The Monster's Little Angel

Chapter 10

Archer's bedroom door slammed open and he shot up, wide awake. He was about to reach for the gun under his pillow when Quinn's loud sobs filled his room as she ran up to him. He helped her up onto his bed as she swung her arms around his neck tightly. Laying both of them down on the bed, he cuddled her close as she cried into his chest.

It had only been four hours after her rescue. The time was now 2:00 in the morning and he had just gotten to sleep when Quinn barged into his room. Her cries practically tore him apart as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"What's wrong, Quinny?" he asked, worried about his little girl.

"The scary men scaring me again," she whimpered as she curled up more against him.

His heart nearly broke at her words. Luckily her attacker was going to be suffering just as much as she was.

"Don't worry, baby girl. It was just a nightmare," he cooed, trying to bring her some comfort. However, it didn't work.

"No! The scary men hurt me!" she exclaimed and started to cry again.

"Shh. Shh. Just go back to sleep, daddy will protect you."

"Promise?"

"I promise, baby girl."

Shortly after that, Quinn's eyes slowly closed and she finally fell asleep. Archer smiled sadly as she even shook in her sleep. He continued to hold her close, hoping his presence would ease her fear as he too slowly fell asleep.

***

Archer woke up and turned to Quinn, who was holding his arm close to her as she slept. He slowly got up, trying to pry her tight grip off of him without waking her up. However, her grey eyes slowly fluttered open while he tried to get her off.

"Daddy?" she asked, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Morning, Quinn," he greeted, mustering up a kind smile just for her.

Her grip loosened and he slipped his arm out before getting up. He stretched, expecting her to do the same as she loved to copy him as he headed for the door.

"Come on, baby girl. Let's get some breakfast," he cooed, going to open the door when he heard her voice call out to him.

"Daddy."

He turned around, surprised to see her still sitting on the bed. However, she had her arms up, repeatedly clenching and unclenching her hands. That was a signal that she wanted to be picked up. He was shocked by her actions.

Why, you may ask? I mean, to anyone else it was normal for toddlers to want to be picked up. . .but not for Quinn.

She never asked to be picked up. Ever. After she had learned how to walk, she didn't want people picking her up. She hated it when people picked her up without asking. In fact, the only person who could pick her up freely was her daddy. Even her Nanna and Pop-pop had to ask to pick her up.

She had not asked or signaled a person to pick her up in almost two years. And now here she was, almost begging her father to pick her up. This tiny action had his heart crumbling. It showed just how much her attackers and their mental abuse had affected her.

Sighing in sorrow, he picked her up. He placed her on his hip as she put her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder. He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. As he grabbed a frying pan, he tried to seat Quinn on an island chair but she just gripped onto him tighter, whimpering whenever he lowered her. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to separate Quinn from him, he sighed in defeat and began making breakfast. And in that entire time, Quinn did not let go of him.