by Danae Ayusso
Chapter Twenty
Daddy & His Demons
We will so need a shower after this. Seriously, the felt smells like stale beer, puke, sweaty ballsack and moldy corn chips.
Oh my God, you’re making me sick again.
That’s what you get for drinking on a nearly empty stomach and going full fucktard.
You’re the one that punched the mirror.
Am not.
Will someone please make the pounding stop!?
“Damn it, I told you she was fine,” Dillon snapped as the mid-day sun poured in from the door across the bar.
“Is she okay?” Price asked, getting choked up on the words.
“Drunk,” Dillon snorted. “Apparently I got to meet Justice and she started taking her hostility out on the pool table before she face planted. I figured I’d just leave her there until she sobered up.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Don’t thank me. Honestly, I had no idea who in the hell she was until she confirmed her ticket over the phone with your credit card. But we need to talk.”
Okay, shut up. I don’t want to hear this. Why can’t I be unconscious for this?
The drool puddling around your face should only be possible through deep sleep and catatonic states, not this physically numb, eavesdropping, wish you could bury your head in the ground from shame type of suspended non-animation that you’re currently in. We haven’t been like this in years.
Seriously, shut up!
“How’s her hand?” Price whispered.
“Uh, fine?” Dillon said, confused by his question.
“Thank God. She broke a mirror and there was so much blood. I was so scared.” He sat at one of the tables. “What do I do, Dilly?”
Dillon joined him at the table and forced a smile. “You’re doing the best you can, Uncle Price, but you have to remember that she’s just a girl, a young woman. And regardless of how mature she seems, she’s a scared little girl. You hurt her feelings by introducing her to Soren how you did.”
“I had to,” he snapped at her.
Someone needs a hug.
“I know,” she snapped back. “And that’s the next thing to bitch about. How could you not tell her? Do you honestly think that keeping all of this underlying bullshit and drama a secret is protecting her from it? For the love of God, Uncle Price, Soren almost caused you to lose your daughter, again, simply because you’re trying to protect her from the bullshit. She’s a scared little girl that needs her daddy, but she’s a mature and intelligent woman that ain’t as oblivious as you think. You need to man up and be her father, but be legit with her at the same time. Otherwise you’re just gonna push her away.”
Compliments are always welcomed, but I’m not scared. I’m an ass kicking, drunk seventeen-year-old that will totally claw their eyes out like a bitch on a mission, and cry like an emotionally imbalanced chick while I do it, and apologize endlessly, but whatever. The intent of asskickage is there, and I’m a force to be reckoned with.
You are never drinking again.
“Dilly, it’s complicated… Mikhail and Justice are complicated. It’s as I tried to explain on the phone, she is very complicated and special. It doesn’t...she’s a female. None of that bullshit applies to her.”
Dillon snorted. “Well, Uncle, I hate to break this to you, but she’s yours and of your blood, thus it affects her, and there’s no getting around that. She needs to know, otherwise she’ll be at risk. And you know as well as I do that there’s no way they aren’t eventually going to put two and two together. The resemblance is uncanny.”
Yeah, I know, I look like a dude. I look like Price for the most part. Thanks for rubbing it in.
“What do I do?” he whispered. “I can’t lose her, not again.”
Price doesn’t have to worry about that.
I’m not running away again.
We’re over it.
Dillon explained that Soren has gone out of his way to make Price’s life a living hell. Soren will stop at nothing to take away the only thing that matters in Price’s life, which is me—her words, not mine. She also warned that I need to ask before I act and keep my temper in check, and that it’s like Price’s temper and it could prove to be a very bad thing if I don’t learn to manage it better.
Therapists have been saying that for years!
In all fairness, I was tired, hungry, thirsty, sore, on an emotional roller coaster, and Price’s words kind of threw me in an emotional blender from hell. The mirror I’ll apologize for and try to work off. This time I hit an inanimate object, not go on a random punching spree like Justice did in Philly.
That was fun!
No, no it wasn’t.
I hit myself, in essence, and got a boo-boo this time. Nothing major. Hell, it’s already...
Uh oh. That’s going to cause a problem and demand an explanation.
How do I explain something that I don’t understand myself?
I think we need another drink, better make it a triple.
Screw it, just give us a fifth and we’ll call it good.
“Dilly, can you come home for a bit? To help with the transition better? I know that Ellie has connected with her, but with school coming up it might help to make it easier if Mikhail has another female around to talk to. Please?”
Dillon groaned. “Are you serious?” She sounded like a little kid throwing a fit. “Fine, whatever. I need to get my crap together before school starts anyway.”
“Thank you,” Price said softly under his breath. “I’ll arrange for your living arrangements outside of the ranch as well. I’m sorry, but there’s no way in hell that my niece is staying in that roach infested apartment anymore. I can’t believe he allowed you to even sleep there.”
She softly chuckled. “He didn’t.”
Price shivered. “Mental picture I didn’t need,” he said and she laughed. “You wouldn’t take my money for college, and I understand why you didn’t, even though I wish you hadn’t done what you did to earn the money you did for school, but I respect your decision. However, this you aren’t getting your way on.”
“As you wish,” Dillon teasingly sang.
Smart ass.
There’s something familiar about that. Where have I heard it before?
Must be a Montana thing.
After a few more hours of awkward silence, I was finally able to move my fingers and toes, and feeling started to return to my numb body.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled against the drool-saturated felt.
Suddenly Price was standing in front of me. “No, Mikhail, I’m sorry. I should have explained why I said that. I’m so sorry.”
This is going to be a pointless apology-go-round so you might as well end it now.
I shook my head. “Price, don’t mention it again, and I won’t either,” I said. “I don’t want to spend the next weeks or months or whatever repeating the same thing and sentiment until it holds no meaning and is just routine and a part of our lives that we never really got over and are harboring inside until we finally snap over something completely ridiculous and throw the past up in each other’s faces causing it to start all over again like a vicious cycle of stupidity. No thank you. We agree that we were both wrong, we both screwed the pooch, and we’re both sorry and over it. Agreed?”
Price looked slightly amused, irritated, but mainly saddened.
However, he couldn’t argue my logic, or he didn’t want to.
Or it could have been because my brilliant logic made no damn sense, either way it worked.
“Agreed,” he reluctantly said and nodded. “How’s your hand?”
“I want to go home,” I blurted out, trying to change the subject.
A smile filled his face. “Home? That sounds like a wonderful suggestion.”
Huh, home rolled off my tongue without any hesitation, which is a first, and I actually liked saying it. I have a home.
We have a home!
I’m not calling it home until he
tells us the truth.
Stop pouting, Bitch.
“Why are you crying?” Dillon whispered from the front seat of the truck.
I looked around, confused.
Yeah, I know. You’re out of it again.
I smiled. “I have a home.”
“You have issues,” she informed me, and Price glared at her. “What? She does. She knows she does. It ain’t like it’s a revelation. Besides, those without issues are linear and one dimensional, two at most, and Mikey is three or four dimensional, and I think that it’s awesome. Not many can boast that. Yes, your past sucks ass. Whose doesn’t? But it’s what you do with that ass suckage that matters.”
I laughed. “You’re so damn poetic when drunk.”
“You have no idea.” She smiled wide.
When we pulled up in front of the house, Shep and Nick were sitting on the front steps and neither of them looked very happy.
“They’re mad at me, huh?” I mumbled.
Where’s Dandy when you need the little bitch?
“No,” Price assured me.
“Where’s the bar towel? I need to throw a bullshit flag,” I scoffed.
Dillon laughed. “No flag this time. They aren’t mad at you, Mikey. Come on, let’s clean you up and get dinner. That pool table was questionable at best.”
We walked arm in arm towards the scowling men while Price put the truck in the garage.
“Striperella,” Shep hissed. “Oh wait, I’m sorry.” He fished something from his pocket and held it up. “Do I need to pay you now or later for your attention?” he asked, waving the dollar bill at her.
Really?
Ooh, the puppy has some balls on him after all.
Dillon smiled, snatching the dollar. “If it isn’t Virgin Mary in all of his masturbating glory. Still whacking it to the Sears’ catalogue or have you finally moved on to Victoria’s Secret?”
That’s funny.
I like her even more now.
“I had to stay within mail order undies,” he said. “I was too scared of coming across a picture of you all sprawled out with that wide butt of yours up in the air. You know, since that’s what most strippers move onto.”
“Aw, and here I thought you didn’t care,” she said, wiping away a pretend tear. “Have you found Mr. Right yet, or are you just settling for Mr. Right-Now?”
Told you he was gay!
He isn’t gay, shut up.
Shep rolled his eyes. “I can’t walk down Main Street without running into at least ten dudes that have seen your boobs, so the options were few and far and in-between.”
“Well then, since you aren’t using them, can I have my pink leather ass-less chaps back?” Dillon asked as she studied her nails. “You know, just in case this teaching gig doesn’t work out. Wait, did you bedazzle them? I warned you the last time you did that to my damn halter top that I’d kick your ass if I got my shit back bedazzled.”
“You know, it’s a shame,” he said, shaking his head, “there are rumors that pole dancing may become an Olympic event. You could have brought home the gold!”
Dillon laughed. “When asked if they would participate, most strippers said they would only compete in the Olympics to pay for college. Dude, could you imagine me on a box of Wheaties, stripper pole and all?!”
Shep laughed. “Touché. My big sister, future Olympic pole dancing gold medalist. I think I can handle that.”
Wait, what?
Sister and brother… Huh, that explains it.
I like her better than him. Dandy can still have him.
“Truce?” Dillon asked with a smirk.
“For now.” Shep smirked in return, and they looked like twins for a fraction of a second. “Ready for dinner, or did you want to wash the skank... I mean stank off of you first?”
“Ha ha.” She punched him in the arm, sending him staggering back. “Shower, dinner and a premature game night sounds good... Premature, you know a little something about that, don’t you, Hairy Palms? Daddy.” She smirked at Nick in passing and escorted me into the house. “Go get cleaned up and act as if nothing happened and that you just needed to clear your head and you didn’t realize that you wandered as far away from the hospital as you did,” she whispered in my ear as we headed up the stairs.
I nodded then hurried to my room to shower.
When I exited the bathroom dressed in some sweats and an old soccer shirt, I jumped back, my hands covering my mouth to stifle the shriek.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Price said with his back to me, his attention out the window.
“It’s okay,” I assured him, trying to catch my breath. “Can I help you with something?”
Okay, that was overly formal and totally awkward. Way to hide that you’re hiding something, Sis.
Shut up! This is usually your thing, where you step in.
Not this time. I’m still mad at him.
“I’d like to look at your hand, if that’s okay,” Price said.
Damn it.
Not even home for an hour and it’s about to become my ex-home. No one wants a freak like me hanging around.
“I’d rather you not,” I whispered, wrapping my arms behind me.
He turned around then sat on the window seat, resting his elbows on his knees and looked up at me with those clear brown eyes of his. “Why?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t want to be touched.”
It wasn’t a total lie.
It’s a shitty stall tactic.
Price pulled a small knife from his pocket and looked at it, turning it over in his hands.
Is it possible to kill someone with a pocketknife?
I don’t remember hearing about that on the news.
“I’ve had this,” he started, “a gift passed down throughout my family, our family, for countless generations. A tree of life.” His thumb caressed over the carved wood handle. “But only a half of a tree since ours is barren of soil. For centuries we’ve only had males born. Dilly...Dillon is Shep’s half-sister from his mother’s side, not that it’s important, but it shows the importance of your birth.
“Throughout history crowns have been secured through male heirs, birthrights and names are passed down through the males, and security and stability are built upon the roots of men. However, that tree, that foundation needed to support life, is the women. And our curse, the bane of our legacy, has been all male heirs, and it threatens to uproot our family tree. Mikhail, you are the precious hope that we have been waiting countless generations for and to think of you gone from us, it kills us…it kills me! I love you. I loved the idea of you, the thought of you, the hope of you, but never did I imagine the reality to feel like this. You are my heart and my biggest fear, and I don’t think I could handle your rejection so I have tried to keep things from you, things that you have noticed and have countless questions about, in an attempt at keeping you for my own selfish reasons. But it’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry for that.”
Price unfolded the silver blade then ran it across the palm of his hand.
“What are you doing?!” I demanded.
He held his hand up to show me.
The demonically sharp blade cut into his flesh, slicing through it as if it was nothing, leaving a long bleeding wound that ran the entire length of his hand.
But as quickly as it started to bleed, the skin pulled together on its own, from the top and bottom, mending to the middle, leaving no sign of a scar. He looked up at me and forced a smile that fell before it even began.
“We are one in the same,” he whispered.
I looked from his hand to mine, at the smooth skin that was so gruesomely different a few hours ago.
“What are we?” I whispered.
For my entire life, I’ve wondered that. I was always scared when I’d watch cuts suddenly heal, bruises fade in only minutes, holes and tears in my flesh appear smooth and scar free without any prolonged healing. They hurt, of course they hurt, but the pain is only a faint
afterthought once the source is no longer visible.
“It’s hard to explain.” Price put the knife away and looked at his hands. “And I’m not entirely sure that I can right now. Can you give me some time to organize my thoughts?” he whispered.
I laughed, startling him, and he looked up at me.
“Take your time.” I laughed again. “Seriously, take all the time in the world. I’ve been freaking out about you calling the po-po or selling me to medical research because of that little hiccup of mine…of ours, and I was seriously scared there for a minute. This is a relief.”
I hopped up on the bed, and he stared at me with wide eyes.
“Price, you have to remember I’ve always thought that I was some kind of freak. Well I am, but now I know that I’m not completely freakish on my own, and that I’m in good company. Can the others do it?” I asked, as if it wasn’t a big deal and we were discussing the weather.
It’s better than freaking out.
I know, right? This is a total relief.
He shook his head. “No. That’s why I wasn’t sure if you’d heal or not because your wounds weren’t closing up, and I was worried,” he admitted. “Obviously you inherited some of my questionable genetic traits.”
Interesting way of putting it.
“Like what?” I asked. “Do you have a hidden personality that rears its head when you can’t afford for it to?”
Price laughed. “No. Your ability to read people you got from me. Your temper…that stands out most of all.” He smirked. “You really need to learn to control it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll add it to the ever growing list,” I said, making a face.
He chuckled. “Thanks. Are we, as you young people say, cool?”
And I fell off the bed laughing. “Oh my God. Please, I beg of you, don’t say that again. Coming from you, it sounds as wrong as asking a nun how to give a blowjob. Seriously, wrong.”
“That’s a mental picture I could have done without,” he complained.
“And you’re welcome for it!” I smiled wide, and he chuckled. “We’re cool. Justice is still irritated at you, but she’ll get over it. Sometimes it’s hard to admit when you’re wrong, especially for us, but she’ll get there and get over it. We’ve been so scared that you’d freak out about the healing thing, amongst other things. But I think we were most scared of you giving up on us and sending us back to the only life we’ve ever known. Yes, you say you wouldn’t, but after that shit with Soren and the way it made us feel, it made me aware that some deep-rooted fears won’t go away overnight even though we’ve been trying. We’re still not confident that you won’t deport us for being as broken as we are, but we’re hoping you don’t.”