Leaving His Mark

by T A. McKay

  I open my eyes and see my mum standing in front of me smiling. She watches me as I have fun. I start to lose height and I stop pumping my legs bringing the swing to a stop. I run over and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tightly against my body. She kisses my head before she speaks,

  “We need to go, sweetheart. We need to get you cleaned up before dinner.” She says dinner but I know she means before my dad gets home. We need to make sure everything is perfect before he gets here, the littlest thing can make him angry.

  I take her hand and we leave the park. I have had the best day ever, we ate ice cream and played at the park, and I met a friend and we got to play in the sand pit. My shoes are full of sand but I don’t care. We spent hours just making sand castles and knocking them down.

  When we reach our street I drop my mum’s hand and run towards our front door. I rush inside the house, not even realising that the front door is unlocked when it shouldn’t be. I’m almost at the stairs when I hear his voice, fear rushing through my body.

  “Gabe. Get your arse back here now!” He sounds angry and I feel tears immediately build in my eyes. I can’t cry, I'm a big boy. It makes daddy angry when I cry. I turn slowly coming face to face with him.

  “Look at the mess of this floor. You’ve left fucking sand everywhere. Dammit boy, get this shit cleaned up now.” I look up when I hear my mum coming through the door slightly breathless. She walks in front of me blocking my view.

  “That was my fault, David. I told him to go and get cleaned up for dinner. Gabe, take your shoes off and run and get in the shower. I will clean up the floor for you.” I go to step away from my hiding place behind Mum when his voice booms again.

  “Don’t move, Gabe. Melissa, this is his mess so he’ll clean it up. Why don’t you understand I'm trying to teach him not to be a loser? If he makes a fucking mess he’ll clean it. Now you get your arse in the kitchen and make dinner and let me deal with this.” My mum doesn’t move from in front of me but I wish she would. If I just clean up the mess Dad will just shout for a while and then he’ll go to his office like always. He gets angrier when we argue with him.

  My mum’s hand pushes against my shoulder and she urges me to go upstairs but I'm stuck in place, too scared to move. She turns to me and kisses my head, whispering into my ear,

  “Go up the stairs, sweetheart. Don’t come down until I come and get you, okay?” I look into her eyes and try to see what to do, I don’t want to leave. I take a step away from her, not dropping my eyes her. She nods and I turn, placing my foot onto the first step before I’m grabbed by strong hands.

  “David, no!” Is all I hear before I am dragged across the hall to the living room. I hear my mum rushing after us, begging my dad to let me go but I know it’ll make no difference. I should’ve just let him shout at me, this is all my fault. If I didn’t make him so angry he wouldn’t act like this, I know I should be a good boy.

  We stop next to the coffee table and I close my eyes. I know what’s going to happen so I just stand there, waiting to be told what to do. I hear him undoing his belt, the sound making my body tremble. I can still hear my mum by the sofa begging, telling my dad to take it out on her, that it’s her fault not mine and I wish she would stop. If she keeps talking he is going to hit her and that will make me sad. I'm a big boy, I can take this. I often wonder if my friends are brave when they get punished by their dads. They don’t talk about it so they must. I hear a slap and my mum’s body falls onto the sofa. I drop my head, this is all my fault.

  “Get into position, boy. I wish I didn’t have to do this but you need to learn.” Tears drip down my cheeks as I push my shorts and underwear around my knees, bending over and lying across the coffee table. I sob when I hear his footsteps walking behind me. This is going to hurt so bad, the last time I couldn’t sit properly for three days.

  The first hit connects and I hold onto the table harder, forcing myself not to run away. If I move I always get an extra few hits so it’s not worth it. Tears continue to flow down my cheeks as he hits me, the pain on my bum nearly unbearable.

  “Get off me, Melissa. Stop fucking sticking up for him all the time.” As he shouts at my mum I stand and pull up my shorts, trying to avoid rubbing the material over the painful skin. I turn and look, seeing my dad gripping my mum by the throat. I go into panic mode. He’s trying to kill her, her face is red and her hands are trying to pull my his hands away. I rush forward, my pain completely forgotten and grab at my dad’s arms trying to get him to let go, to let her breathe.

  “Please, Daddy. Let her go, she can’t breathe.” I’m sobbing for another reason now. Fear is controlling my body, I'm blind to everything but getting his hands off her.

  I don’t see the hand that comes flying towards me until it connects with my face. I lose my grip on my dad’s arm and fall backwards. The only thing I'm thinking is that it’s going to hurt when I land, the red hot strips on my bum are already burning, the floor’s going to make them worse. I don’t have to worry about connecting with the floor as I meet the table first. I catch the edge of it and the pain that rips through my arm makes me light headed and sick. I cry out, the pain far too much to stay quiet. I lie on the ground listening to my dad shout at me, at my mum but I'm finding it hard to focus. The room is spinning and I just want to sleep, to block out the pain. My dad grabs my arm, dragging me to a standing position and that’s when the world goes dark.

  I wake with a gasp. There’s sweat rolling down my body and my heart’s racing like I’ve just run ten miles. I throw the sheet off my body and sit at the edge of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees. Scrubbing my hands over my face I try to get rid of the last traces of the nightmare. I rub my arm, phantom pain flowing through it even after all these years. It was the first time he had broken one of my bones but it wouldn’t be the last. He’d told the hospital that I’d fallen off the climbing frame at the park and they had accepted his story. I just stayed quiet and let him speak. There would be no point in telling them the truth. My dad is many things and convincing is one of them. He managed to hide what he was doing to us until the day he went too far and there was no way to conceal it anymore.

  I get up and make my way to the kitchen. I need a drink, take some time to calm myself before trying to go back to sleep. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a long drink. I stand at the window next to the back door and look out over the dark garden. The view was one of the main reasons I chose this house. I live right on the edge of the town, roughly a twenty minutes drive from my shop which is in the centre of town, but the house is worth the drive. There are only two other houses next to mine and the rest is just open fields, it’s all you can see for miles and I love the feeling of being alone.

  I stand by the window for a long time, taking deep breaths and calming my heart rate. I start thinking about the tattoos I'm working on, anything to clear my mind. Thinking of the designs soothes me, the cleanness of the line, the blending of the colours, it all makes for happier thoughts. Thinking of the shop makes my mind drift to Rhys. I still can’t believe what happened between us but it's more than that, I can’t actually believe I managed to walk away from her. The pull towards her is something that I have never felt before. I throw my now empty bottle into the recycling bin as I try to get my mind off Rhys, leaving the kitchen while I wonder why it was on her in the first place. It’s not that I don’t like women, it’s just that no one has ever interested me enough for me to think about them for anything more than a quick fuck.

  I make my way down the hall back to my room, yawning I slip back into my bed, enjoying the coolness of the sheets. I leave them sitting around my waist as I try to escape the heat of the night. I place my arm under my head against my pillow and get comfortable, staring at the ceiling above. I feel my eyes growing heavier as my mind drifts to thoughts of a certain woman. Why am I thinking about her? Why are her green eyes the last thing I see before I give in to sleep?

  ****

  I'm sitting
in my office waiting on my last client of the day. There’s still an hour left before they’re due to arrive so I’m taking the opportunity to catch up on ordering more supplies. I’m so bad at this, my brain isn’t really built for this part of the business and it takes me longer than it should. My tally of the gloves won’t match and I’ve counted it three times now. I groan and throw my pencil across my office, dramatic I know, but it makes me feel better. I'm just about to get up and retrieve it when there is a knock on the door. I look up to see Rhys standing just outside. I smile and motion her into the room.

  “Hey, what’s up?” She looks down at her feet like she doesn’t want to make eye contact. I have noticed that she’s been awkward around me all day and I don’t like it, I don’t want her to ever be embarrassed around me. There is no need for her to ever feel like that round me and she needs to know.

  “I was wondering if I could leave a little early tonight?” I immediately wonder if she wants to avoid being around me on her own. Shit, I have screwed up more than I thought. I should have taken the time to talk to her this morning to make sure she was okay. I rack my brain trying to find something to say, something to make this moment less awkward.

  “Do you have more reading to do?” I see a smile tug at the edges of her mouth as she looks up at me, her eyes warming. That’s the look I’ve missed today, the look that says she’s ready to have some fun.

  “No, I don’t have any reading. Well actually I might later, but I need to leave because I just got a message about a delivery. I don’t know what it is so I need to be there when it arrives.” She walks further into my office and stops just before my desk, her hand in the pockets of her shorts. I try to keep my eyes off her slim legs but it’s near impossible. The way her hand is pulling at the material of the front of her shorts has made the hem rise a few inches and it’s close to the very top of her thighs. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, damn I love the confidence she has.

  “Do you often get things delivered and not know what they are?” Her forehead scrunches up like she’s thinking and it makes me more curious.

  “No, not normally. But…well the last few weeks I’ve been getting packages and letters in the post. I must have a secret admirer.” She fakes a laugh but I can hear her nerves behind it and I make a mental note to ask her more about these packages later.

  “Sounds mysterious. Okay, just get tidied up and you can head out. I only have the one client left and I'm sure I can sort them myself.” I pause for a second. “Actually can you come in an hour early tomorrow to sort out what I fuck up?” She laughs again and I can see that it is more relaxed this time, more natural. She starts walking backwards to the door when the phone on my desk rings and just as she’s leaving she shouts over her shoulder to me,

  “Do not touch my computer. Do not touch my appointment book. Take the money and put it in the drawer…do nothing else.” I laugh at her retreating form. Yeah, she really does know how bad I am with technology.

  I lift the receiver cutting of the annoying ringing.

  “Gabe Ryan, Virgin Ink.” I lean back on my chair and prop my feet up on my desk.

  “I swear you always sound like you’re pissed off.” I smile when I hear his voice.

  “Uncle Greg, it’s been too long. How are you?” It has been about a month since I last spoke to my Uncle and I know I'm going to get grief for it.

  “Oh, so you do know how long it’s been? I thought you had been kidnapped and you weren’t aware of how long they had held you. Maybe locked in a basement … with no phones … or computers.” I laugh as I listen to him trying to make his point. I try to talk to him as much as possible but with my dad attempting to get in contact with me it’s too hard. There are too many memories haunting me and I scared I might lose my mind.

  “Finished?” I hear him huff, my uncle really is too easy to wind up.

  “Yes … for now. I just miss you and I want to hear from you more.” I feel bad listening to him speak. Greg doesn’t have anyone else in his life, he never married or had kids, well at least until he got a very angry fourteen-year-old boy left on his doorstep. Then, as soon as I turned sixteen I ran away from him. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t regret it, but at the time I needed to, my fear was messing with my head. I couldn’t see that was trying to help me, that he wasn’t the same as my dad even though they were twins. I think that’s what had me living in constant fear, his face. It was like looking at my dad every day, waiting for him to get angry at me and lash out.

  “I’m sorry, I promise to call more. The shop has just been really busy, I'm in high demand these days.” I hear his laughter and I smile. I really do need to call him more, he’s the only family I have left that I am willing to spend time with. As much as I love to hear from him he doesn’t normally call me at work and wonder what’s wrong.

  “So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” My question is met with silence and my stomach clenches waiting on what he’s going to say.

  “Your dad called.” I close my eyes feeling the blood pulse through my head. This isn’t the type conversation I want to have, especially at work.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Please don’t be like that, Gabe. Why can’t you just hear him out? He’s really sorry about what happened and he wants to talk to you. He’s scared you hate him.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

  “He killed my mum, trust me when I say I do hate him.” The words are said quietly but when I hear him sigh I know heard me. We have the same discussion every time he calls. He wants me to talk to my dad but I just can’t. My dad ruined my entire life and it started a long time before he killed my mum.

  “Gabe, please? He just wants to talk. He has to live with what he’s done every single day. Can’t you give him just a few hours?” As I sit and listen to the man who raised me for two years after Mum’s funeral, the man who gave me more in those two years than what my dad ever did. I should do this for him, to ease his pain but I just don’t know if I can. My world crumbles when I hear his voice on my answering machine, I don’t know what would happen if I had to actually look at him.

  “I don’t know, Uncle Greg. I just…I don’t know if I can.” We sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of us not knowing what to say. I hear the bell above the main door of the shop going signalling that my client had arrived.

  “I need to go, Uncle. My last client’s just turned up.” I hear another sigh before he speaks. I know this situation causes him stress that he doesn’t need. I understand he’s torn between his brother and his nephew But I didn’t create this situation and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

  “Ok, son. Just call me soon, okay?” I say goodbye to him and leave my office for my next appointment, thankful that I have something to distract me.

  I open the door to see the deliveryman standing there.

  “Rhys Alexander?” I nod my head and he passes me the tablet to sign before he hands over a large brown box. I say thanks before heading back inside to see what it is. I wasn’t lying to Gabe when I told him I didn’t know what it was but after the last few weeks I shouldn’t be surprised. I have been receiving things from someone unknown, apparently I have a secret admirer. I’ve had everything from flowers to chocolates, jewellery to perfume and teddy bears to underwear. I have to admit it’s getting a creepy now and I wish I knew who was behind it. It’s not just my home address they have either, I’ve had cards and letters delivered at work. This person has too much information on me.

  I walk to my living room and put the box on my table. As always there is no return address and the box is plain brown, giving no clues as to who it’s from or where it came from. I pull the tape from the top and roll it into a ball before opening the top and carefully looking in. I let the breath I’d been holding out when I see that it’s just another teddy. I have myself convinced that one of these times it’s going to be a bomb or a dead animal. Yeah it’s official, I rea
d too many books. I reach in and take out the teddy and look at it. It’s kind of cute with its pink fur and the ‘I love you’ heart it’s holding, but its eyes look odd and I feel like it’s staring at me. I walk over to the bookshelf in the corner of my living room and place it on a shelf, up high where I won’t see it too often. I know I could put it in the bin but I hate wasting anything when there is nothing wrong with it.

  I grab the box off the table and walk through the kitchen, folding it up to put it into the recycling when a card falls out. I finish folding the box before grabbing the envelope. I walk over and turn on the kettle while I open it and read the message.

  ‘Another sign of my love to you. I think I want to tell you soon who I am. I’ve seen the way you look at me and I know you feel this too. I can’t wait until we’re together … you will be mine gorgeous.’

  I shiver as I read the words. What does he mean I look at him? Is this someone I know? I slide down the front of the fridge until I'm sitting on the floor and I grab my knees trying to make myself as small as possible. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this scared again in my life. I guess I was wrong.

  Chapter Six

  “Woman.” I jump in my seat as the loud voice booms behind me. I’ve been jumpy since I received the last letter from my creepy admirer, although even if I hadn’t received anything Clay’s voice would of still scared me. Damn, it would have scared a Navy Seal. I turn and look at him.

  “What’s so important that you have to give me a heart attack?” His laughter reaches me before he does. He sits on the edge of my desk and I'm pretty sure I just heard a creak. I move back slightly making sure that my legs aren’t under the desk, you know, just in case it collapses.