by Nikki Wild
Luckily, his little temper tantrum had been kept strictly to the kitchen. Still, it would take half the night to clean this shit up…
No, I thought to myself. The last time I tried to clean up in this room, he pulled a fucking gun on me. Let him wake up and see this mess. He can clean it himself.
Furiously, I walked back to the den.
Jack was already dozing away. He looked like a helpless disaster, and I realized that I couldn’t just leave the old fucker like this. He’s going to hurt himself, or worse…
There was nothing else to do but wait out his bullshit drunken stupor, and there was no telling how long that was going to take…
I pulled out my phone and texted Sarah.
Hey babe. Went to try to talk sense into your Dad. Kitchen’s a warzone. He’s drunk and asleep now. Going to sober him up and have a real talk, man-to-man. Sleep well.
I glanced around the den furniture.
There was no way I was sitting next to him in that state, not without a barf bag hanging around his mouth. That ruled out the couch…
I went back for the beer he’d offered me.
Draping a blanket over the miserable son of a bitch, I took my seat in his chair, grabbed the remote, and started flicking through channels. To my surprise, I found another western playing.
“Oh good,” I glanced over scathingly at Jack’s snoring body as I kicked off my boots.
“Lucky for you, I like this one…”
My eyes snapped open with a start. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been asleep. As soon as I recognized where I was, I instinctively jerked my head back towards the couch.
Jack was nowhere to be seen.
“Well.” I muttered. “That’s not good…”
I pried myself up from the stiff recliner with a yawn and, remembering the state of the kitchen, I threw my boots back on and wandered that way. Nothing had changed in the room, except for its solemn, silent guest.
Jack was sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into space with a glass of water.
“How’re you feeling, old coot?”
He didn’t look at me. “Head’s pounding.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me,” I replied, reaching for the nicest looking bottle of whiskey. Broken pieces and food crunched under my boots as I crossed to one of the cupboards that still had shit in it, pulling out a clean tumbler.
“Pour me one too,” he gruffly insisted.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“Hair of the dog, eh?”
His sunken, haunted eyes were still off in another world. “Somethin’ like that.”
Seeing as I was a grown man standing in his house, drinking his liquor, I saw little reason to not oblige. I dropped a pair of ice cubes in each tumbler and walked the glasses back over to the table, handing him one.
I took a seat in front of him.
“Jack… you and I need to talk.”
He scoffed.
“I mean it,” I contended. “If you honestly want your daughter back – and believe you me, there’s still a chance – then we need to hash this shit out.”
His eyes flicked to mine for the first time.
“Make amends,” he muttered, his gravelly voice only driven worse by his headache. “That’s what she was asking earlier… she wanted us to both make amends…”
“That’s right,” I nodded.
Jack looked despondent.
“…Okay,” he finally grunted in surrender, taking a swig from his whiskey neat. “Let’s say I’m willing… how did you put it? ‘Hash shit out?’” His eyes narrowed. “For an hour.”
An hour, huh?
“Fine,” I replied coolly, taking a sip. “But the way I’m lookin’ at things, seeing as it’s your house and all… only fair that you go first.”
Jack’s lips curled into a dark smile.
“Ladies first.”
Well, that settles it, then.
I nodded quietly, staring at the short glass of amber liquor in my hand. As the cage rattled deep down inside me, I kept myself from flinging the glass against the wall. Instead, I sat it down and pushed away from the table.
“Enjoy your night, Jack.”
My thick boots had just crossed the kitchen doorway when I heard his gruff, guttural voice ring out from behind.
“It started with your father.”
I hesitated. What?
“...There’s too much of him in you.”
Beneath the liquor, his dry syllables reeked of poison. But never in my life had I ever had reason to think that Jack might have crossed paths with my father, who I knew so little about…
I knew that I could just keep on walking.
These boots of mine would take me right out that front door for the last time, where I’d walk to the nearest gas station and call a cab to take me back to the love of my life...
But those poisonous words lured me back.
With the greatest reluctance, I turned around in the doorway, hovering just out of the kitchen and briefly holding my ground. I couldn’t seem too eager. I couldn’t let him realize the power he had over me now, that he had me by the balls…
“In what ways?”
Jack quietly lifted his eyes to me. There was an ominous, fierce glint to them, as if behind his gaze lay a waking predator…
“If you want more, take a seat.”
Goddammit.
This felt dangerous… but I had to know.
With my mind made up, I walked across and pulled the chair back out. The legs scraped on the wooden floor as I sat back down, glaring into that small, smug smile that crossed his haggard face.
My eyes burned with bitter hatred.
“Tell me everything…”
Eighteen
Sarah
The Next Morning
Daylight was already streaming through the light, floral curtains as I groggily opened my eyes.
Sunshine… how long was I asleep?
A glance at my watch answered that. My lazy, pregnant ass had apparently not only slept all damn night, but almost through to lunch.
I groaned, slowly peeling myself up from the comfortable bed. It took me a few seconds of sleepily eying my surroundings to remember the nice elderly couple that had taken us in…
Oh, my spirits fell.
That’s when I remembered why…
There wasn’t much point in sulking in bed, and I had to get up and have the pee of my life. I pulled on my pants from yesterday and wandered out into the hallway, fumbling around with the doors as I searched for their bathroom.
That was one thing I was definitely looking forward to when I finally had Connor in my arms: no more desperate races to the toilet.
Once I was finished and had washed my face, I followed the sounds of activity towards the living room. While I couldn’t find Russell or Hunter anywhere in the house, Elaine was here.
Well, technically.
The kind woman who had taken such pity on me was snoring away, deep asleep in her chair in front of the television.
Old people and their midday naps, I grinned.
The couple had made it clear that I was more than welcome to any food I wanted. From the way they said it, it seemed like Elaine was just happy to have someone to cook for.
After a quick glance in the fridge, I dug out what looked like leftover casserole. It still looked good, so I heated myself up a plate.
I wondered where the men might have gone off to. It was then that it occurred to me to check for the motorcycle, so I let the dish cool down on the countertop while I quietly popped open the front door. I looked over to the driveway. Nothing. So I found my way into the garage, seeing no evidence of either the bike or that Grand Marquis.
It occurred to me that he would have texted me, so I went back to the guest bedroom and looked around for my phone. It was there, sitting on the end table, but…
“Dead,” I muttered aloud.
In the chaos of leaving Dad’s house, we hadn’t been able to grab an
y of our things. That included our cell phone chargers, and I’d stupidly let my phone drain a large chunk of its battery before we even had our big fight with my Dad…
“Oh well,” I set it back down. “They must be down at the shop, getting the bike looked at.”
I hoped that it was an easy fix.
I didn’t want to overstay our welcome here.
But that wasn’t the only reason, and I knew it. After his terrifying stunt, I wanted to put as many goddamn miles as I could between my asshole father and the rest of my family.
Feeling fat with baby weight, I waddled back into the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water and scooping up my dish. I plunked myself down on the sofa near her and idly watched television. She’d dozed off to ancient re-runs of The Price is Right, and I couldn’t be bothered with channel hopping, so I avidly watched Bob Barker do his thing for a while.
It was two hours later and halfway into a compelling episode of Matlock before Elaine, bless her old heart, finally burst awake with a start. She glanced over at me, blinking her eyes rapidly.
“Oh good!” I smiled. “You’re awake.”
Her face turned warm. “So are you! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a woman sleep like that.” She reached over tenderly, patting my hand. “You poor dear, you must have been exhausted! Are you feeling better?”
“Much, thank you.”
“Good, good,” she nodded, before exclaiming: “Oh! Are you hungry? How would you like me to make you something to eat?”
“Thanks, but I’m full for now.”
She almost looked disappointed in that fond way that grandmothers do, when they can’t stuff you full of home-cooked food. “Well, if your mind changes, feel free to tell me.”
“Duly noted. I hope you don’t mind, but I heated up some of those leftovers…”
“Of course not! That’s what they’re there for, after all…” She chuckled lightly, glancing at her watch. “Oh, I overslept for my soaps! Rats. It’s a good thing that the nice neighborhood boy set me up with this newfangled recording box…”
She reached for the television remote. “Now, which leftovers did you say you had?”
“Oh, it was that French green bean casserole of yours,” I noted. “It was delicious! You must get me your recipe for that before we go.”
“Ah yes!” She grinned. “I was fiddling with a few different ingredients on that one, but I think it came out quite nicely. That strapping young man of yours seemed to quite like it, too.”
“Well, that’s even more reason to learn how to cook the dish,” I laughed. “You know what they say about men…”
She grinned. “The way to their hearts…”
“Is through their stomach.”
It felt great to laugh together. Elaine was still chuckling as she played with the buttons on her remote, flipping through TiVo settings.
I looked around the otherwise empty house.
“Speaking of, Elaine… when are our strapping young men getting back from the shop?”
“From the shop?”
An uneasy feeling hit my stomach.
“Yes, the automotive shop…” I looked over at her. “Hunter had that issue fixing his bike engine, remember?”
“Oh, the Robertsons across the street owed us a small favor,” Elaine told me, keeping her eyes on the set. A smile lit up on her face as she pulled up her TV recording. “Their son is a mechanic, so we had the towing people bring it over to their shop. He’s working on it today.”
“So, Russell and Hunter didn’t bring it over?”
“Heavens no,” she chuckled. “That husband of mine is probably still in town, paying bills and running errands. Although,” she added, “by now he’s probably caught in that dreadful traffic…”
“Huh.”
She held the remote up to press play, but paused for a moment.
“Wait. Hunter isn’t here? Dearie, I thought for sure that he would have been back by now, that’s why I left the back door unlocked. He’s been out all night, after all...”
As I processed her words, my uneasy feeling knotted up inside. It was deepening into full-blown paranoia by the second…
“Out all night?”
“Why, yes, he must have been.”
“Elaine… why was he out all night?”
She turned to me, a soft look on her face. “Well,” she reflected for a fleeting moment. “As I recall, he went to try and talk some sense into that father of yours…”
As Elaine predicted, the traffic was terrible.
I glared at the Hispanic cabbie, trying to hold my shit together before I fell completely fucking apart in his backseat.
“Isn’t there a faster way?”
“No,” he noted calmly.
“It’s literally a matter of life or death!”
“I can’t control traffic,” he spoke robotically. “This is a bad time to drive in the city.”
My frustration was at its peak.
Hunter hated my dad, and for damn good reasons. After being handed the most justifiable excuse in the world, I didn’t have any idea what must have gotten into his head…
I started to sob.
Of course I knew why he went back.
I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.
“You did it because of me,” I mumbled as the tears started to well up again. “You did it because I told you how much it meant to me… and you’ve put yourself back in danger to try and give me what I wanted…”
They flowed down my face.
“Oh Hunter… I don’t fucking deserve you. I’ve never deserved a man like you…”
The cabbie was looking at me in the rearview mirror, a grimace on his face. Yeah, go on, I glared at him. Judge me. See if I fucking care. My man’s life is in goddamn danger.
He might already be dead…
The thought only made me sob harder.
“Maybe I can find a faster way,” the cabbie quickly blurted out in obvious discomfort. “I can find a shortcut. Maybe here.”
He cut the wheel and took us on a sharp left, pulling into a side street. I was only barely aware that he had pulled out his phone and was poking in the address.
“Faster way,” he nervously chuckled.
Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of my father’s house. I hastily ripped out the twenty that Elaine had given me and shoved it into his hand.
“This is not enough–”
I growled at him.
“Okay. Have a good day.”
The cabbie quickly pulled off, leaving me on the side of the road.
Silence quickly fell over the neighborhood.
I turned on my heel, brushing away my tears with the sleeve of my blouse. In the act of drying my face, I reached deep down inside and dragged up every last bit of resentment I had for him.
“You have always opposed us, Dad,” I bitterly snarled to myself. The rage was building in my heart to a fever pitch. “But this shit ends now. I swear, if you’ve harmed the father of my son in any way, I’ll fucking bury you myself…”
I stormed up to the door.
I hammered it with the side of my fist until, half a minute later, it finally swung open.
My father stood quietly.
“Sarah…” He shielded his eyes from the sun. He stunk of alcohol, and it utterly repulsed me. “I didn’t think you would come back.”
“What the fuck have you done?”
He glowered at me.
“You never, ever spoke to me like this before that shit-stain sauntered back into your life…” He scratched at his throat with his fingertips, eying me carefully. “You only continue to convince me that I was right in keeping him away from you.”
I grabbed him by the collar, startling him.
“Where…is… Hunter?”
My father added a grin with that glare.
“Long gone,” he chuckled. “Tell me, Sarah… is this what you’ve become? Is it? After everything I’ve done for you, after doing my best to
raise you alone… Are you truly capable of trying to get what you want out of me by using force?”
He was right, although it pained me to realize that. Maybe it wouldn’t matter if I turned on him. As stubborn as I was, there was no denying that my father was the master of the art.
I released my grip.
“That’s what I thought…”
I saw that I had a choice here.
I could embrace my rising anger anyway, and finally rebel against him the way that he truly deserved… or I could try the diplomatic route, and appeal to his better senses. But I didn’t have a lot of time to decide, and I wondered: which was the better choice?
Grow a spine and vindicate his judgment?
Or surrender and try to make a deal?
“What will it take for you tell me what happened to my fiancé?” I asked with the heaviest of hearts. “What do you want?”
My father’s smug smile fell.
“You’re finally listening to reason…”
He turned, leaving the door open behind him. Without any other options, I followed the bastard inside, my apprehension rising…
Nineteen
Sarah
An ominous air hung over the house.
My unborn child was awake, wreaking havoc on my bladder. Driven by my latest need for a desperate pee break, I brushed past my father and dove for the bathroom.
You know Mommy loves you, Connor.
But for the love of God, calm down!
Afterwards, I found my father standing in the hallway, as stiff as ever. He was calmly looking at the dozens of family photos we’d always kept up for posterity.
I followed his glance.
Wait…
These had been such a mainstay in my youth that I hadn’t paid any attention to them lately. But for the first time since Hunter and I came to visit, I noticed something had changed.
They were spaced differently.
There were even new frames.
“I haven’t seen these pictures before,” I noted, glancing at the vertical settings. Both of the ones I didn’t recognize had five photos apiece. Some of the photos were slightly rearranged to adjust, and there was a younger boy I wasn’t familiar with…
