by J. L. Beck
No one understood the anger that was sparked deep inside of me. I smirked, realizing my father would soon understand the damage he caused by abandoning me and so would his perfect little family. I clenched the steering wheel in my hands. Oh they would all understand the kind of hell I could bring down on them.
That I would bring down on them.
I was Royal Black, and I was better at being an asshole than anything else.
Chapter Two
-Noelle
My mother warned me, or at the very least she tried to. She did so by showing me the most recent pictures of Royal, which just happened to be from the juvenile detention center that he was placed in for illegal underground fighting. The entire reason he was being sent to live with us in the first damn place.
“I want you to understand how dangerous he is, Noelle. He’s fighting kids for money. Clearly his mother isn’t taking very good care of him and that’s why he’s being sent here.” My mother’s words sent a shudder of fear down my spine. If she was taking this seriously then I should be too, right? It wasn’t everyday she talked to me about shit like this or even cared much for my well-being. As long as I played along in her perfect little life, maintaining good grades and making her look good in front of her and Dad's rich friends, she all but left me alone.
“I understand, Mom, I’ll stay away from him,” I mumbled, lying through my teeth. I couldn’t take my eyes off the photo of him no matter how hard I tried. All I could see was a misunderstood boy, with the potential for so much more.
His eyes were dark and bleak. The contours of his face in the lighting made him look darker, more sinister than he really was, I was sure. He had dark brown hair that was spiked in a million different directions, the kind of hair that said he did nothing in the morning to tame it. God to be those hands, those fingers. I could feel my cheeks growing pink and a heat creeping up my neck.
“I doubt he will do anything to hurt you, but the fact that he fights in the underground arenas all but says he will do anything for some money. Besides, his mother Olivia is certain that he just needs a little bit of time with his father. I’m not convinced in the least bit, though. He left them for a reason.” My mother was preparing her tea in our over the top kitchen. Mark, Royal’s father wasn’t biologically my dad, but he’d been married to my mom since she was pregnant with me, and he treated me like I was his own flesh and blood. He gave me the things I needed for a better life and was the father to me that mine never was or even tried to be. He treated my mom right and was an all-around great guy which was all I could ever ask for.
“Maybe it’s true?” I shrugged, trying to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. My mom had always been a negative nelly, always believing the bad in people before she even bothered to hear the good that they might have done.
“Don’t be so naïve, Noelle.” She scolded me like I was a small child. I wanted to roll my eyes at her but didn’t. I knew better than that. I didn’t have the time in my day for that lecture again. My mom was all about money and popularity, uncaring to those of lesser stature than her. In my eyes, she would be forever ungrateful. Just another unhappy, rich snob.
I couldn’t help myself, I had to sneak another peek. My eyes drifted back down to the photo she had placed in front of me as I ate my breakfast. Royal. I said the name in my head letting it roll around and simmer in my mind for a few minutes.
It was a name that reminded me of royalty, of a person who considered themselves above others, though he didn’t look the part at all.
He oozed sex appeal and charm,,that coupled with the pale blue eyes and the darkness of his skin made him more appealing to the eye. Then there was the fact he was smirking in his photo, which was all but saying fuck you to the correctional officer in front of him. Still, I wanted to reach through the photo and shake the shit out of him. He was a bad boy; it was written all over his face, and I was curious.
“When is he coming?” I blurted the question out. I wanted to meet him; to be the first to question him and bring to light all of his discretions. I wanted to rip him apart and piece him back together. To figure out everything there was to know about him, and to dissect the sad look in his eyes. Something in that photo made me want to know him. It made me want to know why he would endanger himself and those he loved most.
“Tomorrow, possibly tonight. Your father is picking him up from the airport sometime soon. I don’t really know, Noelle.” Her voice was short as she sipped on her tea and scrolled on her phone pretending to listen to anything I was saying.
“Oh, okay. Well does he need any help with anything? Maybe getting enrolled in classes, sports, or extra-curriculars?” I peppered her with questions. I didn’t want to sound overly excited, or too eager because she would take it the wrong way, but I had been alone in this giant ass house for years. Having someone else here with me, someone the same age as me would maybe make the house seem a little smaller and hopefully more like a home.
My mom lifted her eyes from her cell phone screen, her eyes narrowing on me, as she digested what I had said. “Sports? Really, Noelle, he’s a damn criminal for Christ sake. Criminals don’t play sports, and if he’s got a track record like that…” she pointed to the information underneath the photo, “…I doubt he has the grades to back himself up to join any extra-curricular activities.” I could feel my mouth drop open. Her assumptions on who he was were horrible. Just because a piece of paper said something about you didn’t mean it defined you, and apparently my mother didn’t get that memo. I must have taken too long to answer because before I could speak she was talking again.
“Please don’t tell me you see hope in this juvenile delinquent?” I could hear the disapproval in her voice. How could she be so rude, so mean? We knew nothing of him except for who his father was, and that wasn’t even enough to judge someone. So what, he had a record. So did a lot of the guys I went to school with.
“I’ll be the judge of who I see him as. Just because a slip of paper tells you someone did something wrong, doesn’t mean that they’re at fault and it definitely doesn’t mean that he’s a criminal, at least not by choice.” I couldn’t believe I had stood up against my mother. The breath in my chest stilled as I waited for her to let me have it.
“I cannot…” She was flustered as she searched for a word to use against me, a word to describe her pure disapproval of me.
“Well I did, and it’s done and over with. Let me see him for myself and get to know him for the person he is before I judge him. Your assumption on who he is and my assumption are clearly very different. I need to be able to decide what type of person he is and whether or not he deserves to be treated like a criminal. After all, I’ve been alone in this house literally my whole life. It would be nice to have some company for a change.” I pushed off from the marble island counter and walked over to the farmhouse sink, setting my bowl in it.
“He’s a fighter. A criminal. He’s trouble walking. He’s put people in the hospital… You…” She tumbled over her words, looking for the perfect way to tell me he was a bad person.
I rolled my eyes as she carried on the conversation. “This isn’t going to work out. I should have known better than to agree to anything Mark wanted. I mean he hasn’t been in the child’s life since he was baby, and we don’t need this kind of negativity in the house. Everything is perfect as it is without him here. Just look at what’s going on now; the kid isn’t even here yet and you’re already arguing with me.” My fingernails dug into the edge of the sink, my eyes lingering on the immaculate green lawn outside the window. Perfection was around every single corner of this house. I took in a deep breath, willing my nerves to cool. I already knew my mom was a bitch, but I never knew more than in this one single moment how true that statement was.
I stood there in silence, not saying a word even though I wanted to scream at her for being such a cruel person. It wasn’t our job to judge him, and if he hadn’t seen his dad since birth then I’m sure this was already hard enough
for him too. The woman only heard and believed what she saw on paper or what would fit into her neat little imaginary box.
My silence only settled the matter more for her. “I am calling Mark and telling him to call this all off. You don’t need this kind of influence in your life. You’re going off to college next year, and we don’t need someone like him coming into our lives and causing problems.” I was seriously considering cutting my ears off so I wouldn’t have to listen to the insanity spewing from her mouth anymore.
“It’s not your choice, Mom. Let Dad decide that for himself. It’s his son, not yours.” I tried to keep my voice neutral because I wasn’t ready for her bat shit crazy self to go off on me.
“Excuse you!” Her anger was mounting. Clearly I hadn’t kept my voice neutral enough. “It’s my choice because I am protecting my daughter from that vile boy. Which he will most likely bring a charade of bad habits with him as well.” She sighed into the air as if talking about the entire issue was the most exhausting thing ever for her. I was done with this conversation, and done with letting her ruin my day.
“I’m going to let Dad make that choice. I’ve got homework so I’m going upstairs to finish it.” I tuned her out, even though she continued to speak as I headed up the grand staircase. Why did this entire thing between Mark, my mom, and Royal’s mom seem so fucked up? It seemed like there was so much more going on behind the scenes. Shit that I knew nothing about. I felt a little lost, and I wondered if Royal would be just as confused.
It didn’t start to sink in on just how fucked up it really was until I walked down the hall realizing that Mark was a millionaire and had all but plucked my pregnant mother up off the street. He cared for us when no one else did. He gave us everything he had all while he had a son on the side that he had nothing to do with? Then there was everything with Royal’s mom. Somewhere along the lines things weren’t adding up. Why would a man as good as my dad leave his son just to take in a woman expecting another man's child?
I shook my head. It was too much for me to wrap my head around at the moment, but I would bet almost anything that’s what caused Royal to act out, and that would be the pulsating wound that would show through in his actions and emotions. My mom didn’t know anything about loss, or about dealing with your feelings in any other way than she did so herself. If you were different than her in any way, you were below her; at least in her eyes.
I got the feeling Royal was doing all he could to get by, and I would do whatever I could when he got here to prove to my mother just how good of a person he really was. Underneath that bad boy persona lied a lost little boy.
Chapter Three
-Royal
“Welcome to Sauk Falls, Royal.” My father’s deep voice shattered the bubble that I surrounded myself in. I needed that bubble because without it I was like an F-5 tornado heading down the Oklahoma plains. My teeth ground together as I sized him up; my gaze going down to his extended hand and then back up to his face.
Did he honestly think he could be gone from my life for seventeen years and then walk right back into it like we were a normal father and son with a good relationship or something? No fucking way.
“Yeah I don’t shake hands, and I don’t plan on bonding with some asshole who abandoned me for my entire life.” I shoved past him and headed toward the car he was standing in front of. It’s an Audi. Of course it was. I almost wanted to laugh, not the funny kind of laugh but the lunatic kind of laugh. I should’ve known, still I’m surprised. Shock wasn’t something that gets me nowadays, not when you have heard it all.
“Your mother tells me you’re fighting. Wreaking havoc at home? That you’ve put a number of people in the hospital and have been arrested?” I smirked.
“Don’t get in the ring with me and not expect to wake up in the hospital,” was all I could say.
Still now wasn’t the time for him to show up and suddenly want to be a dad. Again. Fuck. No. I answered his question with amusement and anger, and opened the door to the back seat, throwing my bags in then sliding in right next to them, not wanting to sit next to him or hear any of his excuses. This man doesn’t know me, and I’ll show him just how much he doesn’t if he keeps it up.
I sensed the second he realized it’s a lost cause. He sighed and went around the car, opening his door and getting into the driver’s seat. I could tell he wanted to say something or ask me more questions, but he didn’t, which was a smart choice on his part because I wasn’t in the mood for fucking father son time.
I stared at the back of the headrest in front of me with a slow simmering anger. All the things I have wanted to say to this man— this stranger— and here he is right in front of me and I can’t manage to muster up one sentence. Not one that really matters. My fists could say far more than my mouth ever would.
“Is that how you got the shiner above your eye? Putting kids in the hospital?” Mark asked, hinting at the fighting conversation again. I cracked my knuckles and took in a deep breath, feeling as if there was barely enough oxygen in the car. The space was too confined to be having this conversation.
“You should see the other guy. Both eyes swollen shut, a broken nose, and busted up teeth. Don’t fuck with me or what’s mine without the intention of getting fucked up,” I commented, then went back to ignoring him. I still watched him out of the corner of my eye though. I could see where I got my eyes and handsome features, or so my mom calls them from. We share the same shade of blue colored eyes, and our jaws are shaped the same. We share the same body size and shape. Toned, athletic, and muscular.
“What’s yours? I wasn’t aware a seventeen-year-old could have possessions?” he laughed, and it’s a warm laughter, the kind that should make someone feel comfortable, but to me it’s just mocking and crude. It didn’t work on me. It just made me angrier. I sat in silence, knowing that the months ahead of me were going to be very quiet and lonely ones. I wanted nothing to do with this pathetic excuse of a man, nor did I want to try and fit into his picture perfect family.
“You eventually have to talk, Royal. I mean you’re going to be here for an awfully long time. Remaining silent is going to be kind of hard with a stepsister like Noelle, and well me as your father. I have so much I want to explain to you. Things that need to be said when the time is right and you’re ready of course.” He sounded so excited, so happy. My mind caught on the word stepsister. Sibling. My blood boils at the thought. It didn’t sit well with me, not at all. In fact, it hit the bottom of my stomach and echoed back up into my throat. I could feel the hate for her already forming and my hate for him increasing. It’s like a thick black fog that I couldn’t rid myself of.
I didn’t need anyone else in my life to hate, especially not some little sister that wants to tag along at every turn.
“Everything you want to talk about is in the past, Mark, meaning nothing you tell me now could change what has already taken place. Nor will anything that happened make up for the fact that you’re a shitty excuse for a father.” I said his first name instead of Dad, just to remind him that I would never see him as my father.
He would never be a parent to me, not after everything that had happened. We settled into a deep silence, the low hum of the car radio being the only thing that could be heard. I took the quiet time for what it’s worth and feasted my eyes on the tiny little buildings outside my window. It’s a small town, kind of quaint and dainty, but at least it had a small grocery store. I continued to stare off in my own little realm, my anger festering as I began to notice just how large the houses were getting as we headed out of town and into the countryside. Of course my mom wouldn’t tell me my father was apparently filthy rich. If she did, I wouldn’t be sitting in this car right now.
We took a right pulling into a driveway that seemed like it’s over a mile long. I could see the house in the distance, it’s like a small spec on a road map. It’s a two story house, with a giant ass yard, green grass surrounding the entire estate. White siding covered the outside of the house
and the shutters were painted a dark green color. I took it all in as well as the three-car garage attached to the house.
My hate rose with each elaborate thing I had to see. Every foot that the car rolled closer to the massive house mad me more resentful.
“This is what you spent the last seventeen fucking years doing? Creating an empire of shit you don’t need while my mother and I struggled to get by? Here you are with this big ass house and fancy fucking cars, and then there is my mom over there busting her ass working two fucking jobs just trying to make ends meet and put food on our table.” I wasn’t even trying to hide my dismay. I was sick to my stomach with hate.
He was a pitiful excuse of a man. Tension showed in his movements as he gripped the steering wheel hard, pulling us into the second garage door. I was getting to him, weaseling my way underneath his skin.
“You act like I neglected you or something? Like because I have nice things I never tried to take care of you. This is the part of the story that you never got to hear. The part I told you we needed to talk about.” Mark sounded slightly shocked, and I was more confused as to what he considered neglect and not neglect. What he did was most definitely neglect. The fact he even confused the two told me he had a major fucking problem.
I was over hearing excuses. My life was a revolving door of them. I grabbed my bags and opened the car door. I blew out a breath and then took in fresh oxygen. I wanted to get this done and over with as soon as I could.
I didn’t want to be here, but since I had no other option I made a couple promises to myself.
No commitments.
No relationships.
No friends. If I could help it. I was lost in my own thoughts, setting the boundaries that I needed to stay within as Mark spoke.
“You need to adjust your attitude, son. You’re here because your mom couldn’t handle you anymore.” He acted like he knew who I was. What I had been through. Like he knew me. Fucker didn’t know shit about me.