by A. R. Breck
I force a smile. “I’m good.”
He walks around the bar and away from the nosy drunks. “You know, Cara. I know your mom hasn’t been home in quite some time. You need anything, you can always come to me, yeah? I don’t give a shit what your mom or Jed has to say about it.”
My chest shakes with restrained emotion. I hate when people show that they care. That either means they’ll let me down or they’re just fucking with me in the first place.
Lewis has never been a bullshitter, though.
“Thanks, Lewis.”
I think he can tell that I’m about to cry, and that usually draws the line at his kindness. “Okay, then. Get out of here kid, your mom should be upstairs.” He waves me off and heads back to the bar.
I head towards the back where the stairs lead to the upstairs apartment. I’m not sure what Lewis is getting out of letting Jed and my mom stay up here. I know Lewis lives across the street, but he could probably get a decent tenant that actually pays rent if he tried.
Across from the stairs are a set of bathrooms. When the toilet flushes in the men’s bathroom, I quicken my pace. I hate getting stuck back here when there are other guys around, mostly if they’ve been drinking. That means they’re handsy and apparently turn deaf when the word no is spoken.
I make it to the door where the stairs are, and as I’m walking through it the bathroom door behind me swings open.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that my legs weren’t just a few inches longer. If that were the case, I would have made it through the door unscathed. Hopefully it’s just one of the harmless old men from the bar.
“Well, look-ee here.”
No such luck.
I don’t release the door handle. Instead, I grip it tightly as I look over my shoulder. “Hi, Jed.” I can’t stop the frown that takes over my face. This son-of-a-bitch has hurt me more times than I can count. Bruising my ass and turning me into a shell of a person.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” He growls. He’s grown a gray beard and it matches his tired skin. His brown eyes flare with anger as he looks me over, probably remembering all the reasons why he hates me.
None of which I understand.
“Looking for Mom.” I grit through my teeth. I want to run for my life, but I feel like that’s the worst thing to do. Almost like a bear. Stand your ground. Once you run, you’re fucking dead.
“What for?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“It’s none of your business.”
He smiles at me, his crooked, yellowed teeth making an appearance. “Yeah, well you walkin’ in my house is sure as fuck my business.”
“Trust me, I won’t be here a second longer than I need to.” I turn away from him, which makes me want to slap myself in the face. If I’ve learned one thing over the years, it’s to not turn my back on this man.
He grabs onto my bicep, whipping me around and slamming me against the door. “You know, I don’t really like your tone.” He runs his tongue along his teeth, and I nearly gag at the sight. “You know what else I don’t like? You sendin’ your little guard dogs to pay me a visit.”
I swallow air. The room turns ice cold at the malice in his tone.
Last time I saw Jed was when he laid his hands on me. He beat my ass until it was welted and bruised. So painful I couldn’t even sit down. For what? Absolutely nothing. Logan found out… I’m not sure what happened, but it must have scared Jed away, because I haven’t seen him since.
“I didn’t tell anyone to do anything.” I growl.
“I should teach your friends a lesson, huh? Show that blonde boy who the real man is.”
Tears spring to my eyes. He doesn’t even know.
“That blonde boy is dead, you sick fuck. Now get away from me!” I attempt to shove him away, but he keeps hold of my arm in a bruising grip.
Then he cackles. “Oh, boy. He sure had what was comin’ for him, didn’t he?” He laughs again. “Maybe I should come back home, then. Make sure you don’t go fuckin’ around like some little slut.”
I spit in his face.
“You come in my house and I’ll gouge your eyes out in your sleep.”
He blinks, my spit sticking to his eyelids and dripping down his cheek. His hand flies to my neck, squeezing tight. “You little slut! I should bend you over and turn your ass purple.” His hand releases my neck, sliding down my front and cupping between my legs. He pinches, making me whimper. “Or I could bend you over and teach you another lesson.”
I swallow down a mouthful of bile.
“If you don’t release me, I’ll scream Lewis’ name so loud the mirrors shatter. Then I’ll get Richard Malone on your ass for thinking you can be some pedophile pervert. Release me. Now.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the thought of having to deal with Richard Malone. He releases me, taking a step back and sneering. “I’m gonna get a drink. When I come back, you better be gone.” He steps close to me, breathing down his day old beer breath fanning across my cheek. “Or else you better start sleepin’ with one eye open, you little bitch.”
He walks through the door and towards the bar, leaving me in frozen terror.
I exhale a shaky breath, hating that I let a lowlife as bad as Jed get to me. How can I not? He’s been my nightmare for years, and his threats aren’t empty. He always follows through on them.
I move, making quick work up the stairs. Now more than ever I want to get this shit over with and go home. I’m stupid for even thinking for a second this is a good idea. But if there’s any chance at all that my mom will be able to help me, I’m going to need it.
Once I get to the top of the stairs, I knock on the door as I turn the knob.
“Mom?”
“Cara?” Her surprised voice comes around the corner.
I smile when she turns the corner. I just wish it wasn’t one-sided. Wearing an oversized Corona shirt and holey jeans, she looks just as much of a wreck as she always has.
“Hi, Mom.” I smile. I can’t help it. I haven’t seen her in so long, I just miss her. I want to hug her, but I don’t want her to question me about it, which I know she will.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Her annoyed tone doesn’t go unnoticed. My smile drops, and I frown.
“I wanted to talk to you.” Her eyes widen at me serious tone.
“About what? Where’s Jed? You know he ain’t goin’ to be too happy that you’re here.”
I roll my eyes. “I saw him. He’s at the bar.”
“Aw, shit. He said he’d wait for me.” She turns around and looks down at the floor. “Where the hell are my shoes?” She mumbles to herself. “You gotta make it quick, Cara. Jed doesn’t like to wait on me too long.”
I sigh, sad that just like always, Jed comes before me.
“Mom.” I say, tone shaky. She stops looking for her shoes and glances up at me. “What is it, Cara?”
“Can we sit down? Just for a second? I promise it’ll only be a few minutes.”
She sighs, tired of me already. Like I’m the damn salesperson at her door that won’t go away.
I walk in, looking around at the place I used to spend my time as a kid. Lewis used to let me hangout up here when my mom spent her time at the bar. It’s pretty small, a no bedroom condo. The small kitchen opens up to a small living room. Off to the side is a tiny bathroom with a tiny shower, no tub. That’s it. No bedroom. The couch must be a pullout bed, with all the pillows and blankets stacked on top of it.
I walk over and sit down on the edge of the couch. My mom stares at me from where she’s standing.
Folding her arms across her chest, she barks, “Well, get to it. I don’t got all day, Cara.”
I fiddle with my hands in my lap, breathing through the balloon of nervousness that’s filling up my chest.
“I’m pregnant.”
Her eyes go wide, and her arms drop to her sides. “Wow.”
That’s it. Just wow.
“I need your help.�
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She frowns at that. “I’m not taking care of your child, Cara, if that’s what you’re asking. You were plenty for one lifetime.” She barks out a laugh, like she thinks she actually took care of me a day in her life
Now that’s laughable.
“No, I don’t want you to fucking take care of it. I just don’t know what to do. I need your advice.”
She shakes her head, but doesn’t seem at all shocked.
“What does that boy…” She thinks for a second, then snaps her fingers. “Logan! What does Logan think of it? That boy has had the hots for you since you were a kid. I bet he’s fumin’.”
Again. Seriously, again.
“Logan died, Mom.” I squeeze my hands together, nails digging into my palms. When will the pain end?
Her eyes grow wide at that, and now she’s shocked.
“Wow. Well, those boys are in some bad shit, Cara. I always knew they was trouble.”
I sink further into the couch, so fucking sad. This isn’t what I intended when coming here. Dealing with my mom acting like this. And it’s not like I was expecting anything positive but having to talk about Logan twice is really fucking with my head.
“What do I do, Mom?” I look up at her, tears glistening my eyes. I need her. I just need her so bad.
She’s silent, tapping her chin with her pointer finger as she stares at me.
“You get rid of it.”
And any hope for advice plummets to the ground.
“What?” I whisper.
She slaps her hands down at her sides. “You get rid of the fucking baby, Cara. What the hell you doin’, getting’ pregnant anyway? You know better! Haven’t I taught you anything over the years?”
“No, you haven’t.”
She scowls at me. “Quit bein’ a bitch. I’ve been there for you my entire life, stayin’ in one place my whole life just so you could have some stability.”
“Stability?” I scoff. “Okay.”
She scowls at me. “I’m bein’ serious, Cara. You get rid of that baby before it’s too late. The only thing it’ll do is run you into the ground. Trust me.” Fucking hell, I hate this woman so much. “You go tell them to get that baby out of you before it ruins your life. If not, you’ll end up just like me. Stuck. Is that what you want, Cara?” Tears streaming down my face, I shake my head at her. No, I want to be nothing like her. “You’ll be nothin’ but a corner whore just like the rest of ‘em. Slingin’ drinks downstairs or working down the block takin’ your clothes off for dollar bills, livin’ paycheck to paycheck and goin’ hungry at night cause you have to feed the little monster. Is the dad in the picture?”
I shake my head.
She laughs. “Fuck, Cara! I thought I taught you better than this! You really are just a little slut, aren’t you? I’m disappointed in you. Shit, might as well keep the baby at this point. Seems you got the brain of every other woman in town.”
I stand up, feeling like I’m either going to stab her with a kitchen knife or… stab her with a kitchen knife.
“I’m so glad you have such high expectations of me, Mom.” I sob, walking towards the door.
“I did have high expectations of you until you went and knocked yourself up! Now look at you. No job, no man, no nothing except a money sucker livin’ in that belly of yours.”
I open the door and step out. Looking over my shoulder, I cry, “I thought when I needed you most, you might be there for me, but I guess I was wrong.”
She shrugs. “What do you want me to say? I’m only tellin’ you the truth.”
I shake my head sadly and start walking down the stairs.
“Don’t you come cryin’ to me when you can’t get that baby to sleep! Up all night cryin’ and you’re tired as hell. Do not come to me, Cara!”
I hold my breath until I get down the stairs. I walk out the back exit, wanting to avoid Jed and Lewis’ prying eyes.
Once I get through the door and back onto the main street, I let loose the sob that’s been begging to be set free.
If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I never want to become anything like that woman upstairs.
4
Jackson
Age Thirteen
I wake up to the sound of banging, and my face is covered in frown lines and worry before I’m even fully awake. This is my alarm clock every morning. I wake up to the sound of my mom or dad clattering around in the kitchen. Sometimes, it’s my dad barking orders at my mom. My dad won’t be bothered to give me a clock or TV in my room to check the time, so I mostly have to go off the direction of the sun and the noises in the other room.
Since we moved here four months ago, my mom has become a zombie. She’s so hopped up on whatever kind of drugs that my dad gives her, I don’t think she’s even said a handful of words to me since we stepped foot in this place. She sits in front of the TV slumped over in a drug induced daze. On the bad days she doesn’t even leave her room. Those are the times I won’t even see her for a week.
I’m sad, because I figured moving here would be a good thing. I thought changing scenery and getting away from the bad would give us a fresh start; a place where we can start over and I can finally be happy.
I was so, so wrong.
I can’t say that it’s worse than before, because it’s not. My dad works long hours and I don’t have to worry about him breathing over my shoulder every second of the day. But when he’s home, it’s like I’m an incessant fly that he just can’t get away from.
I also have my friends now. They’ve accepted me for me, and although they sometimes give me a side eye at my silence, they let me hang around them. The invite me to do dumb shit like throw rocks down at the river and shoot our air soft guns in the woods at old beer cans. Easton was given a real gun by his dad, but he’s not allowed to use it and says his dad will kill him if he disobeys him.
I’m all too familiar with the tendencies of a controlling dad.
I sigh and roll out of bed. I just started school a month ago. School sucks, and I wish it was summertime still. I don’t know anyone at this school except Easton, Logan, and that annoying neighbor Cara that wants to tag along everywhere. I have homeroom with Logan and math with Easton, but other than that, I’m surrounded by a bunch of strangers all day.
When I hear a plate shatter on the ground, my body tenses and I glance at my window. I wonder how much shit I would get in if I just snuck out my window. My side clenches just thinking about it. I grab a shirt that’s on my floor and yank it over my head.
Walking out to the kitchen, I see my mom hunched over large shards of glass on the floor as she tries to sweep it up with her bare hands.
“Mom…” I sigh, walking up to her and watching the depressing scene in front of me. When I hear a door creak from the other side of the house, Mom and I both freeze and look over our shoulder.
“What was that noise? What the fuck did you do?” Dad barks, hair wet from the shower as he buttons up his nice top.
He’s made his way to the higher ranks in Rich Malone’s business in no time. My dad came to Minnesota with nothing except us strapped to his back. No loyalties or excuses or obligations. He knew what he was getting into and he was all in. Now he works hard and long hours to prove himself. From what I’ve heard, he’s proving to be a loyal partner. He dresses nice and acts like a loving father and husband in front of everyone.
No one knows what happens behind closed doors. They might suspect, but no one will ever assume or say anything.
“I-I’m sorry.” Mom slurs, grabbing the glass pieces and bringing them over to the trash can. She’s fucked up and it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning yet.
I look at my mom, wondering what happened and where she went wrong. My parents have always been disappointments, over the years it’s only gotten worse and I really feel like I’ve walked into a completely different family.
My eyes widen as my dad grabs my mom on the back of her neck roughly and pulls her away from the mess. “Go sit
down, Mary. You’re a fucking wreck.” He pushes her forward, and she stumbles, nearly falling to her knees before righting herself and sniffling her way to the couch.
“Fucking whore.” He sneers at her retreating back, and if possible, my mom’s form hunches forward even further.
When he looks back at me, his eyes look fierce. And pissed. Very fucking pissed. “Clean this shit up, boy.” He barks, pointing at the remaining pieces of plate scattered on the floor. I squat down to pick up the rest of the plate, only to pick up my pace when I feel the irritation looming over me from my dad.
Once I’m finished, I brush my hands off and go to stand up, when I feel a pressure in between my shoulders. I swallow audibly and close my eyes. I know what time it is.
Same shit. Different day. My dad always finds a way to ruin my day and put his hands on me. Doesn’t matter if I didn’t commit the crime, I’ll always do the time. I’m the brunt of his assaults nowadays. I know my mom still gets beat by him. I can hear her cries behind closed doors. But when he’s the angriest, he turns his fists towards me.
It’s always me.
When the pressure turns painful, I bite my lip to stop the cry that wants to break free.
“You’re not done, boy. You need to sweep the fucking floor afterwards. You stupid?” He brings his knee up into my gut—hard—and the wind gets knocked out of me. “I said, are you fucking stupid?”
“Sorry, no. I heard you.” I get up and rush to get the broom. This is why I should have escaped out of my bedroom window. I always get sucked into this shit and then I can never make it to school on time.
Grabbing the broom from the front closet, I hurry back and sweep up nothing, since I already got it all beforehand. When I’m walking to put it back, I glance at the stove and swear under my breath when I see the time. The bus is going to be here in three minutes.
I have to move it. If I miss the bus, my dad will really kill me.
I move to brush past my dad, but he halts me with a quick hand to the neck. Squeezing tight, he pulls me towards him and breathes in my face. “You talk with respect when you’re speaking to me. You better drop that attitude and drop it fast.” He pushes me back, and the back of my head slams into the cabinet behind me. My eyes slam shut as stars start dancing in front of me, and I gasp out a breath when his tight grasp releases my neck. When I open my eyes, he’s gone, and I’m standing there, in the kitchen, gasping and sweating.