As drunk as he is, our father walks steadily over to where Jenise sits. His small frame seems gigantic.
I watch in horror as my sister screams, “Get away from me! Stop slapping my arm!”
“Shut up!” My father’s jaw clenches. His hands raise and curl into fists. They're in her face. Will one more insult make him unravel completely?
“Make me, mother fucker!” Jenise screams.
The nightmare begins.
Our father puts his hands around my sister’s neck.
For the second time in her young life, my sister understands the strength of a man.
This time the violence is from someone she loves.
This time it’s someone she lives with.
Before tonight, she was certain her own father would never go this far. Before tonight, all of us were certain the safety of our lives was guaranteed at home.
Our dad was small—five-feet, eight-inches, and 145 pounds. Still, the strength he had was no match for a sixteen-year-old girl, especially when the drunken rage of hate filled him.
Jenise stops screaming.
Her hands fall from his arms.
She’s passing out.
Our father is choking her to death.
Her face turns red.
His throat is tight.
Her eyes are glazed and losing focus.
His mouth is twisted.
She struggles for breath.
His eyes fill with hate.
The color of her face deepens in red as each second passes.
Her head started to fall forward.
This can’t be my family. I know it is, I know it is, but . . .
Even with all that had happened, none of us could have imagined Dad attacking us this way.
I can’t move nor can I run under the table and out of the room. I'm afraid if I leave, the next time I see my sister, she’ll be dead.
I'm looking on, watching someone else’s family falling apart, the horror filling my body.
Finally, my mother makes her move. She gets up from the only single chair at the table and joins the violence. Because of her job at Juvenile Hall, she’s trained in judo and martial arts. She’s a strong woman and she is able to pull them apart.
First, boys that my sister saw every day raped her.
Then her father, the man who was supposed to protect and love her, attacks and violates her safety.
A new kind of violence reveals its ugliness.
What does trust mean to us now? “Safe in our own home.” What did those words mean after my father broke an invisible boundary of safety?
We couldn’t trust those familiar faces at school, because they might rape or attack us. We couldn't trust those who were supposed to love us at home because they could kill us.
The night my father tried to choke my sister, we understood our lives would never be the same. After that, we knew it didn’t matter what we did to protect ourselves.
When my father goes to bed, we begin to settle down.
My sister calms herself.
Of course, Mom tries to sweep what happened away with the nervous laughter that comes to all of us who live in a family battling alcohol addiction. We do it instead of talking about our feelings—words mixed with the sarcasm that joke away the trauma.
Instead of taking my sister in her arms, Mom scolds Jenise. I knew Mom was in shock, still trying to shove away this new horror. I wondered if her brain was stuck, repeating: My husband just tried to kill our daughter.
What new evil would she have to face, support, and nurture?
“You can’t win a physical battle with a man. What were you thinking?” These are the words my mother offers to Jenise for comfort.
How would we survive now that we needed to protect our very lives from our own father?
The security we’re supposed to feel with our parents—tucking us in, holding us, and protecting us—they were all stripped away.
The only thing Mom could say to my sister was she should’ve known better.
That night brought it all together.
I finally understood what addiction meant.
After riding with Dad to and from the bar, him drunk at the wheel.
After watching my sister’s face shoved into the creamed corn, and then whipped.
After watching my father choke his own daughter even as her body began to die and give up.
After forcing me to listen to him as he sat on my bed, hugging me as he reeked of alcohol, night after night, drunk, stinking, and numbed.
After witnessing his punches to my mother’s stomach because she wouldn’t give him a drink.
After hearing him yell, his argument running up and down our hallway, letting his daughters know the anger he had because Mom didn’t give him enough sex—even as his body wreaked.
AN ADDICT HAS NO CONSCIENCE.
Chapter 23
Exposed in a Naked Dream
After purchasing the tickets for the Goliaths' game, I walked around the corner to the Bay Gate. While waiting for Jerry, I chatted with James at gate security. It was only a few minutes later that Manny, one of those responsible for the players' safety on the field, approached us.
“S’up bro?” he said to James. “You can let Nicky in.”
“Manny.” James acknowledged him and then gave me a peculiar look.
Don't ask me how he knows my name. I've never even talked with him before now.
“No thanks.” I waved him off. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Why don't you call your friend and tell him James has the ticket,” Manny suggested.
“I’ll wait.” I turned my back on him and continued my conversation with James. Thankfully, Jerry came around the corner a few minutes later.
“Wow, you look hot, gorgeous!” He looked me over with new eyes in an exaggerated look from head to toe.
“Shut up, Jerry.” Oh yuck. Why did I do this? Stupid.
“What’s up with the outfit?"
"I don't—"
"If you’re trying to get my attention, uh, you’ve got it.” He bumped my hip with his.
“No, not for attention, it's just . . . I don’t know what it is.” I put my hands on top of my head. “Something's turned in me and I feel like rebelling for a change. I don't know exactly what I want to do about it. This is my weak ass first attempt.”
“Yeeessss,” my Evil Twin hissed.
“Weirdo. You're dressed beyond girly, which you never do. I don’t get you. Although . . . I'd love to help you rebel—especially if this is how you're gonna dress.”
“Deal, but you won't see me in these clothes again. Let’s go inside. See ya, James.”
“Crab sandwich?” Jerry asked, knowing how I loved them. “I'm addicted to those things.”
“I bought the tickets, so yeah, you can get the sandwiches. Oh, and a diet soda please. I’ll get us a table.”
“No way.” He put his arm around my waist, holding me next to his lean body. “Stand in line with me." I didn’t protest. Jerry stood with his arms wrapped around my shoulders and his body pressed against my back. “It feels good to be here like this, doesn't it?"
“Yeah.” It does, but I can't relax. I'm on another mission and I have to check him out.
After getting our food, we walked into the bleachers. I sat down on one of the long metal benches.
“Come down to the railing with me. I want to catch their BP.” Jerry always brought his glove in case there was an opportunity to catch a ball hit into the bleachers during batting practice.
“I’ll just sit here and eat. You go on ahead.”
“Come on, gorgeous. You invited me—remember? Can’t you just be with me for a change, with your mind and body?”
“I’ll be down in a minute.” I just need to observe a second.
“Hurry up.” He took his sandwich and drink with him.
As I took a bite of the delicious grilled sourdough and melting, buttery crab, I watched Ryan’s long body standing in the outfield.
His pants were tight around his thick thighs and muscular calves. I fell into a scrumptious dream looking at them.
As usual, women were everywhere, focusing especially on the single guys. It was obvious some of them were familiar to the players by the way they got a nod or knowing smile.
Even if Ryan seriously wanted to date me, could I really deal with all the female flesh in his face every day? Did it really matter if we were exclusive? Why wouldn’t I expect he’d feel the same and continue to sample the goods around him? I could learn about sex, and move on a very knowledgeable woman. What was the harm in that?
On the other hand, why would I want to be with someone who had a buffet of sex in his past and present? The thought disgusted me that I might be one of tens or hundreds, but it was also . . . exciting.
I finished my sandwich and then walked down to the railing to be with Jerry.
“Hey Nicky! Nicky!” A man’s voice yelled from behind me. I turned around to see him waving. “Aren’t you Nicky, from the cheer team?”
“Yes, sir,” I yelled back.
“Great job singing on Sunday,” he shouted.
“Thanks!” I answered as loudly as I could, trying to talk over the rising volume as more people filtered into the park.
“I sit here every home game," he said. "The whole section really enjoys your team."
“Thank you, sir. We love doing it.”
“No rest for the wicked I guess, huh?” He followed his statement with a laugh. "When do you take a day off?"
“I love coming to the Goliaths’ games. I’m a huge fan. This is a great day off for me. Go Goliaths!” I yelled.
“Go Goliaths!” he called back.
Ryan either heard my voice or my name called. When I turned and faced the field, I realized he saw me. His devastating grin seemed to throw a light across the entire stadium.
Oh damn, look at him. My throat—suddenly I don’t feel so confident.
Several cracks of the bat later, a ball flew deep into the outfield. Ryan waved off the other players. He caught it and walked to the railing where we stood. Jerry and everyone close called to him, each fan hoping Ryan would give them the ball. But none of them knew he was on a mission, determined to hand it to my innocent friend.
“What’s your name?” Ryan asked.
“Jerry.”
A knowing smile spread slowly across Ryan’s face.
“Jerry, huh.” He looked at me and then turned his beautiful blue eyes to the boy standing next to me. “You’re a big kid, Jerry, you play ball?”
“Yeah; all through High School and now I'm in the summer and fall leagues." Jerry's face lit up as he spoke with a professional baseball player. "I’m going to play on Stanford’s baseball team next year.”
“Stanford! Congrats!” Ryan turned to me. “That’s a big deal isn’t it, Nick?”
I nodded, understanding his message. It was felt between only our bodies, heard only by our ears, as he said, “I’ve got you now. You played your hand, and I see you.”
Oh that sexy look. He makes my belly squirm.
“You’re dressed . . . a little different today." His blue sapphires narrowed. I could see him analyzing and planning even as he stood in front of me. "I haven’t seen you wear clothes like that before. The T-shirt underneath your jersey doesn’t hide much.”
Ryan only looked into my eyes, allowing me to be safe within my naked dream. Even though I’d exposed my body for him, he never toured any of the areas below my chin.
“No, it doesn’t, and I’ll do what I want, thanks.” I put my arms around Jerry, and gave him a kiss on his lips. Jerry looked at me as if I were from Mars.
“She never does anything like this.” My friend shook his head. “What the hell?”
“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Ryan asked, never looking away from me.
“We’ve known each other all our lives. I’m trying to get her to be my girlfriend. We’re going to college together.”
“Lucky guy. Are you going to commit to be his girlfriend, Nicky?” I started to answer but he continued. “You’ll get cold by the end of the game when that wind starts gusting. Be sure to get your boyfriend’s jacket later.” He turned to Jerry. “Make sure she’s covered up.”
“I will. Thanks for the ball, Mr. Tilton.” After the man who made my knees weak walked away, Jerry remarked, “Your kiss was weird. What’s up with that?”
“Are you complaining?” I teased, trying to cover up my fear and confusion. My belly felt as if fingers were inside stroking me from within.
“Oh no, not complaining, just unexpected.”
“I know,” I admitted. “It's that rebellion pushing out. I’m out of balance today or something.”
“Tilton knew your name. That’s from you being on the cheer team, right?” Jerry asked.
“Yes, but . . .” Count to three. “Last year we volunteered together at the Veterans’ Hospital in Yountville.”
“You volunteered together?” His voice rose as he emphasized the words. “You mean the whole cheer team, right?”
“Um, no.” Get ready. “Just us.”
“Well, that’s . . . how I should I feel?” He looked confused.
“What the hell do you mean?” The feathers rose up on the back of my neck as if I were an angry rooster. “You and I are not a thing, and until recently, we weren’t any more than friends. And stop calling me gorgeous.” Why did I just add that? God.
“You’re right about us, but there’s something . . . it’s as if he’s looking to take you for a long ride.” Jerry tossed the baseball Ryan had given him in the air and then caught it. “He’s interested in a relationship that's way more than only being friends. I think he wants your sex. With all the women he’s got, I wonder why he’d want you?”
Wow! That's really . . . wow. My friend just insulted me. Maybe, we’ll just find out why.
“He’s a gentleman. Easy to talk with,” I reaffirmed. “Plus, our fathers were in the military. We have that in common.” Of course, I didn’t reveal any of the comments Ryan made last year, nor did I tell him about all the luscious kisses I received on my front porch.
“How many times did you guys go to Yountville together?”
“Several.” I wish you’d drop it.
“Huh. It was weird he commented on your T-shirt, too. Kinda ballsy of him to say you needed something to cover up. What difference does it make to him?”
“I don’t know. Come on, fuhgeddaboudit,” I teased, socking his upper arm playfully.
We didn’t talk about Ryan until late in the game. Just before the ninth inning, Manny made another appearance. This time he approached Jerry.
“Ryan Tilton invited you both to the players’ lot. Would you like to go?”
"Hell yeah! Cool!" Jerry exclaimed.
"Here you go." Manny gave Jerry the two gate passes. “Give them to security at the gate.” He looked at me, smiled, and walked away.
What’s up with that look? Oh, damn! Should I be worried?
“Maybe I was wrong about Tilton. This is just because you know him?”
“I don’t have that kind of influence. I'm sure it’s because you guys talked baseball.” I tried to appeal to his ego.
“Do you have time to go with me? Please, please?" He pouted.
Oh hell no, I don’t want to be that close in the players’ lot.
“Why don’t you go ahead? I should be getting home."
“Oh, come on, come with me,” he pleaded.
I gave in. It was a decision that blew a door wide open for me; the kind that meant once I stepped through, I'd never be the same.
We offered our passes to security and were let inside the gate.
“I’ll wait over there against the wall.” I pointed to a spot where I could stay hidden away from the players as they entered and then exited the parking lot.
“Okay, I’m gonna stand close to the door where the guys come out to see if I can get an autograph." Jerry nodded and jogged
to where he thought he'd have the best chance to meet the players.
I watched for Ryan, careful to position myself behind other people so he wouldn’t see me when he exited from the clubhouse. As soon as he walked into the lot, the air seemed to crackle. His eyes carved away the people standing in front of me, one by one, honing in on my location.
Out of nowhere, a beautiful, blonde woman approached him.
I knew it! There’s the lady he set up for his evening! Any moment he’ll take her arm in his, walk her to his car, and they’ll drive away to God knows where.
Instead, I was shocked it was she who tugged on his arm, trying to get him to pay attention. Her voice escalated and her hands became dramatic as she drew her frustrations in the air.
He never even looked at her.
I wonder if that’s Jesse.
I tried to study her features, but became distracted when I heard Matt yell my name. It turned out I stood next to a friend of his and he walked over to say hello to the both of us.
Those blue eyes I was so curious to know more intimately, the ones I thought were enchanting, followed Matt closely. When they saw me, it was as if a spotlight turned on.
Even as he talked with Jerry and signed his glove, his wry grin bloomed. He looked up every few seconds to see if I was alone.
As soon as Matt walked away, Ryan shook Jerry’s hand and left the blonde with an open mouth, as if she were silently screaming his name.
I was in such a state of panic, smitten with the man coming my way, I forgot to check and see what her reaction was when he walked over to me.
I should’ve looked.
I should’ve understood.
Chapter 24
I’m Shivering
Oh damn, here he comes. I think my ears just closed. I can’t hear anything.
I had nowhere to go.
I watched Ryan’s big body become gigantic as he came near me. He wore a suede jacket with a furry collar, which he took off as he stood in front of me.
“Here, put this on.” His muscular arms held out the Overland jacket. “It's obvious your boyfriend doesn’t know how to treat a woman. He leaves you shivering in the fog and wind," he shook his head. "Isn't he a local boy?”
Shadow Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 1) Page 15
