Page 15 of Havoc
Chapter Six
Chrissy
“I know that I can be mistaken
But you know we all make mistakes
I know you're running out of patience
And I'm running out of things to say” - Prince Fox
Walking up to the visitation center I take a deep breath. I hate cases like this. There have been suspicions of neglect and some abuse. He has been ordered by the court to have supervised visitations in one of the centers. My job is to sit in the room and study them. The way he reacts to her, the way she reacts to him, and if I see any red flags. It’s hard to be in this position to know that your report and notes could affect so many people’s lives.
Dad walks into the room ten minutes late. Sophia is sitting at the table and when she sees him she barely reacts. Many of these kids can’t wait to see the parent, her not so much. Mr. Cane looks around the room, his eyes stopping on me. He holds my gaze for a while until I look away uncomfortable from the intense look in his eyes.
I can feel my anxiety rising even though nothing has happened yet. Sophia’s mother is on the other side of the one-way mirror. Some parents choose to leave but she always stays. She has been petitioning the court for sole custody, she has claims that dad is abusive but there has never been any proof. Without solid evidence like photos, police reports, medical reports, or witnesses the court can’t do much.
He sits down at the table next to Sophia and speaks to her in a hushed tone.
“Mr. Cane I need to remind you of the rules when you are here. There is no physical contact and all conversations must be vocalized loud enough for me to hear.” I make a note of the incident and then look up to him.
His eyes are narrowed at me and the hate in them is evident. “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business.” his voice growls and it isn’t a question.
“Okay.” I try to keep my tone even knowing that they stress to us that having conflict in front of the kids should be avoided whenever possible. “Maybe you and Sophia can talk about what she did this weekend. All I’m asking is that I can hear the conversations as stated in the agreement you signed.”
“I don’t give a shit what she did with that bitch.” He stands up kicking the chair out behind him. When he stalks toward me my hand feels under the table for my panic button. If I hit it security knows there’s trouble and will come right in. “You need to mind your own fucking business.” He backhands me and I fly to the floor from the force. “She should fucking be with me but the only way for that to happen is if that bitch dies.” He reaches behind him and pulls out a gun.
How the hell did he get in here with that? I freeze, my eyes moving to the little wide-eyed girl sitting at the table.
“Die bitch.” He shoots at the mirror and it shatters. Another shot rings out and when I look behind me Sophia’s mom isn’t standing there anymore. I hit the emergency button under the table, then as quick as I can, I get up and run toward Sophia. Grabbing her, I pull her to the floor and cover her body with mine.
“Get the fuck off of her!” His boot kicks at my ribs and I howl in agony.
He points the gun at me as I hear approaching footsteps. “Give me my fucking daughter.” Sophia’s hands cling to my shirt as he lifts his boot and slams it down against my cheek. I scream as my mouth instantly fills with blood.
“Fine, you want to fucking die too. So be it.”
A loud bang fills the room and I lie there waiting for the pain to invade my body. When I don’t feel anything, I look up to see two security guards and Mr. Cane on the floor. My head and ribs are killing me, but my heart is hurting worse than anything. I’m willing to bet that Sophia’s mom is gone, because I haven’t heard any sounds of pain from that side of the room. This little girl just became an orphan in the matter of a few minutes. I hold her close to my chest ignoring the pulsing pain in my side. Shielding her eyes, I pass her off to one of the guards.
This is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. Sure, I’ve had the parents with anger problems, the ones who show up drunk and belligerent, but this is something I’ll never forget.
The center insists on me waiting for the paramedics who simply wrap my ribs and give me an ice pack for my face, which I don’t even want to look at right now. I’m sure it looks worse than it feels, and it feels pretty damn horrible.
My phone buzzes and look at it to see a text from Rock.
Rock: Be home tomorrow.
I debate on letting him know what happened but there’s no need to have him all worked up when he’s riding. I’ll just tell him when he gets back.
