Three days passed before Calix allowed me to leave the house again, his fury fading in small increments. Calix’s mom helped Malva stir chocolate chips into the cookie dough as I sat at the island of his parents’ kitchen, watching the two of them as they went through the motions of an activity that Malva should already know how to do. I couldn’t even work up the motivation to try to help, knowing I would only get in the way.
I’d never even eaten a cookie, let alone made them.
Calix was occupied speaking with the security staff he’d placed around the house, and it comforted me to know that Malva was well-protected. Even if it was by the man I wasn’t entirely certain I could trust. The necklace I couldn’t seem to get off my neck was confirmation of that inability to trust, because I could have sworn that if I looked hard enough I could see the tiniest of locks at the back of the clasp.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” Evangeline murmured, her eyes twinkling as she held my gaze. She helped Malva start shaping the balls of cookie dough. “Did Calix give it to you?”
“I woke up wearing it one morning,” I said, chuckling beneath my breath. I only had the vaguest memory of him putting it on me, but I didn’t think his mother wanted to hear the story of how her son had fucked me so hard I’d slept for twelve hours straight.
“That sounds like Calix. He’s always had good taste,” she said, glancing over the back of my shoulder as Eugene stepped into the room. Calix’s father gave me the ickies; something about his presence was so different from his son’s that I immediately tensed and pushed my shoulders up higher.
As if I was waiting for the cane to crack against them, expecting him to demand the very same standards my father had.
“You’re going to spoil her rotten if you keep it up,” Eugene snapped at his wife. Malva kept her head down, and I suspected that she’d been told to avoid interacting with the older man any chance she got.
Evangeline patted the top of Malva’s hand comfortingly, encouraging her to continue with her task. “You just let me and Calix worry about that,” she said, her face carefully blank as she turned it back down to the cookies.
“You think it doesn’t concern me? This is my house, no matter what that boy would lead you to believe. I never agreed to taking on the girl when he told me we were coming back here, and I definitely never agreed to allow him to be the poster boy for this fucking family.”
“I cannot imagine what it must be like to live to be your age, and still have absolutely no concept that you are not wanted somewhere,” I said, turning to glare at him. My stool swiveled with me, my fingers clutching the light fabric beneath me. “Now if you don’t mind, we were having a conversation before you inserted yourself into something that is frankly, none of your fucking business.”
“What did you just say to me?” Eugene asked, his jaw clenching as he stared down at me.
“Malva, why don’t we go and play in the other room? We’ll finish the cookies in just a minute,” Evangeline said, taking a towel and wiping Malva’s hands clean. Evangeline hustled Malva out of the room and my respect for her immediately grew. Whatever she thought of her husband and what might come, she would do what she needed to protect Malva from witnessing it.
The same way my mother had tried to protect me before they took her away.
“I said what everyone who has the misfortune of being near you thinks. Nobody wants you here. You are a useless waste of energy, a detriment to the Regas name, and if it hadn’t been for you—” I cut off, holding perfectly still as Eugene raised his hand. The back of it cracked against my face, the signet ring on his finger catching my lip as my head snapped to the side.
“Eugene!” Evangeline scolded as she stepped back into the kitchen.
I raised a hand, touching a finger to the cut on my lip as I turned my stare back to him. “Are you finished with your tantrum?” I asked, wiping the blood away. It stained the bottom of the white sleeve of my blouse, the darkness of it looking like a smear of ink.
“He never should have been allowed to marry you. He always was a little bitch for you. You’ve taken him from what could have been a great man and made him weak. I raised him to be more than your plaything,” Eugene said, shaking his head in disgust as he fidgeted with his ring.
“I find it quite ironic to have you criticize anyone for weakness, when you hit like a ten-year-old girl relying on her jewelry to cause pain,” I snapped, rolling my eyes and turning my stool back to face the island counter, dismissing the man I wanted nothing to do with, who was not worth my time.
“You little fucking—”
“What exactly is going on here?” Calix said, stepping into the room. I couldn’t see him with the entrance to the kitchen behind me, but I could feel his presence like a heavy weight. I could just imagine the way his eyes were shifting from me to his mother to his father, his stare inquisitive as he tried to piece together the puzzle.
I glanced at Eugene from the corner of my eye, my cut lip curving into a smirk at the subtle notes of fear on his face. Having spent most of my life with fear as my closest companion, and the driving motivation for anything and everything I did, I knew it well.
Looking at Eugene’s face was a victory, like returning home to put the abuser in his place.
“Does it bother you? To know that your son will choose me over you if you force his hand?” I asked.
“Whores are common. He only has one father,” Eugene said, making the energy in the room shift even more. Evangeline raised a hand to cover her mouth, but her eyes were not surprised. I couldn’t imagine it was even close to the first time Eugene had said something along those lines, but it was probably the first time he’d been stupid enough to say it in front of Calix.
“I am ready for my judgment,” I said, pausing to run my tongue over the blood welling on my lip. I pursed them together, the swelling in the bottom one already making my mouth feel distorted. “Are you?”
I swiveled my seat to face Calix, watching as his silver gaze trailed over my face. It stopped when it snagged on my lip and the beginning of swelling there. He stepped forward slowly, placing two gentle fingers beneath my chin and lifting my face so that he could inspect it more thoroughly. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft.
His stare penetrated mine, searching for any sign of the sort of injury he wouldn’t be able to see. He looked for any wounds caused by his father’s barbed words, the kind that could wrap around my heart and do far more damage than a signet ring.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, leaning into his touch.
“Good,” Calix murmured, tapping the fingers of his free hand against the counter before he turned to face his father. His posture was straight, shoulders held back as he stepped up to his father. “Which hand?” he asked, turning to face me.
“The one with the ring,” I said, glancing down at Eugene’s right hand.
Calix nodded, moving to the counter and pulling open one of the drawers. He reached in, hefting the stainless steel meat mallet and tossing it twice before he turned his attention back to his father. “Move the cookies, Mom,” he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Evangeline hurried to gather up the bowl of cookie dough and the cookie sheet, retreating into the dining room with them.
Calix watched her go, and I hoped that she would take Malva far enough away that she wouldn’t need to hear what was about to happen. I was tempted to follow, to see to my sister, but I realized with a shock that I trusted Evangeline to be there for her.
I wanted to watch Eugene suffer.
Calix reached down, grabbing his father’s hand and pressing it against the counter. “Calix!” Eugene protested, pulling against his son’s hold.
“Would you like to break it, or should I, Little One?” my husband asked, looking at me over the kitchen island.
As tempting as it was… “You’re stronger. You can break it better than I can,” I said, planting my elbows on the counter. I leaned forward, watching as Eugene clenched his fingers into a fist.
Calix didn’t care. Holding his father’s wrist pinned to the counter, he swung the tenderizer and brought it down on Eugene’s fingertips where they dug into his palm. Eugene screamed in pain as they crushed, the crack of bones resounding beneath the shrill sound. Calix did it again, pounding the mallet down until Eugene’s fingers were a twisted, gnarled mess. Blood splattered from where the bone shards protruded from his skin, the hand ruined in a way that I knew even surgery wouldn’t be able to fix.
When Calix was satisfied that the hand was completely and totally broken beyond repair, he tossed the bloody mallet into the sink and pried open his father’s broken fingers while his father cried. Eugene whimpered in pain, clutching at his forearm as if it could stop Calix from snapping them backward and grinding the bones against one another.
He pulled the signet ring off Eugene’s finger, the black stain of blood covering the band. Finally releasing his father’s hand, he held the ring out to me. “A token of his apology, λουλούδι μου.”
I smiled as I took it, enjoying the horror on Eugene’s face far more than was normal as I pushed the ring onto my finger. It was far too large for me, but I held it up to let the light streaming in through the windows make the metal gleam. Blood dripped down onto my skin.
“If you don’t mind going to spend some time with your sister, I would like to have a few words with my father. Is that alright with you?” Calix asked, staring down at where the blood touched me.
“Of course, η ψυχή μου,” I said, standing from the stool. I walked around the counter, around Eugene’s form where he clutched his crushed hand to his chest, and kissed my husband softly. I raised a hand, using a thumb to wipe the spatter of blood off his cheek as I pulled away.
And I left him to deal with the errant father who needed to be put down like the rabid beast he was.
