Page 24 of The Devil's Den

No more screams. He’s quiet now. Those empty eyes, they stare at me, and I wonder if they see the monster I’ve become.

CHAPTERNINE

AIDA AGE 15

A heavy clatteringwakes me from my sleep, my eyelids heavy as I rub at them, groaning, and stuffing my face into the pillow. From the corner of my eyes, I find darkness out the window, wondering why my father would be up this late. Unless he left after I went to bed and is coming home now.

I ignore the stomping of his feet as they get near, yawning, attempting to fall back asleep. He bumps into something else with a groan, and that’s when the sound of a baby’s cry erupts.

I instantly sit up, turning on my bedside lamp, my heart racing. “What the…?”

Did I imagine it? I must’ve. Why would he have a baby? I shake my head. But just as I’m about to plop down onto the bed, my door swings open, and there he is, a soft bassinet in one hand, the kind for the floor, and a real-life baby in his other.

“Dad?” I yawn again as the baby wails. “What’s going on? Whose baby is that? Why do you have it?”

“Shut the fuck up, you little bastard!” He throws the bassinet on the floor beside my bed, placing the baby into it, a blue blanket wrapped haphazardly around his body.

The little one continues to cry, his little pink mouth curling pitifully. I swing my feet onto the floor, staring at him, not sure what to do. I’ve never held a baby before. What if I break him? Drop him?

“Why is he here?” I glance at my father. “Where are his parents?”

My dad crosses his arms and glares. “He’s mine.”

I freeze. “I’m sorry, what?” I’m sure I misunderstood.

“He’s my kid. He’s going to be living with us.”

No! No! No! He can’t live here.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he barks. “You know how much I hate it when you question me.”

“I don’t understand,” I continue. “Where’s his mom?”

“She’s in prison.”

“Prison?” This has got to be some kind of joke.

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say? Are you stupid or something?”

“Who will take care of him?” My father sure won’t. He doesn’t have a caring bone in his mean body.

“He’s your brother.You’regonna take care of him.”

My brother? Oh my God. He’smy brother…assuming my father isn’t lying that this boy is actually his.

“Dad…” I grimace as the baby screams with all his might. “I’m only fifteen. I know nothing about babies. I can’t do this.”

“What the fuck is so hard? You feed it, change it, and put it to sleep. Stop acting like it’s damn complicated. Your great-grandma was fifteen when she had her first baby. You could learn a damn thing or two.”

“I don’t even know how to hold one,” I whisper, not sure if my father could hear me over the loud sobs of the little boy.

“Alison will help you,” he says of Ms. Greco. “I texted her already. She’ll see it in the morning before she comes over tomorrow.”

“What about food? Diapers?”

“I got that shit. It’s in the kitchen. One of my guys got everything his wife told him to get. Got some bottles and pacifiers to shut that kid up too.” He lifts a fist in the air. “You make sure he’s damn quiet when I’m home, you hear?”

---