Fight for You

by Charisse Spiers

  I dig my feet into the floor and push forward, inching my body away from the cage to give myself some space. I swing again, jarring my fist into his cheek as hard as I can, blood spatting out with his spit. He releases me and jumps back, trying to get himself together. This is bullshit. I should have won this by now. I love you, Haddox. Give me a reason to stay.

  My eyes close at the sound of her voice in my head. "Because I want you to," I whisper, and a fist slams into my jaw, snapping my neck to the side. My vision starts to blur as my body wavers from side to side and for the first time in a fight, everything starts to fade to black.

  I step out of the cab and look at the rotting house before me. It's still wrapped in the yellow police tape labeled- do not cross. The only difference in the way it looked nine years ago and today is the various colors of graffiti spray painted all over the white wood. I grab ahold of the strap to my duffle bag hanging across my body. It's ironic. I left here with nothing but a duffle bag and returned the same way.

  I grab the bill of my ball cap and pull it further down my forehead, trying to hide behind it. I lost by knockout last night for the first time since I ran away from here. Nothing is as it is before. Piper came barreling into my life and knocked everything inside me loose. All I can think about is her. It's shadowing over everything else...even him.

  When I came to last night and the fight was over, I was so mad that I needed to get out of the city. I need to think before I try to talk to Piper. I need to understand why my world is crashing down around me. The only thing that made sense was coming back to the place it all started: this hellhole in Minnesota.

  I turn to look at the driveway and I can vision that day as if it were yesterday. That silver Honda pulling into the drive is so vivid that I start to anger inside. I watch the memory in my head as I talk to Breanna in that car, watching her cry as I tell her goodbye. She was supposed to go with the plan...and none of this would have happened the way it did. I was just going to go inside and gather my things. I figured my old man would be passed out. I was supposed to get in and out undetected. It was my way of telling him to fuck off, because he could no longer report me as a runaway. I made it to eighteen and graduated high school; I made it out alive.

  My foot steps forward toward the front porch. I need to do this. I need closure. I need freedom from him. Without hesitation I make it all the way up the sidewalk and climb what's left of the steps. There are holes in the wood from where it finally gave way. The smell burns my nose hair, bringing back memories I need to finally free, so they'll stop haunting me.

  I grab the rusted handle of the screen door, pulling it open. It makes a rickety sound as it opens. I grab the handle to the dingy wooden door and turn it. It isn't locked; most likely because it looks like a stash house or a crack house now. I'd be surprised if it wasn't. Who else would come here? As I push open the door I take a deep breath and walk inside. The memories flood my mind as I take everything in. It still looks the exact same way that I left it with the addition of the police investigation shit. It still plagues me why I was never questioned. I lived scared for years before it started eating me alive with the guilt.

  I walk into the living room and look at that old recliner that he used to sit in. Everything is dark except for the light coming through the windows. I can still visualize him sitting there in front of the TV with whatever alcohol he could muster...or something worse. Somehow he ended up on disability, drawing money from the government. Between the utilities and the alcohol or drugs there was no money for food. I had to do whatever work I could find to feed the two of us.

  I grab a flashlight sitting on the TV stand to my side and throw it at the family portrait of us behind his chair from before my mother left; the only memory he allowed of her to remain. "Fuck you! I fucking hate you! A parent is supposed to take care of their kid, not beat him until there is nothing left but a breathing body. I never did anything to you," I cry out, barely able to breathe from the screaming. "I was your son. I was your fucking son." My voice breaks as the last line escapes my mouth, followed by tears. I haven't cried in years, but I can't hold them back being here.

  I can see him just as if he were a ghost. He sits there, his fat ass propped up in that chair, pouring liquor down his throat as fast as he can. I never could figure out what happened to him. There was a time when he was a decent man...before she left. The only reason I remember is because I was six; old enough for long term memory to develop. For such a nosey and small town, no one could find a story when it came to my parents. It makes no damn sense.

  I lace my hands on top of my head as the tears fall down my face. "I never wanted to kill you, Dad. It wasn't part of the plan. No matter how much you hated me or how much you hit me, you were still my father. I still wanted you to live. It didn't matter to me that you were a piece of shit. I didn't think it was worth dying over. I was just going to leave so you didn't have to deal with me anymore. You just kept coming at me. I was tired of doing nothing. I snapped. It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill you," I whisper. "Kids shouldn't have to defend themselves from their parents. It isn't natural. It shouldn't be that way."

  I place the heels of my hands over my eyes, trying to stop the tears. My eyes burn. Coming here isn't solving anything. I need to go. "Anyway. I just came here to say that I'm sorry. It will never take back what I did, but I refuse to be like you. I'm tired of living my life in hatred, so I'm putting an end to it...today. I don't hate you anymore, Dad. I'm sure you got what you deserved for what you did and so did I. I'll live with the guilt of that night for the rest of my life, but I found someone that loves me...and she deserves better than the man I've been. For the first time in my life someone actually loves me. You never taught me how to love, so I'll have to depend on someone else to teach me how to love in return, but it's something I want to give her...if she'll forgive me. I've let you rule and ruin my life for twenty-seven years. I'm exhausted. I forgive you for what you did, even if you didn't ask for it. Rest in peace, Dad."

  I turn and head back for the front door. I don't need to see the rest of this house. This place is branded in my mind, showing itself in my nightmares. I've seen it enough to last me a lifetime.

  I shove the screen door and walk outside, halting with who’s before me. I would recognize her anywhere. She looks exactly the same as she did the day I walked away from her at the bus station. She's standing on the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps, as beautiful as the last time I saw her. That girl is like my sister. It's been a long time. My only question is what the fuck is she doing here?

  "Breanna."

  "Haddox...it's been a long time. I was wondering when you would come home."

  "This isn't my home. It hasn't been for a long time. There is just something that I needed to do. You look good, Bree, but why are you here?"

  Her strawberry blonde hair is longer than I remember, falling to the middle of her back, and she's more filled out now. She's small, but curvy. Her green eyes were always her selling feature, because unlike the bigger percentage of redheads she has an olive complexion, making her colors blend better, accentuating the color of her hair instead of making it stand out. Her lips are thin instead of full and she's taller than most girls, but not tall enough to model like Piper.

  "We moved here about a year ago when Mama got sick. She died last month, but I can't bring myself to leave yet. I guess now I know why. I've been looking for you for a long time, Haddox."

  I feel like an asshole. I should have checked on her from time to time, but I just felt like it was better for us both to move on. Breanna always viewed our relationship a little more romantic than I did. To me it was a fucked up relationship, but nothing more than friends.

  "I live in New York. I ended up there when I left here and just never saw fit to leave. I've built a life there. I've just been dealing with some shit lately. I needed to clear my head."

  She smiles slightly, moving forward slowly as if afraid I'm going to run. She holds out her hand for
me to take. "There's a new diner in town I've been wanting to try. Will you come eat lunch with me? I think there's a lot that needs to be said."

  I stare at her hand, trying to decide if I should do this or not. Honestly I'm ready to go home. I don't belong here. I left this place behind nine years ago. I miss the firecracker in love with fashion that first hooked me with her body and then with her mind and personality. I can honestly say I never thought I'd miss a woman, but I do. I fucked up with her. I want to find a way to fix it, but I just don't know how yet. To return and beg her back means I have to tell her everything, and that's something I have no idea how to do. The thought of her being scared of me or hating me kills me inside, but it's always a risk when it comes to a confession. I think I need to do it for me as much as I need to do it for her.

  "I can give you lunch, Bree, but nothing more. I'm not here to stay. I'm getting the first flight out as soon as this is done. Are we clear?"

  "Of course, Haddox. I can understand that."

  I take her hand and follow her to the Lexus SUV sitting at the end of the drive. I have no idea how she even knew I was here. I didn't think I saw anyone around when I arrived.

  Opening the door I toss my bag on the floorboard and sit in the passenger seat, waiting for her to round the car. I look back at the car seats in the backseat as she gets inside. "I see you got your happily ever after."

  She stares straight ahead as she starts the vehicle. "I don't know if I would call it that, but it's definitely a nice trade in from a nightmare."

  "Is he good to you, Bree?"

  I watch as she takes a deep breath and pulls out into the road, heading down the narrow street. "He's a good man and I love him. He's been with me through some tough days, but there will always be something missing with him. He's not the one that my heart wants at the end of the day."

  She stops there and I don't push her for more information. That's not a conversation that I want to dive into, because I have a feeling she's referring to me. It has nothing to do with cockiness. We've had similar conversations before so it wouldn't be the first time. It always ends the same way. I don't want her the way she wants me. I'm not going to feel guilty when it's been the same way for years. We both know it. It breaks me down that she loves me that way, but there is also nothing I can do about it. It’s not that she isn’t attractive. She’s beautiful, but it’s just not there with her. That isn’t something I can control. I stayed away from her for nine years. I had no idea she'd be here today.

  "What about you? Is there someone?"

  I continue to look ahead as she pulls into a small restaurant. It reminds me of the old time diners with the way it's mostly windows beside every booth. "There is.... if she will take me back once I get back to the city. I kind of did something stupid, which is one of the reasons that I'm here."

  She parks, but makes no effort to immediately exit the vehicle. I look over at her. She's staring at me. She has a saddened expression on her face. "Don't beat yourself up, Haddox. When you come from a shitty background it's easy to do stupid things. God only knows how many I've done in my marriage, but if she's the one she'll turn a blind eye to it, because that's what you do when you love someone. It just took me a long time to realize that my past doesn't have to follow me into my future. For that to happen there were things I needed to know to move on, which is why I think we need to have this conversation. I'm sure she's a lucky girl if she got you. Your attention wasn't that easy to grasp. I should know. I tried ‘til the day you made me leave."

  I grab the bill of my hat and rub it up and down on my forehead, trying to distract myself. Maybe there is something I need to say. Fuck, I don't know. I turn toward her. "Breanna, I'm sorry that I don't feel the same way about you. I tried for years because you were my best friend and you were important to me. Your safety was important to me. It's why I did what I did and never looked back. It's why I still do the things that I do now, but I don't love you that way, Bree. I need to know that you're going to be okay for the rest of your life without me."

  She looks down at my forearm and notices the ink inscribed down them with her name on one. She looks back at me, but then starts to back out the car. "Where are you going?"

  "I just realized a public place isn't where we need to discuss this. The things we need to talk about need to be somewhere that no one else can hear. I'll take you to the airport when this is finished, but it has to be done. I couldn't move on with my life until I knew it and from the looks of you, you haven't either."

  She no longer drives like a soccer mom. She spins her wheels as if she's got something heavy on her mind. I hold my tongue and the handle by the window, because I'm sure the discussion of that night is coming. I came here to let it go, so I might as well kill two birds with one stone and then leave it all behind.

  She pulls onto a long dirt road and I immediately know where she's going. She's going to the place we used to go when we needed to run away for a while. No one came here, because since old man Harold passed, none of his kids could stomach it. He was one of those guys that changed the entire town when he went, because he was kind to everyone. His old house still sits in the exact same spot. Since it was Breanna's grandfather we could come here without getting picked up for trespassing.

  This was our place to be free, but we were always together, which is probably why we started fucking every time we came here. When a teenage boy and girl are left alone away from parents and trying to forget everything else, feeling good for a while just becomes a necessity.

  She pulls around that old tree that marks the middle of the circle drive and stops in front of the old, abandoned house. Shutting off the vehicle, she steps out and walks toward the house. I run my hand over my face as I look at the rocking chairs on the porch. It's strange how things can look the exact same so many years later.

  I open the door and get out of the car, shutting it behind me. She's already halfway around the house when I start to follow her. At least she's not going inside. Some memories are better left in the past. I already feel wrong for being alone with the only other woman that I've had sex with repeatedly, in the very place those activities used to take place. Technically, I'm a free man and what I do here today can't be judged. I used to escape through casual sex with no problem, but it's not even a thought right now. My dick doesn't work anymore unless it's near or around Piper Morgan. I know that Piper told me it was over, but I still feel like I belong to her and her to me. It's fucking insane how things can change in such a short amount of time.

  I reach the back of the house and she's halfway down the pier. It's silent, except for the natural sounds always present. She sits at the edge and turns toward me. I’m now standing at the end on the grass. She pats the aged wood next to her, requesting my company.

  I place one foot on the pier and it dips as the weight shifts. It's not a pier burrowed into the ground floor. It's a floating pier that he made himself. It was one of those side jobs that he paid me to help him with when I was just a kid, so I didn't starve. Harold is how I also first met Breanna before I figured out she lived down the street. We just rarely spoke until the night I found her, the night that started it all between us. Harold knew what was going on at home, but there was nothing he could do, except help me out when I needed it.

  I walk to the end of the pier and sit next to Breanna, looking out at the pond it sits on. "I haven't seen this place in a while."

  "It was the first place I came when I came home to take care of Mama. I almost didn't come back, but I decided I needed to put my shit behind me. Regret is something that you can't change. I didn't want to look back ten years from now and regret not seeing my mother before she died. In the end I'm glad I did, because I found out some things that I wouldn't have otherwise."

  "I'm sorry about your mother, but knowing what went on in her house it's hard to have sympathy. You were just a kid, Bree, and she was your mother. You're supposed to protect your kids from that kind of evil."

  "That's true, bu
t in the end she made up for it."

  I look at her. "What do you mean?"

  She grabs my hand in hers, but continues to look out at the murky water. "Have you ever wondered why the police never came looking for us after that night? Not even just for questioning.... I mean think about it, Haddox. Your dad and my step dad in the same night...murdered. We both disappeared. It raises questions just thinking about it."

  My chest starts to rise and fall rapidly. The guilt is starting to take over. Now that I've allowed myself to feel, it's consuming me. My life was easier when I blocked it all out, letting the hatred overshadow everything else. "I have a few times. Why? What are you saying?"

  "What I'm about to tell you is very much real. You can read the police report if you want. I had to for myself. For years Mama didn't call me but about once a year. I thought she didn't care until she called me to tell me that she was dying. Her only request was for me to see her until she was gone. She wanted to make up for things she couldn't control then. At first I hated her for even asking me to come back to this hellhole, but something told me to give her a chance, because I knew from her tone she wasn't going to beg. Brian being the amazing man that he is up and moved with no questions asked, starting his own firm here."

  She takes a deep breath and continues. "Do you remember how close Pop Harold was to Sheriff Taylor?"

  I nod. He was old, but he stayed the sheriff until he was on his deathbed. He didn't take shit off of anyone. He also told me one night when the deputies picked the two of us up at the train station that if I could stick it out with my dad until the day I turned eighteen he could call them to pick me up and they could no longer help him. Until then I was a minor and his hands were tied.

  "About a week before Mama died she asked me to bring her out here. She said that she wanted to see this place one last time before she went, because she knew that it was coming soon. She was weak and in so much pain. Her organs were already shutting down one by one, so I did..."