Page 62 of Psychotic Nightmares

“Okay.”

“Gustin,” he looks across to me. “I mean it. You’re a parent now, mate. You need to live a good life. Not just for you, but for your daughter too.”

“She may not be mine though.” He says under his breath. “But even if she isn’t, I won’t leave them.” He glances at Anya. “I won’t ever leave them.”

“We know.” Dante replies.

“I’m scared.” Gustin gulps, “what if I end up like him.” He sniffs. “He and Ma said I will end up being bad because of what I did to her. I didn’t want to do it.” He sniffs again. “I swear I didn’t,” I pull him closer until his head hits my shoulder, Dante takes little Nattie-Grace from his arms before he wraps them around me. We’ve been through this so many times, the bastards drugged him with viagra and forced him to rape Anya, but this is the first time he has informed us of what they said. “Pa told me I will be just like him when I’m older. I don’t want to be like him, I don’t…” his breathing becomes erratic. “I don’t, I don’t.” He repeats again and again. “I can’t end up like him, Julian. Kill me if I do. If I start getting thoughts like his, promise you will kill me.”

I can’t speak. Unable to answer him.

What the fuck do I do?

What do Isay?

I look across to Bull and Dante for help, both of them shrugging at me.

Thanks guys.

“Gustin, breathe.” He takes some deep breaths. “Now do you trust me?” He nods. “Then believe me when I say that they were wrong. You are a good kid and I fully believe that you will be a good adult too.” Could this be why he is on edge all the time? “You hold all the cards now, Gustin. For most of your life you’ve only had the cards you’ve been dealt, and they’ve all been bad hands. But you’re the dealer now. You get to pick your own hand. Understand?” I hope he understands what I mean by that analogy, because I don’t exactly want to say that if he does hurt any of the girls, I will gladly snap his neck. I grab some tissues from the box on the table and wipe his face.

“Ok-okay.” He hiccups. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, you have trauma. And that trauma will take a while to leave you, but it will get better.” Dante says quietly. “You can believe me on that, I am a prime example of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I might tell you one day,” Nattie-Grace starts to whimper. “Here, it looks like she needs cuddles from her daddy.” He slides the small being back into Gustinsarms and he instantly relaxes. I lookover his lowered head to my best friend, a communicated glance between us of “we have to help this kid.”

I check the timers on my phone and realise that if the women don’t come out of the kitchen soon, the potatoes are going to be going into the oven late. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked a traditional Christmas dinner. The last time was with mum seven years ago, she loved it so much. And if I’m honest, so did I. We woke up before everyone else, threw on some Christmas music and danced around the kitchen while preppingthe meat and veg. She taught me how to make homemade stuffing, apple sauce, and mint sauce. She smiled so wide when I handed her her Christmas gift - A collection of first edition Roald Dahl books.

I pull out my phone and send her a quick text.

Me:

Merry Christmas mum. I

missyou. Say hi to Nana

from me. <3

Mum:

I miss you too, my little

booger. We both do,

when are you planning to

visit us next? Bring Dante

and Nico too.

Mum:

Merry Christmas to you

all. I love you, J.