by Callie Hart
The wind claws at my jacket, trying to rip it from my body as I hurry toward the south entrance of the school where the English labs are located. My hand’s on the ice-slick handle, bitingly cold, when someone grabs me by the shoulder…
I react without thinking.
I twist and launch my right fist into the air at the same time, half expecting it to hit nothing. Pain jangles up my hand, into my wrist and then my shoulder, letting me know that my aim was true, though.
“Ahh, fuck! What the fucking…!” A guy in a leather jacket dances back, nearly slipping over on a patch of ice, holding a tattooed hand to his face. When he removes the hand, his palm is spattered with blood…and my heart stops dead in my chest.
At first, I think it’s Alex. A much older, worn version of him that’s been left out in the wind and the rain for a couple of decades. His eyes, a deep, chestnut brown, are so similar to Alex’s in both color and shape. His dark hair, and the cut of his jaw, and the way his nose juts uncompromisingly from his face…all of it seems so Alex that for a second I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing.
Then the guy turns his attention to me, our eyes meeting, and I realize my mistake. His eyes are nothing like Alex’s after all. They’re harder. Unkind, unforgiving and flinty, in a disturbing way that makes my blood run cold. The resemblance is undeniable—I even see Ben in the man standing before me—but he isn’t the Moretti I fell in love with.
I pull my jacket tighter around my body, stepping back toward the door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Didn’t mean to startle you, darlin. I should have called out or something. Don’t worry, I’m not some creepy pervert. I’m—”
“I know exactly who you are. What do you want?”
The man in the leather jacket looks taken aback by this. “Really? He told you about me?”
“No. But I have eyes in my head, don’t I? It’s pretty obvious you’re his father. What can I do for you, Mr. Moretti?”
“Oh, Jack, please,” he says, waving me off with his bloody hand. I see where I broke the skin now—a small cut just below his nose.
“Mr. Moretti’s just fine,” I answer stiffly. “We’re not friends. I’ve never even met you before.”
“Surely Alex has told you about me, though?” He sounds so certain of himself. As if there’s no way his son wouldn’t have regaled me with all kinds of stories about his notorious father.
“He did tell me he thought you might be dead once,” I inform him in a chilly tone. “He also told me how you skipped out on your family when they needed you most.”
The cock-sure smile on Giacomo’s face sags, the assertive spark in his eye guttering out and slowly dying. “Yeah, well. Everything’s so cut and dried when you’re a kid. He was too young to understand what was going on at the time. Things were complicated, weren’t they. His mother was a difficult woman. You understand how these things go.”
Taking a step back, halfway through the door, I meet his eyes. I think he’s trying to cow me with his direct gaze—poor, timid little girl, unsettled by the magnetic, overwhelming presence of a grown man in a motorcycle club cut—but he’s got another thing coming. I know a bully when I see one, and I know every underhanded trick in their playbook. I’ve stared down death and I didn’t look away. I sure as hell won’t be subjugated by a washed-up, powerless old man like Giacomo Moretti. “No, actually,” I tell him. “I don’t understand. I know that your wife was sick and you ducked out on her and your two young kids when things got hard, rather than staying to figure out how to help her. Seems pretty cowardly to me.”
Giacomo smiles, emotionless, devoid of any humor. “Well, shit. Aren’t you a little spitfire? I can see why Alex likes you—”
“I’m sorry, I’m confused. Is there something I can help you with? Because you’re on Raleigh High property, y’know. I have to get to class…and I’d hate for a member of staff to see you and get the wrong impression. I know you’re not a pedophile, prowling around the English block, looking for kids to lure into the back of a van, but Principal Darhower might not give you the benefit of the doubt. Things have been kinda crazy around here lately.” Sarcasm drips from every word; I’ve really outdone myself on the passive aggressive front. On its own, my statement was polite enough. A friendly warning offered to a stranger. My tone, however, is anything but friendly, and paints a very vivid picture in which Giacomo is arrested and carted off Raleigh property without so much as a by-your-leave.
Alex’s father runs his tongue over his teeth, flaring his nostrils as he glances down at his worn leather boots. “You’re protective of him. I like that. It’s good that he has you in his life.”
“We’re good for each other,” I correct him.
“I just wanted to know if he was doing okay.”
“In that case, no, Alex is doing pretty miserably right now. His little brother just died. He’ll come through the other side eventually, though. He has me, and he has my dad. We’ll both be here to help him for as long as he needs us. Now, if you don’t mind, the bell’s about to ring and I don’t wanna be late.”
Keep your damn mouth shut, Giacomo. Just keep that stupid, filthy, lying trap closed…
He doesn’t, no matter how hard I wish it. I’ve almost managed to turn away from him before he calls out after me. “Silver? Hey, Silver. That wasn’t all I wanted.”
Sighing heavily under my breath, I spin back around. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I want to make things right with Alex. With Alex’s mom gone, and now Ben, too, it isn’t right that there be should be such a massive divide between us. He’s my son, Silver. I’m his father. I appreciate your dad for looking out for my boy, but it ain’t his job. All I’m asking for is a chance. Just one chance to fix things and be there for him.”
My emotions riot, bouncing all over the place. No way in hell should he be trying to pull the old, he’s-my-son, your-dad-should-mind-his-own-damn-business bullshit. He has absolutely no fucking right. I marshal my face into a blank mask, tamping down my thoughts. I can be mad all I want on Alex’s behalf. In the end, none of this is up to me. “Then you need to say all of that to Alex, Mr. Moretti.”
“He won’t listen. He has a shitty temper. He won’t sit still long enough for me to get the words out.”
I’m sure he’s right. Alex hates this man. He probably wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just…talk to him. Play devil’s advocate for me. Make him see that I’m genuine an’ I’ve changed. Convince him that I only have his best interests at heart. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
There he goes again, wheedling, turning on the charm, treating me like a naïve little girl who can’t see right through his bullshit. I laugh harshly, clouds of fog forming on my breath. “No, I can’t do that for you. I don’t know anything about you. I sure as fuck don’t know that you’re genuine. I don’t know the first thing about your motives. I’m guessing they have very little do with Alex’s best fucking interest, though. I won’t try to convince him of anything. If you’re serious about everything you just said, then you’re gonna have to show him that yourself.”
Giacomo doesn’t like my answer. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, slowly shaking his head. “Such a foul mouth on such a pretty little thing,” he muses.
This time, I do turn around, and I do walk away. “Oh, Mr. Moretti…you have no fucking idea.”
13
ALEX
It’s pathetic, really, stalking Silver. I’m her boyfriend for fuck’s sake. I’m done with the part of our story where I have to duck my head and hide every time she pauses in a hallway and glances over her shoulder. I definitely shouldn’t be trailing her out in the cold, hood pulled down low over my eyes, creeping around after her like I’m about to drag her into the forest and kidnap her.
We’ve been through so much shit since we met; there’s nothing I can’t talk to her about. Nothing I can’t say to h
er. But I was supposed to get stronger as time passed by, things were supposed to get easier for us, not harder, and after Ben’s death…
Fuck, I’m not the guy I’m supposed to be right now. I’ve always prided myself on knowing who I am and knowing what I want, fighting for my goals no matter how deep the shit I had to wade through became, but this version of me? This shattered, cored out, broken man, bereft and without even the smallest glimmer of hope? What good am I like this? I’m useless. I’m a fucking train wreck.
She’s broken and hurting, too. Today’s the first day back at school, and she’d rather face the sleet and the cold than walk fifty feet passed the gym, for fuck’s sake. I don’t even know how she’s mustered the strength to show up here today after all of the shit that’s gone down inside this school. She’s a fucking miracle, this girl. Remarkable, and so much stronger than anyone can possibly realize…
The icy wind blasts into me as I carefully tread through the frosted, brittle blades of grass, staying close to the building’s perimeter. Rolling my feet, heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, I try not to make too much noise, but I don’t really need to worry. The snap and crunch of the undergrowth giving way beneath the soles of my boots is loud, but the low, mournful howl of the wind is louder.
Up head, Silver’s hair stirs, creating a halo of blonde and copper around her head as she turns the corner at the end of the building. One last look at her before she disappears inside the school. That’s all I really need. Somehow, that will be enough to sustain me until I can drive by her place later on tonight. Hurrying, I jog the remaining distance to the end of the brick wall, sucking in a breath and holding it in my lungs, as if that will somehow render me invisible. I’m two long strides away from turning the corner myself when I hear his voice.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I should have called out or something…”
WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.
Anger sizzles up my spine like a spark chasing along a fuse. He shouldn’t be here. He…he has no fucking right to be here. Approaching her like this…the bastard’s lost his fucking mind. My hands have already made fists. My feet move with a mind of their own, propelling me forward, urging me to run around the corner and make the fucker bleed for this outrageous intrusion, but…
Hush, Passarotto. Let him speak. Then you’ll know what he wants…and how to make him leave.
It goes against every scrap of sense I possess, but I manage to still myself, planting my feet into the frozen earth. Paralyzed, too afraid to move a millimeter in case I snap and lose all control, I lean against the wall, closing my eyes, straining to hear what’s being said against the rustling of the leaves.
I almost chip my teeth when my father starts to make excuses for his past behavior. I break the skin of my palms, fingernails gouging into my flesh, when he comments on how protective Silver is over me. Hot bile burns at the back of my throat he tries to worm his way into her good graces, asking for her help to get me on side. Pride and relief wash over me like a winter squall when she basically tells him to go fuck himself.
That’s my girl, Silver. That’s my girl.
The door to the building slams closed behind her when she goes, sealing her inside the light and the warmth of Raleigh High, and a deadly calm settles over me. The anger’s still there, but it isn’t the searing brand it was a moment ago. No, this is a different kind of anger altogether—the kind that cools to tempered steel and runs soul-deep, woven into the very fabric of a man’s being. I shove away from the wall, rounding the corner just as my father begins to walk away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl.
He stops in his tracks, his head whipping in my direction. A calculating smile forms on his lips as he looks me up and down. “Well, well, well. The man himself. Didn’t think I was gonna see you today, son.”
“Bullshit. You know I’m enrolled here.”
He stifles a laugh, tipping his head back to look up at the stark, winter sky. “Yeah, well…you have to be enrolled somewhere. There’s a difference between being on the books and actually showing up, right? And us Morettis, we’re hardly the further education type, are we?”
He says ‘further education’ like it’s something to be embarrassed about—a dirty, shameful secret that guys like us would ever consider being associated with such a lame concept as learning.
“You don’t know shit, old man. Just because you were happy to remain ignorant the rest of your life, doesn’t mean the rest of us want that. You kept yourself stupid. And to what end? To look cool? Hate to burst your bubble, Giacomo, but flunking out of high school, not even bothering to get a GED? That’s not cool. That’s the dumbest thing a guy can do.”
He grimaces, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “I got plenty of money, kid. A solid roof over my head. Food in the cupboards—”
“That’s more than you left Mom with.”
He slowly blinks, visibly side-stepping the comment. “What did I need math and science and fucking theater class for, huh? It’s all fucking pointless. You’d do just fine if you turned around and walked out of this place right now. Waste of fucking time if you ask me.”
“No one did ask you, though, did they. No one’s asked you for anything at all. You’re the only one wasting your time. I’ll never forgive you for what you did. You could have hurt me all day long. You could have rejected me and Ben and I would have found a way to make my peace with it. Men like you have been disappointing their kids since the dawn of fucking time. But the way you hurt her? It was unforgiveable. She was convinced you were gonna come back, y’know. She used to talk to you all the time, like you were standing on the other side of the front door, about to come through it any fucking seco—”
“That’s because she was fucking crazy, Alessandro!” The words explode out of his mouth, echoing out across the dell, the deep cavern behind the school repeating them back to him like the report of a gunshot. Rooted to the spot, I stand perfectly still as he rushes toward me, jabbing a finger angrily into my face. “You have no idea what it was like, boy. She was unstable when we met but it was cute back then. Kinda exciting. You never knew what she was gonna do next. The unpredictability was fun. But when you were born, she…” He shakes his head, disgust carved deep into the planes of his face. “She lost her fucking mind, Alex. And not in a fun way. She tried to stab me, for fuck’s sake. How’s a guy supposed to handle a bitch when she’s fucking certifiable like that?”
“If you refer to my mother as bitch again, I will personally see to it that you never eat solid food again.” There’s an electrical storm building in my chest, and any second I’ll crack open and unleash it upon him.
Jack holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “Alex. This is exactly why I came to see your girl first. I hoped she’d help you see that I didn’t come here to cause problems. That all I wanted was to build a relationship between us finally, after way too many years—”
I lunge forward, slamming my hands into his chest. “Where were you when they locked me and Benny in that group home, huh?” A current of fury bristles just beneath the surface of my skin. “Where were you when I got kicked out of my first foster home?” I push him again, grinding my teeth together. “Or the second?” He does a good job of standing his ground, but when I push him again, he loses his footing, slipping in the rotten snow. “What about the third home, Jack? Did you know the guy in my third home wouldn’t let me wear underwear? He used to strip me fucking naked and lock me in a dog crate in the garage. He thought it was funny to piss on me through the bars when he came drunk every other night.”
The miserable fucker’s eyes round out, like I’ve just said the most hurtful thing I could possibly think of. “I…I didn’t…know, Alex. I wouldn’t have…”
Fuck him. Fuck him and his fake guilt. “Right. You wouldn’t have done a thing,” I spit. “You didn’t even check on us.”
“Ben?” he whispers. “Did…they hurt him, too?”
Manic laughter bubbles up
the back of my throat. Stepping away from him, putting a healthy amount of space between us, I let my head rock back and I unleash it: howling raw, insane laughter up at the sky. “No. No, no, y’know, Ben was actually pretty fucking lucky. How ironic is that? I fought tooth and nail, and I railed against Jackie, but at least she fucking loved him. She never would have hurt him. Not on purpose. He had a stable home, which is more than I can say I ever had. Not that any of it matters now, of course, but BEN IS FUCKING DEAD AND YOU CAN GO TO FUCKING HELL!”
I hurl myself at him, letting it all go; the lightning inside me needs out and won’t be told no a second longer. Jack throws up his hands, shielding his face, but I’m not out to break his nose. A broken nose is painful, but it’s not the end of the world. I home in on a more fragile part of his body: his chest, and his stomach. If I can break a few of his ribs, I might be able to do some more serious damage underneath. Deflate a lung. Stop his heart. I don’t know…just something.
I drive my fists into his sides and his chest with as much force as I can muster, blow after blow raining down…and he immediately topples over onto his ass. Not what I was expecting. I wait for him to get up, blowing hard, switching my weight from one foot to the other, ready to fucking end this…but then Jack rolls onto his side in the dirty snow and hacks, wheezing as he tries to sit himself up…and all I see is a pathetic loser in a leather jacket, pretending to be something he’s not. Pretending that he still fucking matters.
“Goddamnit.” I drag my hands through my hair, pulling on it out of frustration. “Just…get the fuck out of here, Jack. I’m sick of looking at your face. For the last time, do us both a solid and leave Raleigh in your rearview, okay? I don’t want you here.”
Huffing, my father gets to his feet, straightening out his t-shirt and his jacket. His face is sheet white, the same color as the bleached-out sky. His bottom lip is busted open, staining his teeth bright crimson. “Would if I could, son,” he pants. “But I’m gonna be here for at least another couple of weeks. I’m staying at the Motel 6…if you change your mind and wanna…talk.”