Mickey had thought that the threat of getting beaten up by another Milkovich had passed when his dad did, but evidently he was wrong, as some cousins of his had proved today.

It was late, the early hours of the morning, so Mickey hoped you’d be asleep. He knew you might have stayed up, since you always worried and Mickey hadn’t texted you in hours since his phone had been shattered.

So, he stepped into the room the two of you shared quietly, feeling the blood trickling down his face and the ache all over his body, just hoping you were asleep.