Involuntary servitude

“What are you doing to them?”

My question was stern, and angry- but the man in front of me showed no fear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His arms were crossed as he towered over me. I growled. 

“Don’t lie to me. What have you been doing to Nick and Charlie?” The man furrowed his brow. 

“What the hell are you implying, Quinn?” He stepped closer to me, but I held my ground, foolishly, boldly. 

“Don’t play stupid, Micheal. They hide from you constantly, and they run to me for protection- protection from you,” I snapped. The man leaned in close, and grabbed me by the collar. 

“Are you accusing me of abusing my children?” I narrowed my eyes. 

“I’m not accusing you. I already know that it’s happening- let go of me!” My voice raised in volume as my coworker held me by my collar off of the ground, bringing his face towards mine until our eyes met at the same level. 

“I can ruin you, Orion,” he growled. 

“Don’t think that I can’t. I could chew you out to the press for all the shit you’ve been involved with… I’m sure April would love to know,” he mocked. I struggled. 

“Threatening me with past relationships? So you’re confessing?” Kierce snarled. 

“I won’t let you spread lies about me. I’d hate for Sirius to be an orphan.” I huffed. 

“And I’d hate for your children to grow up without a father,” I fired back. He scoffed. 

“Do you think you’re some tough guy? That you’re in any position to make threats? I can toss you around like a rag doll, Quinn. I could maul you.” I rolled my eyes, unimpressed. 

“What, like you do to your sons?”

That was the breaking point in which our argument turned into an altercation. I felt myself hit the ground before I even knew that I had been thrown. I held my head as I looked up, dizzy, but Kierce was already descending down on me. He pinned me down quickly, and was breathing heavily. The look in his eyes was that of desperation, a willingness to commit violence that I couldn’t fully comprehend. I struggled against him, but not with much luck. He was on top of me, his knees pinning down my arms, with one of his hands holding him up and the other pressed against the bottom of my throat. I gasped for breath, but he pressed harder. It was a slow kind of suffocation, as if air was being squeezed out of you like a deflating balloon. 

He seemed to be enthralled by the power he held over me in this moment; his eyes staring into mine with a sense of satisfaction slowly washing over his expression as he continued to push down further on my throat. I squirmed, and struggled, and thrashed, but his grip only got tighter on me. He leaned back, taking the pressure off of my neck- just to wrap both of his hands around it and squeeze harder. I managed to get a gulp of air before he went back in, and I fought harder now, tears stinging in the corners of my eyes. 

Oh god. I think he's actually going to kill me. 

There was a sort of smirk on his face that only grew each time I fought against him. It was some kind of power trip for him. It all was, I realized. He doesn’t care about discipline or enforcing values; he cares about power. The power he has over others, to hurt them and to make them respect him. Respect? No. Fear. Fear was what he wanted. He wanted complete and total control. 

And he was getting it. 

I was getting dizzy now, my eyes staring into his with a look of terror. He was enjoying this thoroughly. I could feel the excitement radiating off of him. 

He loosened his grip once more, letting me go for a few moments so I could breathe. I gasped for air, over and over again, until my breaths became deep and shaky. He adjusted himself on top of me to ensure I couldn’t escape. 

“I don’t want you running your mouth and lying about how I parent my children. Have I made myself clear?” I closed my eyes, and wheezed. 

“You’re.. You’re horrible-“ I felt his hands wrap around my throat again, and he started to squeeze harder. 

“Have I made myself clear?” I gagged, and nodded- or at least, I tried to. He released me, and got off of me, leaving me on the ground. I couldn’t sit up; It was too hard to move. But he didn’t leave; Not yet. He wanted more. The fear, the pain, the suffering he caused- he was addicted to it. He reveled in seeing the damage he caused. I took a few more deep breaths before deciding to speak again. 

“You’re fucking sick,” I growled, slowly sitting up. He crossed his arms. 

“For what, protecting my kids from liars like you?” I slowly stood up, breathing deeply. I stumbled past him, and towards the door of my lab. He caught me by my shoulder. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” I pulled away from him, albeit weakly, and avoided eye contact. 

“Home,” I snapped. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his satisfaction from winning against me. I wanted to do more. I really did; but what else was there to do? Even if April knew, she’s sick in the head the same way that he is. I stumbled out of my lab, shaking, and slowly headed towards my car. I would have ran if my body allowed it. 

April. There’s no way that she didn’t know. I’m not even around the kids that much, and I can see it… Does Gloria know? If she did, would she care? Or would she be silenced like me?

I got into my car, and took a few deep breaths, as I finally allowed tears to fall from my eyes. Fuck. He won- and he won’t let me get that power back. Ever.

After a few minutes of quiet crying, I was able to pull myself together, as I took out my phone. 

I couldn’t do much, so I did all I could do. 

I left an anonymous tip to child protective services. 

All I could do from now on was hope that they’d care. 

They wouldn’t. 

They never did.