my chest into a big ache and I drop down to my knees unable to hold myself up any longer.

My dad rushes over to my side after quickly slipping into a shirt, bowing down to my level without a wince of pain scattering his eyes.

"Daddy, W-what happened to you?" is all I manage to get out of my mouth as my lips trembled in fear of realising that someone tried to torture my dad.

"It's okay baby girl, I'm okay, it's just the harsh reality of prison life," he tells me while his hand runs through the strands of my hair trying to soothe me.

For fuck sake, why is my dad the one soothing me? I should be the one doing this to him.

I stand and reach out my other hand to help up my dad, guiding us over to his bed.

Once we are seated, I grab a hold of his hands and squeeze them. My dad looks so venerable right now. His face wrinkled in worry and eyes looing away from me.

"Dad, tell me what happened?" I ask him softly. I can only hope he looks at me when he tells me what happened.

"It's very simple Anna, someone have it out for me in prison when they somehow found out what I is in for and they took it out on me, they tried to pull me in a high security cell thing but it's just complete isolation. I nearly went insane being surrounded by no one. Eating all alone."

"I'm so sorry," I say.

I have heard of instances when some inmates can get violent with others, but I never thought this would happen to my dad. It pains me.

"Why didn't you tell me about it before?"

My dad shifts his body so that he is facing me. He released his hands from my clasp and ruffles his fingers through the shoulder length white hairs.

"I didn't want you to worry, we both have been through so much and what you saw as a child traumatised you, it isn't until Damien came into your life that I noticed you stopped talking about your nightmares bothering you the way they used to. Anna, listen to me sweetheart, you are not the only one that feels so incredibly guilty. I hold my own share of sins."

My days words strike right through me. Sins? From what I am aware of my father is the most saint person I know. Not even my mother is as kind-hearted as my dad, whenever she wants to be that is.

I'd struggle to see my dad in a way that he views himself. Yes, he took blame for me, but he shouldn't be the one to feel guilty, or am I wrong?

"Dad you aren't guilty for anything but taking the blame for me, I is a child I doubt they would've done anything with me, maybe rehabilitation, which wouldn't have been bad you know."

"It would have been on your record, I wouldn't want that for you, but I think I've done something much worse than that."

I frown my brows in confusion. What does he mean?

"I will tell you when you are ready, I promise," says my dad causing me to let out a bit sigh. I am eager to know but I didn't want to push my dad and overwhelm him.

"Who is Jackson then?" I ask instead.

"The one who protected me in prison when the bad guys came after me."

I lean my body over to my dad's and place my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his. I felt overwhelmingly sad thinking about how this happened to my dad. I didn't even want to know how long this have been happening for. I am not ready for that. What's the most important is for my dad to be okay.

"Are you okay now dad?" I ask then lift my head up to look at him, clutching my hands tighter to his arm.

"We can go to the hospital, you should get checked out."

My dad smiles at me, a sad smile, but reassuring in a way. His eyes soften and he places a soft kiss on my forehead, tucking my hair behind my ear and caressing my cheek with his thumb.

"I'm okay, almost healed it's just a matter of time, I just can't stop thinking about how much you've grown to be just a perfect woman and now that I am here I will be able to attend your weeding and see some grandkids," he says, raising his eyebrow at the mere mention of kids.

I blush, biting down on my lip. Immediately pulling away from my dad. I can't possibly tell him that I am pregnant, now can I? I haven't even had enough time to process the news myself and I haven't told Lucifer.

"What's wrong Anna?" asks my dad seasoning my worry.

I can't help myself anymore, I burst into tears covering my face with my hands. My dad tries to pull them away, but I shake my head and hold them steady.

"Anna look at me, tell me what's wrong?" urges my dad once more.

Finally, I give in, I lower my hands, rubbing away the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hands. With a blurred vision I stare at my dad.

"Dad but I'm pregnant!" I blurt out.

My vision is too out of focus to allow me to see my dad's reaction but in the end, he lets out a chuckle.

"And your upset about that? Didn't you say you want to have children with Damien?"

I stifle another cry.

"I did, but it's so much more complicated now, I haven't even told him and-and a part of me doesn't want it anymore, would it make me that much of a horrible person to abort it?" I beg my dad for an answer.

He pulls me closer to him, forcing my to lay my head on his lap while he stoked my upper arm.

"I can't tell you what to do, but Damien deserves to know, and if you have any feelings that you should abort...perhaps that's the right thing to do, I just want you safe, happy...alive, if that means no babies then be it."

I'd lie if I didn't admit that I am shocked by my dad's words. I would have thought he'd tell me to keep it, like mum would. It should make me feel uneasy, but I somehow find it reassuring. Like I am a step closer to making my decision. Then then again, I really want a child of my own. This is my opportunity. Who cares at this point that it is before marriage. I can switch up the order.

"When did you find out?"

I am startled by my dad's question. I is way up in my head.

"Last night."

"You still have time then, but you have to tell Damien."

"I'm 12 weeks," I inform my dad.

Silence befalls us. Coldness consumes us. It's like we both become two separate bodies. Even though we are touching, it might as well not be true. It felt like my body went floating. My vision went blurry in anticipation.

I fucked up. I really fucked up.