Someone reported him to Child Protective Services a few times over the years, but Rowen somehow managed to convince them that whoever called was overreacting. That his kids got hurt playing outside or during a game, it was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. Finally, one day CPS didn’t buy into his bullshit so he was forced to stop hitting me. But that just meant he upped his verbal abuse game instead. That only leaves internal scars.
“No, you don’t know,” I snap.
“What the hell?” Alice whispers. Everyone is now paying attention. We haven’t all been home, under my parents’ roof, in a long time. Sure, everyone comes to visit once in a while, but my sisters are so far away it’s a rare occurrence that we’re all together.
“Jess, what are you doing?” Rollie asks. His eyes are wide and he is shifting them between me and my dad.
“Is because of that girl?” my dad asks and I can hear the anger dripping off his words.
“Stanzy. And no,” I reply curtly. The mention of her name from his mouth makes my inside twist. She supported me in this decision when I knew no one else would. When she knew it would put half of a country between us. But she always had my best interest at heart unlike this asshole. “This is about me and my future. I accepted a full scholarship to Cambria.”
And with those words the air is sucked out of the room. There is a collective gasp as my dad crushes the beer can in his hand which causes the beer inside to spill all over the armrest of his chair. Dateline is back on, but he doesn’t unmute the TV. My dad’s pale white Irish face is the color of my football jersey. Dark purple. So dark I can’t even see his freckles. His green eyes are hooded and menacing telling me a storm is on the way.
My mama, bless her sweet heart, sets her book down on the table and makes the sign of the cross over her head and body repeatedly. She’s praying for my safety and even though she isn’t Catholic she keeps making the gesture. Tears are forming in her root beer eyes, I get my eyes from her, and I can’t tell if she is scared for me or sad I’m leaving. Maybe both.
“What the actual fuck?” Frankie mumbles and rakes his hands over his face. I glance over to him and my dad uses the distraction to pounce. He has me by my throat, pinning me against the wall in the living room with all of his weight.
“Rowen! No!” my mother shrieks but her efforts are futile. This is nothing new for any of us. I’ve been tossed against the walls of this house more times than I can count, more than any of my brothers actually.
“You ungrateful little bastard. I gave you everything. Paid for all of your football leagues and private training sessions. This. THIS!” he screams and spit hits my cheek, his face inches from mine, “is how you thank me. By going to a school that, that, that is in…” he pauses. He doesn’t even know where Cambria is. He never bothered to go on a visit with me when I went. He just assumed I’d fall in line and go to Georgia.
“Boston,” I croak with the pressure on my neck causing my breathing to become labored. I could fight back, but it’s not worth it. I’m free after tonight.
“Dad!” Frankie and Ricky grab him by the shoulders.
“Step off, boys,” he sneers and waves his free arm to knock my brothers off of him before bringing his second hand to my throat, squeezing tight.
“You didn’t give me shit other than some good genes and I’m pretty sure those came from Mama. Get your hands off me, Dad,” I cough out and grab onto his wrists.
“You are no longer allowed to call me that,” Rowen seethes. “You didn’t get your defective genes from me. You are not my son!”
“Fine by me, old man,” I cough out the words, not really registering what he just said. I don’t give a shit. I want nothing to do with him anyway.
“Rowen! No!” Mama’s voice is shrill. “Don’t!”
“You,” he seethes, releasing one hand so he can shove his pointer finger into my chest, “you’re a bastard. An unwanted little fucker who I allowed to live under my roof after your mother went slumming! I gave you my name! I gave you everything!”
My heart stops. What?
“Dad!” Rence yells. “Don’t do this!”
“You stay out of this!” he snaps at Rence. “You’re the only Rhodes to never win a state championship. You have no right to speak in this house!”
“Please! He’s turning purple,” Mama wails. “Boys help him!” For as much as my mama loves all her children, she will never lay a hand on our dad. She is under his thumb, under his rule, as much as we are. I’ve never understood why she continues to choose him.
I look to my mama, eyes pleading for the truth. “Mama?” I croak as I fight the sting of tears forming in my eyes. I didn’t hear that right. That can’t be true. That’s Rollie. Rollie is the only half sibling among us. Right? My head is spinning from this revelation and lack of oxygen.
“I’m sorry, Jessup,” she squeaks and begins to cry. So it’s true. I’m not Rowen’s son even though I carry his name and his legacy around with me.
Can you hear the moment your world collapses? I think I did. I expected to be exiled for my decision, not a decision my mama made eighteen years ago. I wasn’t close with my dad, but my mama. Fuck. She let me live a lie. My life, my name, every single thing was a fucking lie.
Anger is rushing through me and I shove my dad in the chest with both hands so hard he stumbles back and bumps into the TV on the entertainment center. I’m too big for him to fuck with now and he knows it. With the release of pressure on my throat I gasp as the full amount air reaches my lungs. After a few seconds, the stars that were spinning in my eyes subside.
“Get the fuck out and never come back. You’re dead to me,” he growls and retreats to his chair.
“Fuck you,” I sneer. Not my most clever comeback. “Someday when you’re watching me on Monday Night Football, and you hear my name, your name, I hope it chokes you. I hope you can’t stand the fact that the one Rhodes who finally made it the NFL isn’t even yours.”
My mama’s whole body is shaking and tears are flowing like Niagara Falls.
“Jessup,” she sniffles. I don’t know what to say to her.
“I was your revenge. Payback for Rollie,” I growl. It makes sense why we’re only eight months apart. Rowen’s whore came knocking and so Mama went out and found vengeance the only way she knew how. FUCK!!!!
“Baby Bro,” Rollie chokes on the words.
“Did you all know?” Since everyone is avoiding eye contact with me I assume this was common knowledge.
“Fuck you all too,” I say as I shake my head and jog upstairs to grab my stuff. I shoot a text to Coach Hayes in the process.
“Sir, I’m leaving for Cambria tonight. Will there be a room ready for me by tomorrow?”
I hit send as I walk back downstairs.
“Jessup,” my mama tries again.
“Save it,” I reply, holding up a hand for her to stop talking. Walking out of my parents’ house for the last time makes me sick to my stomach.
I have a nice nest egg saved up from all of the side jobs I have worked since I was ten. Mowing lawns, running errands for our elderly neighbors, walking dogs, landscaping. You name it, I did it. I’ve been working and saving money because, even back then, I had a feeling I would be out of this family one day. Call it intuition, but as mean my dad was, he always seemed to hate me the most out of all of us. Now I know why.
I start to plan my budget in my head as I walk down the sidewalk carrying all of my stuff. I need a bus ticket. I’ll have to pay for my phone because I know Rowen will cut me off. It may take a while because while Rowen controls the flow of money, Mama is responsible for paying the bills and I know she will let me keep it as long as she can, but eventually I will be all on my own.
I step away from the house. I’m angry, hurt, nervous, and ready to get the fuck out of this town.
I text Stanzy because I don’t know if I can face her right now. I’m not prepared to say goodbye and I’m processing this new family revelation. My head is fucking
spinning.
“I have to leave for Boston.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m coming to say goodbye so I’ll explain then.” I reply. This sucks. I thought we’d have a little more time, but we don’t. It’s done.
I grip the football pendant around my neck as I hit send. Nothing in my world has been easy and it’s only getting worse. I’m a broke bastard child, basically homeless, and relying solely on football now. If anything happens, if I get hurt, it’s over for me. I’ll have nothing. The thought is terrifying.
“Baby Bro!” I hear as a truck pulls up next to me. “Let me drive you.”
I want to decline because I’m fucking livid, but I have a box in one arm and I’m dragging my suitcase with the other. The closest bus station is in Atlanta and I don’t want to waste money on an Uber.
“Fine. I need to make two stops before the bus station.” I put my belongings into the truck bed.
“Whatever you need. I got you,” Rollie croaks. “Baby Bro, I will tell you everything I know.”
“A+ Liquor first and then Stanzy’s. I need to say goodbye before you take me to the bus station,” I reply tersely as I stare out the window. I was going to ask her if she wanted to make this work, but fuck that. I’m a disaster and she deserves better than me.
“You were a revenge fuck,” Rollie blurts out after I’m settled in the passenger seat.
I snap my head around to him as he pulls away from the curb.
*DING*
“Rhodes, your dorm room will be ready tomorrow afternoon. I hope that is soon enough. If not, you can stay with me until it is. I assume this means you told your family and it wasn’t well received. I will take care of you, son. I promise.”
Coach calling me son cuts a little deeper. How fucked up is my life right now? I need liquor and I need it now. Rowen obviously rubbed off me in at least one way.
“Thanks, Coach. I checked the bus schedule and I should arrive in Boston around 3:15 p.m. Could I get a ride to campus?” I don’t want to waste what little money I have.
“Coach Arends or I will be there.”
“Thank you.” I tuck my phone in my pocket and look at Rollie.
“Explain,” I growl. Although I sort of already put the pieces together myself, I need to hear it.
“Now don’t be pissed at me. I just found out too,” Rollie begins. “You were Mama’s retaliation. You know Dad fucked some random at a bar one night, knocked her up with me when he was drunk. Mama was livid because out of all dad’s cheating he never fathered another kid until me.”
I nod. Rollie is just as fucked up as I am. Rowen outed his little secret to Rollie just like he did with me, during a fight. We definitely got hosed in the parent department, but at least mama treated him like her own. Rowen fucking hated me. “How do you know this?”
“Frankie told me after you went up to grab your stuff. I guess he heard Mama and Dad fighting about it when it happened. He was eleven at the time so he understood what was going on. I guess my mama was crack whore who came looking for dad, pregnant and demanding money. Dad made her take a paternity test and I’m his. Mama paid her off so she’d sign over the rights to me as soon as I was born. Then, I guess Mama called some guy she knew from high school, I’m not really sure, Frankie told the story really quick. Anyway, she slept with him as a way to get back at Dad and got pregnant too.”
“Jesus H. Fuck,” I rake my hands over my face. We’ve all known Rollie wasn’t Mama’s son, but no one ever talked about it. And apparently no one ever talked about me not being Dad’s, like ever, even though everyone knew except me and Rollie.
“That’s so unlike Mama.”
“Yeah, well she was really pissed. She’d been living with Dad’s unfaithful ass for years. Can’t blame her.”
“True.”
“So, you were conceived and were born less a year after me,” he shrugs.
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”
“I don’t know. Probably cuz of how I flipped the fuck out when Rowen told me last year. They were scared you’d do the same. I swear I just found out or I would have told you.”
“So who is my dad?” I ask, almost pleading.
“I don’t know, Baby Bro. I asked Mama after you ran out, but all she said was that she’s known him for a long time. But that’s why you’re the best out of all of us. You didn’t get Dad’s shitty genes.”
Part of that statement actually makes me feel better. Knowing I’m not related to the piece of shit I thought was my dad.
Our mama was a track star at Atlanta North Metro high school. She was heavily recruited from what she’s said and she was committed to Tennessee on full scholarship, but then Rowen got her pregnant with Frankie.
She always said she never regretted having Frankie and raising a family, but now that I know the truth I wonder if she does a little bit. Rowen isn’t exactly husband of the year material.
Rollie pulls into A+ Liquor and hops out. “What do you want?” he asks. He’s had Rence’s old I.D. for years now and can buy booze whenever he wants.
“Whatever makes it hurt less.”
He nods. I’ve never drank a drop of alcohol in my life, but tonight seems like a good night to start.
Rollie returns with two bottles of something in brown paper bags and climbs into the driver’s seat.
“You trying to kill me?” I nod toward the double brown bags.
“One’s for me. We can get bastard drunk together.” He flashes me a cheesy grin as he pulls out of the parking lot. It actually makes me feel a tiny bit better knowing Rollie went through this same bullshit only a year ago. We’ve always been close because of our proximity in age. I guess this just brings us that much closer.
Rollie parks the truck just on the edge of town on top of a hill near where the city stores their maintenance vehicles. We can see the entire city twinkling below us as streetlights start to come on as the sun begins to set.
We clink our whiskey bottles together and dive in, each taking a long swig. I choke as the warm brown liquid stings my throat on the first pass.
“Holy shit,” I choke.
“First time, huh?” Rollie asks he lights a joint he pulled from his pocket.
“Yeah.” I cough again.
Rollie takes a drag and passes the joint to me.
Might as well hit another first tonight.
“You’re the good one, Jess,” Rollie smiles and takes another swig from his bottle. “But I can tell you from experience there isn’t a lot booze and a good smoke can’t fix. I started drinking at thirteen.”
I put the rolled paper to my lips and suck in. The cherry glows and as the smoke hits my lungs I start to cough again. Not my finest moment, but I’m not trying to impress Rollie. My goal is total numbness.
“How do I know so little about this family? Where the fuck was I? We were always together.”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t much. I’d steal a beer from Rowen’s stash and pound it before practice. He had enough and never noticed. Every once in a while he’d ask if he noticed one missing. I’d just tell him he drank more than he thought. He couldn’t argue with that.”
I stay silent because what do I say to that? My brother is headed down the path of our, no, his father. But then again, I look to the bottle clenched in my hand, so am I and I’m not even his blood.
We sit in silence for a while, staring as the city lights glow brighter in the short distance, drowning in Jack Daniels and getting high as fuck off of what he called some “bomb ass weed.” I took his word for it because I’m royally fucked up right now.
“Are you ever gonna get out of here?” I ask him.
He shrugs and takes another drink. “Doubtful. I’ll play my four years, earn a worthless degree in leisure studies, and get a dead end job like the rest of the Rhodes boys. I’ll probably end up working for Rowen selling cars. Who the fuck knows?”
“Don’t you want more?” I ask. I’ve known that I wanted to get out of here for years. Ro
llie seems to just accept that this is his fate. It’s sad really.
“Sure, but where am I going to go? PBP is the only place I’ve really known. I don’t know. Where would I go?”
I think about his question. Peachberry Park, or just PBP as it’s known to locals, is a haven. A city of about 50,000 just outside of Atlanta with pruned lawns, beautiful landscaping, backyard pools, and large trees. Every other street seems to be a cul-de-sac where kids can ride their bikes to each other’s houses or spend an entire day outside. Growing up here was idealistic for most. For us, it was hell most days.
We each sit silently for a few more minutes, drinking from our bottles.
“Which beating do you remember most?” Rollie asks breaking the silence. “My favorite was when I was six. Remember when we were playing catch outside and I missed the ball and spilled a can of paint he was using on the fence. He grabbed me by the neck and threw me on the grass. He broke a stick off one of the trees and beat the shit out of me with it. My back, legs, arms, fuck, they were raw for weeks. Mama finally took me to the doctor because it was getting infected,” he tells me.
I remember that and it was terrifying. Rollie was writhing on the ground screaming in pain the entire time. I was five at the time, Rowen had hit me and my brothers plenty of times before that, but that was the worst I’d ever witnessed. Until it was my turn.
Because Mama took Rollie to the doctor, CPS made a visit. Rollie was in long sleeves and pants to hide the marks. He was forced to lie and say that he and a friend did it to each other. That was one of the times CPS threatened to return, but never followed up.
After that incident, Rowen’s rage was solely focused on me.
“I remember,” I confirm. “After that he didn’t hit you much. I was the focus of his aggression. I’ve never figured out why.”
“I don’t know either. Maybe that’s when he found out you weren’t his or maybe because the doctor or CPS had me in their files after that.”
“My worst punishment came at nine.”
Completion (Cambria University Series Book 3) Page 12
