Until Nico (Until 4)

I walk down a long hallway with phone booths and Plexiglas lining one side. “Wait here,” a guard says before going to stand near the door. I take a seat, watching as a man wearing an orange jumpsuit enters. He’s short with a stocky build, dark, greying hair that’s tied back into a ponytail, and a face that is weathered and aged. If not for eyes perfectly matching Sophie’s, I would have no idea that he’s her father. His eyes meet mine through the glass, and I can see the confusion on his face; I know he has no clue who I am or why I’m here. He sits down across from me and nods to the phone, lifting the one on his side to his ear as I do the same.

“I don’t know you,” are the first words out of his mouth.

“No, you don’t.”

“Why are you here?” he asks, his eyes looking me over.

“You and I have someone in common.”

“Since I’ve been here for the last almost eight years and you look like you’re young enough to be my son, I doubt that,” he says and starts to pull the phone from his ear.

“Sophie,” I say, and his face pales, his eyes go wide, and his grip on the phone tightens so much that his hand and knuckles turn white.

“What did you just say?”

“Sophie,” I repeat and watch as he leans back in his chair, his hand going to his mouth, covering it.

“How do you know Sophie?” he asks as his hand moves from his mouth to run over his head.

“She’s going to be my wife,” I tell him bluntly.

His eyes look me over again before narrowing slightly. “Not my daughter.” I’m slightly taken aback by the adamancy in his voice. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“She is,” I agree. “So tell me why the fuck you didn’t protect her?” Even though this isn’t my reason for being here, knowing the shit she went through after losing her mother, I had to ask him.

“I…I was lost.” He takes a breath.

“You were lost?” I repeat, wondering what the fuck that even means.

“After her mother died, I was lost. I tried to be a good dad, but I couldn’t even look at my own daughter without hating her.”

“What?” I growl.

“She looked just like her mom. I know it was fucked up, but I hated looking at her and seeing my wife. Do you know how fucked up it is to look at your only child and wish they would have died with their mother just so you wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes when she looks at you?”

“You’re one stupid motherfucker.” I shake my head in disgust, wishing the glass weren’t separating us.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t regret the way I treated her?”

“I don’t think you do. You left her to the wolves.”

“I was fucked in the head after losing my wife,” he says, shaking his head.

“I get that, man. I really fucking get that. I honestly don’t know what would happen if I lost Sophie, and I pray to God I’ll never have to know what that feels like, but if she left me with our child, I would always make sure my kid was safe. No way would I fuck my kid’s life up just to make mine easier to

deal with.”

“I fucked up!” he shouts this time, making the guard take a step towards us.

“You did, but what I want to know is—are you still fucking up?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said earlier you wished Sophie had died. Do you still feel that way?”

“Do you know why I’m in this fucked-up place?”

I do know. I know he’s in here for murder. “I do,” I reply, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Do you know who I killed?”

“No.” When Justin told me where Sophie’s dad was and why he was there, I didn’t ask any more questions.

“I killed the guy who touched her. It was two days after she left. I had been sober for two whole days, looked around, and realized what I was doing to myself and what I let happen to my daughter. I tracked the guy down that hurt her and killed him. I’m in here for the next fifteen years. I do not regret for one second taking that fucker’s life. I know I should have prevented it from happening in the first place, but I didn’t, so I made it to where it would never happen again.”

“Holy shit.” I sit back in the chair, my body sagging.

“I know I fucked up with her, but I never wanted her to be afraid again,” he says softly.

I shake my head, still in shock from what he just said. “Someone has tried to hurt her twice since she moved to Tennessee.”

“That’s where she went?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had someone keeping an eye out for her, and then one day she was just gone.”

“Yeah. She’s in Tennessee with me.”

“How long have you been in the picture?” He cocks his head to the side.

“A while.”

“How is she?” he asks, closing his eyes, but not before I catch the look of pain in them.

“Good, but I really need to know who’s after her. Do you know of anyone here from her past who would be messing with her?”

“The only threat she had is dead.” I nod. “What’s your name?” he asks.

I debate for a second if I should tell him, but seeing him in here behind bars and knowing the reason he is here, I quickly make up my mind.

“Nico Mayson.”