Bloody Knuckles • Gallavich

Bruises

Mickey had ended up spending the night at Ian's the day before. He forced Ian to let him sleep on the floor, rather than the bed, but Mickey was starting to regret that decision greatly as he rubbed the knot in his neck.

He let out a small sigh and pushes open the door to his house. It was quiet inside. Mickey didn't see his brothers watching tv, or his dad on the couch. Mickey figured he had the whole place to himself for the afternoon so he kicked his shoes off and shut the door behind him.

Down the hall he heard a small clank like something had fallen onto the bathroom tile. Mickey rose his eyebrows at that and slowly crept his way over there. He pushed his bedroom door open and his eyes widened at the sight.

In the bathroom was his sister. Her face was full of fresh blood and it had started to drip down onto her shirt as well. Her left eye was swollen shut and Mickey noticed that her shirt was stretched out on the top as if someone was tugging to get it off and her jeans were unbuttoned.

Mickey immediately saw blood red. His face heated up and his fists clenched at his sides. "Was it dad?" He asks jaw clenched.

Mandy lowered the bloodied rag from her face and shakes her head. "Mickey no I-"

"Don't make up a bullshit lie, Mandy. I'm not dumb. I know dad has raped you before this and he probably did it again," he says, rubbing a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm going to kill him... I swear to god I'm going to fucking murder him!" Mickey turns quickly and marches back into his room and over to his dresser. He tugs open the drawer so aggressively that it completely comes out and lands with a thud on the ground. He cursed quietly and picks it back up, setting it on his bed.

"Mick, what are you doing?" Mandy asks nervously, hurrying over to her brother.

"I told you, I'm going to kill dad." He digs around in his drawer, pushing away a few knives and empty cigarette boxes before pulling out a small handgun. He checks to make sure it's loaded before tugging it into the waistband of his jeans.

"Mickey please don't," Mandy begs, lip trembling. "Mick you're gonna get caught and then what? Even if you do kill dad you'll still be in prison for life."

"I don't give a shit anymore. I'm sick of him doing this shit all the goddamn time," he says. Mandy immediately breaks down. Tears slip from her eyes and roll down in pink drops as they mix with the blood.

"Don't. Please don't do it," she begs. In a desperate attempt to stop her brother, Mandy throws herself on him. She pulls him into a tight hug and presses her face to his chest.

Mickey stiffens in the hug. He doesn't hug her back, but after a moment he relaxes a bit in her arms. "I just... he can't keep doing this to you... to us." He gently pries Mandy off of her and shrugs his jacket on. "He's probably at the alibi. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Mandy shakes her head. "Please don't, Mick. You're going to end up shooting him and then you're gonna go to prison."

Mickey let's out a frustrated groan and tosses the gun onto his bed. "Fine, I won't take the fucking gun. But I'm still going down there to talk to him."

Mandy opens her mouth before closing it again and nods. "Just be safe, please. I don't want him hurting you too," she says, wiping tears from her eyes.

Mickey nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "I will. I'll be fine, Mandy. Just stay here and clean yourself up. I'll be back later," he mumbles. Mickey walks toward the front door and leaves the house.

His jaw was still set and he felt his whole body rush with adrenaline. Mickey wanted nothing more than to hit Terry hard in the face. He wanted to smash his tatted knuckles into the man's face over and over again until Terry was knocked down. He wanted him to feel the same way he did. Mickey wanted his dad to feel that same numbing fear he felt every time his dad rose his voice. He wanted him to bleed at the hands of his own son and he wanted everyone at the bar to watch. Mickey wanted to prove to everyone that Terry wasn't as big and bad as he seemed. But he mostly wanted to prove it to himself. He wanted to see the real Terry who was nothing more than a pathetic, drug-addicted deadbeat.