Written in Ink

Thirty-six | Alonzo

 I was thankful that today I got to leave work early for dancing lessons with Reagan today. I know the "routine" by now, but Reagan doesn't. So we will work on it for the next couple of days until the Gala. I almost get excited for the lessons, just so I can be with Reagan.

Lately I've been feeling differently towards her. Something that I haven't felt towards anyone.

During my drive, my bluetooth rings through the car and Marco's name comes up on the caller ID. "Capo." He says instantly.

"Cos'è Marco?" I ask, matching his panicked tone.

"Nico sta affrontando Reagan." He tells me Nico is confronting Reagan.

Immediately I step on the gas, speeding the way home. I appreciate Marco for calling me. If anything happens involving me or my father, he is supposed to stay out of it. He would get fired for this, but there is no way in hell I'd fire this man for telling me this.

It's a matter of minutes by the time I get home. I burst through the doors, not having to go far until I spot my father standing over Reagan. She is crying, and scared, trying to fight back but he has too much power.

Before I know it I grip the back of my father's suit collar, ripping him onto the ground. I pull back my arm and deliver a satisfying punch to his nose. My knuckles feel the crack of his bone. I want nothing more than to beat this man to a plum, but I hear the heart shattering cries coming from Reagan.

On a dime, I turn and go towards her, kneeling down cradling her into my arms. She looks up at me, sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She sobs, clutching onto me.

"Shh, shh. Don't be, don't say anything." I kiss her beauty mark, pulling her as close to me as I can.

"Love is weak, son." My father spits towards me.

"Gaining joy from beating females is weak 'dad'." I reply with a cold tone. I hear him march away and as soon as he is out of the room, Lorenzo and Buchanon come running in, coming back to Reagan's side.

She notices them and moves out of my grasp quickly, taking a hold of their collars and taking it off of them. "H-he had a remote of some kind and it hurt them." She explains, choking back a sob.

Anger fills me right to the brim again. All I want to do is go after him and put a bullet between his eyes. But Reagan needs me right now. "Come on." I say as I lift her up.

"I can walk—"

"Shhh." I repeat, holding her tightly as we walk up the stairs to our room. When we arrive, I bring her right to the bathroom, and sit her on the sink. Below the sink there is a first aid kit, I pull it out and open it up on the counter top. "Where does it hurt, amore?"

She doesn't even look me in the eyes. I can tell she is in pain, I can tell she is scared and sad. She must be guilty for something since she apologized before.

"Reagan." I press.

Some silent moments pass before I take it into my own hands. I gently grip the back of her neck with my thumb softly on her cheek. Her head tilts back and I take an alcohol packet with my free hand, ripping the top off with my teeth and taking out the swab. I put the cloth on her lip and her eyes scrunch shut.

"Ow." She whimpers, another tear escaping her eyes.

"I know, I know." I say softly, planting a swift kiss on her face. Everytime she scrunches her face, I kiss her in a different spot each time. "You don't need stitches, thankfully." I told her. "Where else are you hurt?"