“Amber, darling, are you okay?” My mom yells up the stairs.
“Sweetheart she’s fine! Go ahead and answer the door, our guest has arrived and we don’t want to leave him waiting.” His grip on my scalp tightens. “Amber tripped and banged her shoulder against the door. I’ll make sure she’s okay and we’ll be down in a minute.”
His voice was so calm and nurturing, as a father should. The deceptive bastard! I hear the door open and close. I hear my mother greet Chase and tell him I will be down shortly. I hear their steps moving farther into the house and away from me. I hear nothing now, but my ragged breathing. I whimper in fear. I feel the hatred and anger pulsing behind me, like it is its own entity. Frightened is not the word I would use to describe my current state of mind. At this point I’m petrified!
“Do you think this is a game?” He grits out in my ear. I say nothing.
“Do you think I want to meet some pansy ass motherfucker who’s trying to replace me?” I remain silent.
“You better pray this bitch stays on leave because once she returns to work…..” He grinds himself against my backside. “We have some shit to work out.”
I tried to tell myself to remain quiet. But, how long am I supposed to stay his willing puppet? Yes, I am scared shitless. Although I’m terrified, I’m near to the end of my rope. What else can he possibly do to me with Chase and mom here in the house?
I want him to know that these last few months have boost my confidence, that I’ve grown stronger, that I am no longer his puppet! That I will not just lay here and take what he dishes out. I will not be his willing victim any longer.
In this moment, I decide that I’m done with cowering from ever blow and every hungry look directed at me. I am tired of being scared. I’ve felt my courage building since that day mom announced she was taking leave from work.
He releases my hair and turns me around so that we’re facing each other. I try to back away, but he roughly grabs my arm and halts my retreat. The satisfied look on his face at seeing me like this, looking like his victim, it angers me! I erupt.
“I am not your WOMAN, your GIRL, or YOUR PLAY THING! I am your DAUGHTER!” I grit out my response. He has the nerves to chuckle. “Keep your fucking hands off of me! No more…NO MORE….or, I swear to GOD…”
I am unable to finish the sentence. My back explodes in pain as I am slammed into my bedroom wall.
“Don’t pull that father daughter shit on me! That shit doesn’t pertain to us or our situation. The only time you will ever call me daddy is when I’m in you. When I’m claiming what is rightfully mine. Do you understand me?” He is in my face quietly yelling his words at me.
“You are my FATHER, you sick motherfucker! You think this is cool? Do you think that what you’re doing is, okay? It’s SICK! YOU’RE SICK!”
I’m panting and also quietly yelling. I’m frustrated that I have to keep reminding him that I’m his daughter, that his actions are despicable, that what he has forced me to do over the years is, unforgivable.
“I can’t wait for graduation. I will be moving so fast and so far from you and this house of horror! I’ll never look back. NEVER! I HATE YOU!”
At my words he releases me, turns his back and walks out of my room. I wish he was turning to walk out of my life completely, but I’m satisfied with him just exiting my room. I’ll take that.
This is the point when I start to question my mother’s parenting skills, her love for me. Sadly, not for the first time. I’m guessing ten minutes has gone by and she hasn’t come to check on me, to see if I’m okay. Am I okay? I’m cool! I’ll survive! I’ve dealt and endured worst. But….I just wish…
Fuck it! Fuck it all! Wishing is for little kids. Wishing is for kids who believe in fairytales, tooth fairies, and the Easter bunny. Whishing is for kids who look at their parents and envision capes attached to their backs. Because in their little innocent minds, mommy and daddy are a kickass superhero duo. Wishing is for sucka-ass kids with sucka-ass amazing, kick-ass, loving families! Wishing is for the non-inflicted, the innocent, and the lucky ones.
Wishing is not for a girl who grabs on to every second, every minute, every hour of her unseeing mothers time. Hoping that the cataract that has inflicted her motherly sight is removed from her faulty eyes; hoping that this removal will give her a miraculous gift of sight into my daily plight.
So yeah, FUCK WISHING! I’m settling for hope!
Chapter 17
(Chase Mitchell)
As the minutes tick by I’m starting to wonder where Amber is. Her mom is cool and all, but come on. I did not plan on having dinner with just her. When I hung up with Amber, she made it seem as if she would be meeting me as the door opened. What has it been ten, fifteen, twenty minutes?
“Excuse me Mrs. Wallace, but is everything okay? It’s been what, fifteen minutes and Amber isn’t down here with us.”
She gives me a smile that doesn’t really need words. I hear what’s plastered all over her face. I can hear it in my head as if her smile has words; isn’t that cute!
“Sorry Chase, I thought I mentioned it when you arrived. Before I answered the door she had a little accident.”
“What?” I jump up from my seat. “What happened, is she okay? Where is she?”
“Calm down Chase, she’s fine. She took a little tumble and banged herself up, her dad is seeing to her. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Do you mind if I go check on her?”
As I stand there I decide that I really don’t care if she gives me her approval or not. If it has taken this long there must be something terribly wrong. I turn towards the entry of the dining room and come face to face with a scowling man. In an instant I know this is the asshole the girls were telling me about.
This motherfucker just stands there without speaking. He stands there staring, frowning and drinking some sort of dark amber colored liquor in a crystal tumbler. I can tell when someone’s sizing me up and that’s exactly what this guy is doing. But, it’s fine, I’m man enough to take it.
I smile because intimidation never has affected me. Now, I take a page from Mrs. Wallace’s book and let my smile speak for me. It’s my turn for my smile to speak without words; Fuck you asshole! You dish the bullshit and I’ll serve it back to you. Open wide you pompous son-of-a-bitch!
I reach my hand out and offer it as another serving of, FUCK YOU and your intimidation. “Hi Mr. Wallace, my name is Chase Mitchell.”
My offered hand is ignored. He flicks his steely eyes to my offered hand and raises his hand to take a drink of the contents of his crystal tumbler, all the while he just stand there and stares. I lower my hand and take in this fool in front of me.
His dark complexion is a shade or two lighter than my chocolate skin tone. Maybe, two inches shorter than me and his build is stocky. He’s impeccably dressed in black slacks, crisp white button up, no tie, a couple buttons are undone around his neck and he is sporting a gold Rolex on his wrist. He’s sporting nice leather loafers and his hair is cut short to the scalp accompanied with a perfectly trimmed goatee. Yeah, this dude has asshole stamped all over him. My lips tip up in a slight smirk.
“You done sizing me up… little boy!” This was said with menace.
The shit kind of caught me off guard. Yes, he didn’t shake my hand. Yes, he gave me the stare down, but I didn’t expect him to open his fucking pie hole and go for my jugular right of the bat.
“Okay, Mr. Wallace….I mean no disrespect. I don’t usually go over someone’s house for the first time and get talked down to. This,” I point from him, me and also include Mrs. Wallace in my all-encompassing wave. “This, I am not used too. I was told I was invited for dinner. If it’s an issue, I’ll be more than happy to leave.”
He stands there and takes another swig from his glass of liquid courage.
“Listen here boy, I didn’t invite you. I was badgered into this goddamned dinner. Do you honestly think I would want to sit down with some random little punk who wants to�
��”
I could tell he was working himself up. Working himself up to what, I have no idea. And, for what? What confused me, is why would a parent act like this? I watch as he literally stands here and loses his fucking shit. He tilts his head back and downs the last of his drink. I see his arm rear back and the tumbler flies, impacts the wall and shatters into a million pieces.
“You SONOFABITCH! You think I’m going to break bread while you visualize fucking what is MINE! You think I’ll sit here and give you the okay to violate my shit!”
I look at this crazed motherfucker in shock. I’m pulled from my state of shock by a shrill voice.
“What is wrong with you?”
Mrs. Wallace stands in shock gawking at her husband. She turns to me and the apology and embarrassment is written all over her face. Yeah, I’m owed that for sure. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Better yet, what has my babe been enduring on a daily basis? One thing I know for sure is that, this is some straight up crazy shit!
“I’m sorry Chase! I’ve never seen him act like this. I apologize, he’s been sipping on whatever was in that tumbler all day and I think it has finally caught up to him.”
She turns to her husband who is standing there fuming and out of control.
“This young man has come to our home upon my request and this is how you act. I understand you being overprotective of our daughter, but this, this is just too much. Fucking and speaking of violating! Honestly, that girl is eighteen years old. It will be her decision regarding her body. Not yours! You have seriously crossed a line! I trust my child to make the right decisions, for her. Maybe you should too!”
“But, he…” He was unable to complete his sentence before Mrs. Wallace put her foot down.
“SHUT – IT - NOW! I will not have you speak to him in such a manner. Nor, will I have you speak of my child in such a way. I will advise you to walk up those steps and sleep off the alcohol you have clearly drank too much of. You have made a fool of yourself and I will not have you make a fool of me.”
At that, he turns and walks away. That is when I notice Amber standing stock still as if she is a part of the wall she is standing against. Our eyes connect and the string that has held her in place snapped. As the first tears escapes its embankment, I reach her and enfold her in my arms.
“Mrs. Wallace, do I have your permission to take Amber away for a few hours? I promise to have her home before curfew.”
“Go ahead. Amber, I apologize on behalf of your father. Come here.”
Amber leaves my embrace in exchange for her mothers. It breaks my heart to hear her cry, to see her cling to her mother in this broken down version of herself.
“Thanks mom.” She wails, as Mrs. Wallace rubs her back to sooth away the hurt.
“Your dad’s under a lot of stress lately. He will not tell me what’s going on. Unfortunately, he decide on this moment to crack. I promise it won’t happen again. He loves you…but this…I don’t know what to say…the only thing I know for sure is that he loves you, we both love you!”
She lets Amber go and walks out of the room. I grab ahold of my girl, as she clings to me I whisper into her ear.
“She might not know what to say, but I do. This shit is unacceptable! If he ever and I mean EVER flips out like that on you, I demand that you tell me ASAP!”
Never in my life have I witnessed a grown man throwing a temper tantrum. Today I must say, I’ve seen something new. One thing is for certain, that silly motherfucker kept his ass by the door throughout that whole scene. Toddlers and babies throw tantrums, they yell and scream when they don’t get their way. I’ve been told a good ass whooping usually solves that problem.
One step in my direction and a serious ass whooping is what I would have given him. FOR SURE! I might catch his ass on a dark night and beat the shit out of him on G.P. (general purposes), for upsetting my girl. I don’t know what I thought tonight’s dinner would reveal about Amber, but this sure as fuck was not what I had in mind for the evening, nor was I not thinking this dinner would be this insightful.
Amber has had my nose wide open since I met her. Now, my eyes are open wide and peeping out this whole fucked up scene. I do not like what I’m seeing that’s for damn sure. I’ll promise you one thing; my eyes will not shut until I know for sure that my girl is in good hands.
You can believe that!
****
Although, I cannot imagine sitting in that house eating dinner knowing that I wasn’t welcome, I’m not going to lie; Mrs. Wallace had the house smelling good. I would rather be eating a home cooked meal right about now, but I had to get Amber out of there. I decided to stop at KFC to pick up something to eat.
“Are you ready to talk about what went down?” I ask after paying for the food.
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye as I pull into traffic. We’re not too far from my destination. I’m taking her someplace where I know I’m welcome…my house.
“Why did you buy so much food?”
Okay…that’s not what I was meaning when I asked her that question. I know she’s trying to change the subject and that’s fine. I’ll bite, but I will not be deterred for long.
“I’m taking you home.”
She takes in a gulp of air and whips her head in my direction.
“No Chase!”
“I’m taking you to my house.” We speak at the same time. I grab her hand to silently show her that I’m here for her. Her anxiety tugs at my heart strings.
“Babe, if it were up to me I would never allow you to go back there ever again.” I say vehemently. I pause to control my anger. “I don’t know everything that’s going on, but what I witnessed today gives me a little insight on the things going on in the Wallace household.”
She looks at me with panic stricken eyes. I can tell that there is more to this than what I observed today.
“What’s going on Amber?”
She visibly swallows. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Amber, don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying Chase! Nothing is going on.”
I grab hold of the steering wheel so hard that my veins start to pop on my hand. He’s hurt her! That MOTHERFUCKER has hurt her! I know it in my gut. I knew that new money, Rolex wearing sonofabitch wasn’t right.
Thank GOD, I have finally made it to my house. At least I can park before I totally lose control of my temper. I can’t recall being this steaming mad before. I place the car in park and turn the car off. I look over and see her panic stricken face, that’s when I snap and lose my shit.
“How can you sit here and lie to me?”
“I’m…” She’s crying outright at this point.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME AGAIN!” I’m yelling and yanking the steering wheel simultaneously. “DON’T YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE? I’LL GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS SHIT! HE’S THE REASON WHY YOU WERE CRYING?”
“Chase, PLEASE…PLEASE!”
“He’s the reason, isn’t he?”
“You know that already, Chase!”
“I’m not talking about today, Amber.”
“W..Wh…What are you talking about? Crying When?” This was her stammered, confused response.
Amber is wailing and crying hysterically. It’s breaking my heart, but I need to know. I have to know!
“The zoo, Amber! The day I fell head over hills in love with you! He’s the reason why you were crying, isn’t he?”
She lowers her hands from her face to reveal blood shot eyes and tracks of tears that seem never ending. It breaks me in two! I start yanking and slamming my hands against my steering wheel.
I yell, “I can’t take this shit! I can’t stand to see anyone hurt you, to make you cry! I love you so much!”
Sounds I have never heard before escape my throat. Guttural, mewing, pained sounds are pulled from the marrow of me. Imagining someone hurting her, is destroying me. I don’t put anything past that silly motherfucker. I will fuck him up!
&
nbsp; My mind is reeling. My thoughts are bouncing all over the place. My inner turmoil is so great that I fail to notice when Amber leaves the car.
Chapter 18
I exit the car to rush to Chase’s side. He’s yanking on the steering wheel and muttering to himself. Some of it is incoherent, but other words are very clear. I hear, fuck him up…beat his ass…hurt what’s mine. I call his name several times. He seems to not hear me though.
“Guide me Lord, please!” I yell to the heavens above.
I kneel, lay my head on his lap, quote scripture and pray. Honestly, I don’t know what else to do at this point.
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