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        ❝𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.❞ Nicky said, over a plate of Sunday breakfast. Mike looked up at him, brow quirked.

        "Really?" he said, wiping his hands on the napkin in his lap. He leaned back into his chair. "About time you found a goddamn nanny. You've got the rest of us wantin' to rip our fuckin' hair out."

        Nicky felt his cheeks burn. "Sorry."

        "It's all right Nicky, don't sweat it. How's my girl doing anyway? We couldn't get her to crack over here." Mike asked, noticing Nicky's scalded look. He forgot how sensitive the boy could be sometimes.

        Nicky perked up at the mention of his daughter. Sometimes, thinking about how he'd come home to her, even  if she wasn't going to be as excited as he is, was one of the only things that got him through the day.

        "I saw her smile for the first time this week. Almost shit my goddamn pants." he said, smiling softly. "The nanny I hired. She must be funny. Had Rori grinnin' like the Cheshire cat when she walked off. I'm going to call her back today. Tell her to come in tomorrow for her first day, we'll see how she fares."

        Kennedy wouldn't have admitted it if you asked her, but she waited patiently by the phone downstairs as if she was waiting for the news of her life. In a way, it was. More than she could have predicted.

        It was Sunday evening when it rang. Kennedy watched as the lady asked who it was, and handed the receiver to her. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest when she pressed it up against her ear. This was big. The money he was willing to pay was ridiculous. It would change the trajectory of her life if she landed it.

        "Kennedy Harlow." she said evenly, trying not to give him a hint to her nervousness.

        "You got it Harlow. You'll start your first day tomorrow. I leave for work at 6 sharp. Mind showin' up at five-thirty so I can give you a rundown?" he asked. His voice sounded tired. On the other side of the line, he was nursing a whiskey, neat, licking his wounds from that night. He pressed an icepack on that shiner on his left eye. His mind was whirling with ways that he'd explain the bruising to Kennedy tomorrow. He'd say he got mugged or something like that.

        "I can do that sir," she said. "Is there anything you can think of that I need to bring with me?" she asked, preparing a pen and pad for a list.

        He sighed. "You're good. All you need to bring is yourself. We got everything you need here. I gotta go make some other calls. Have a good night Kennedy."

        She heard the click on his end and handed the phone back to the lady behind the desk. She smiled.

        "Got you a man calling on you? You been waitin' on that phone like a lost damn puppy." she said, a slight laugh in her voice.

        "No, I don't. I was waiting on a call for my job." she said, looking down. Her cheeks burned.

        Nicky shoved his handkerchief in his mouth and lifted up his shirt. Rori was sleeping peacefully in the other room. He wasn't going to wake her up with screaming. He grabbed a bottle of one-hundred proof from the coffee table and poured it on the two inch deep gash near his ribs. He bit down so hard he could have sworn he cracked his front tooth. When he got his hands on that square motherfucker he'd remove his head from his shoulders; he swore it. No one was supposed to have weapons.

        "Papa?" He heard a small voice from the kitchen doorway. His thoughts cleaned up right then, and he pulled his shirt down, trying to hide as much blood as he could in a short time.

        "Cerbiatto, hey." he said trying to hide his strained voice. She walked toward him, and grabbed his hand with both of hers.

        "You're hurt." she said, looking up at him with watery eyes. This was the first time she had spoken to him since Vittoria. He tried to hide the emotions that were crossing his face. He had to stay strong for the little girl. He hoisted her into his lap, and she touched the shiner gently with her tiny little fingers.

        "You should see the other gu–" he cut himself off. He was afraid he'd frighten her. "Its okay doll. I just fell is all. I'm just a little cut up and sore."

        "Can I help?" she asked in a small voice.

        "Yeah doll. Why don't you hand me those bandages over there?" She grabbed some and handed them to him.

        "What happened to your hands?" she asked, looking at his knuckles, which were torn up pretty bad.

        "I tried to stop myself when I fell." he said, scoffing softly. "Didn't work real well." He turned away from her to wrap the knife wound before she could ask any more questions. Next time he needed to lock her door after she fell asleep. Kids shouldn't have to see this.

oof. i got a little carried away on this one. anyways, please don't forget to vote, comment and drop me a follow! i love interaction so much. love you all, and i'll see u next thursday !! <3