Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1)

by Marita A. Hansen

  Sinh uncovered his face, anger now colouring his beautiful features. “I’m not like you!” he yelled back. “I can’t get a publisher at the drop of a hat. I have to do everything myself if I want to be published. Publishers don’t care about gay love stories. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

  “You did have a choice. You could’ve asked me to approach my publisher, but instead you went behind my back—”

  “Your publisher doesn’t print gay erotica.”

  “He might’ve known someone who does.”

  “Even if he did, you would’ve been too embarrassed to ask.”

  “I would’ve done it for you, especially if it meant saving eight grand of my own damn money.”

  “Our money.”

  “No, it’s my money. We’re not married.”

  Hurt flashed across Sinh’s face. “But we’ve lived together for four years now.”

  “Living together and being married isn’t the same thing.”

  “But we act like a married couple, and I thought you’d marry me if it was legal.”

  “Well, it’s not, and I have no interest in marrying again.”

  “Don’t you love me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “But not like you loved your wife. If she hadn’t died, you would’ve broken things off with me, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done, things were different back then.”

  “So, you do love her more than me?”

  “No, yes, fuck, Sinh! I love you both, so stop making this about who I love more. This is about you spending my money and hiding it from me.”

  “If you didn’t want me touching your money, you shouldn’t have opened joint accounts with me.”

  “I trusted you.”

  “And I trusted you!”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Are you having an affair?”

  My father’s eyes widened. “No! Why would you ask that?”

  “Then why does that female student called Tasha keep phoning you all the time? Have you gotten bored with your gay experiment and decided to go back to pussy?” he said, his voice dripping with contempt.

  “No! I have no interest in that girl, she’s just a coordinator.”

  “Like I was! Yet you fucked me behind your wife’s back. How do I know you’re not doing the same with this Tasha?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “You supposedly loved your wife, yet you still had an affair with me.”

  “You’re different.” My father took hold of Sinh’s arms. “You’re so beautiful I couldn’t help myself. I’m not a strong person, Sinh.”

  “Which means you could cheat on me when the next pretty little thing comes along.”

  “I wouldn’t cheat on you. I truly do love you.”

  “You don’t show it.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re mad, and you can’t blame me for getting angry with you. Eight grand, Sinh. Eight grand.”

  Sinh lifted his chin up defiantly. “I didn’t lose it; I invested it in my book.”

  “How much return have you gotten from it?”

  Sinh pulled a face.

  “I guess that answers my question.” My father let him go. “Please tell me you didn’t ruin our credit cards too?”

  Sinh didn’t reply.

  My father ran a hand through his hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you to look after the banking. Can you at least tell me how much I can lend Clara?”

  Sinh mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

  “That’ll only cover one of their fares,” my father snapped, making Sinh jump.

  Sinh burst into tears and ran for the passage, disappearing through the doorway. My father ran after him, a door slamming a second later. Banging started up.

  “Stop being a drama queen!” my father yelled. “Let me in!”

  “No!”

  My father continued to yell at Sinh to open the door. I pushed up off the couch, feeling bad I’d started a war between the two. I headed through the passage doorway, stopping behind my father.

  He ceased banging on the door and turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Clara. Please excuse Sinh. He’s an emotional person. Things set him off easily.”

  “I’m not emotional!” Sinh yelled from the other side of the door. “You’re just heartless.”

  My father exhaled loudly. “See? You can’t reason with him.”

  “Stop talking about me!” Sinh hollered.

  “Then, stop acting like a child and let me in.”

  “No! I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

  My father yelled out, looking incredibly frustrated, the most frustrated I’d ever seen him, since he was usually a calm man. Even when I was naughty as a child, he never lost his cool.

  “I should go,” I said, again feeling bad.

  He placed a hand on my arm. “I’ll cover your husband’s ticket. Get the account details and how much I have to pay. I’ll sort it out.”

  I nodded, not having the liberty to turn the offer down. “I really appreciate this, and I’m sorry for causing you trouble with Sinh.”

  “Forget about it, he’s always like this.” He directed me back into the lounge. “If he doesn’t get his way he throws a tantrum, then locks himself in our room. He’ll be out when he’s gets hungry. I’ll apologise and he’ll be all happy again.”

  “You shouldn’t have to apologise, he’s the one who’s in the wrong. He spent your money.”

  “This isn’t about the money; it’s about me not treating him the way he thinks he should be treated.”

  “As a kept man?” I said, now having a reason to dislike Sinh. I hadn’t realised he mooched off my father until now. But then again, I knew nothing about their relationship.

  My father shook his head. “It’s not like that. He’s committed to me, more than I am to him. He wants us to get a civil union and I won’t. And the fact I called it my money probably comes across to him that he’s just a live-in-lover, which he’s not. He’s my partner.”

  “Partners shouldn’t hide things as big as this from one another,” I said, feeling like a hypocrite as soon as the words had left my mouth. I just had to be thankful that bang had stopped me from kissing Dante, because I knew I wouldn’t have confessed what I’d done to Markus.

  “I can’t judge Sinh for keeping this from me, especially since I’ve done considerably worse,” he replied, his expression telling me he was talking about cheating on my mother. “Anyway, you should get back to your husband.”

  “His name’s Markus.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You should get back to Markus, then.”

  I nodded, giving him a soft smile.

  “And pass on my condolences,” he added.

  “You can do that in person, if you want.”

  “He’s probably too upset to have a stranger suddenly showing up.”

  “You’re not a stranger, you’re my dad.”

  “No, I am a stranger. I said hi to him once when I saw him walking up your footpath. He nodded back, then disappeared inside your house. I’m not sure he realised who I was.”

  “Dad, he would have. We look too much alike. He just probably didn’t feel comfortable with talking to you since he thought I hated you.”

  His face dropped. “Did you tell him you hate me?”

  “No, he assumed. I didn’t realise he thought that until today, but it’s hardly surprising considering I refused to let him send a wedding invite to you.”

  My father’s face saddened.

  I placed a hand on his arm. “That was wrong of me. What you did angered me greatly, but I still shouldn’t have cut you completely out of my life. It was selfish of me.”

  He shook his head. “I deserved it.”

  “Not to the extent I went.” I exhaled. “Let’s put that aside and go see Markus. He’ll appreciate what you’re doing for him and will want to thank you in person.” I headed for the door.

  My father follow
ed me out. “What’s he like?”

  I slowed down so he could walk alongside me. “Really nice. People love him, especially kids. He’s a teacher too.”

  My father smiled. “An English teacher?”

  I shook my head as I walked through his gate. “A P.E. teacher. It’s one of the reasons why he was happy to move to New Zealand. He’s a water freak and absolutely adores the beach. He also thinks it’ll be a great place to raise kids.”

  My father smiled wider. “Am I going to be a grandpa soon?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” I replied, heading up my driveway.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to wait, while he wants them now. I only want one child, while he wants a whole soccer team.”

  “We’re so much alike. Your mother used to pester me for more kids, but I only wanted you.”

  I opened my front door, knowing he didn’t realise just how much alike we were.

  22

  DANTE

  I slammed my bedroom door shut, shouting, “Leave me the fuck alone!”

  My father kicked the other side of my door. “You li’l shit! I don’t wanna see your thieving face for the rest of the night!”

  “I don’t wanna see your face either!”

  My father yelled out and kicked my door again, the toe of his boot breaking through it.

  “Shit, Dad, you’re busting my door! The landlord will go mental.”

  “It’s better than kicking the shit outta you. I’m sick of cleaning up your fuckin’ messes. We needed that bail money for rent.”

  “Yeah, the money I earned.”

  “Pro’bly from selling stolen hubcaps. You could go back to juvie for this!”

  “I won’t if you make those pricks drop the charges.”

  “Is that all I’m good for? Saving your neck from bein’ locked up.”

  “Well, you ain’t good for paying the fuckin’ rent!”

  He yelled out and kicked the door again, making a bigger hole. “You’re an utter bastard, Dante! Sooner or later I’m not gonna be there to clean up your messes.”

  He stormed off, the front door slamming a moment later. I ran to my window and peered through the blinds as he slipped out through the gate, locking it behind him. He cut across the road, banging on Jasper’s front door. Jasper’s father appeared a few seconds later. My father started yelling so loud I could hear part of what he was saying, which was basically that he’d had to bail me out of jail for trying to steal some hubcaps from some mechanics. Jasper’s father placed his hands on my father’s shoulders, quietening him down. He ushered my father inside, returning with him a minute later, the both of them heading for Hemi’s car. They jumped in and backed out of the driveway, then sped off down the road like a bat out of hell.

  I let go of the blinds and slumped down on my bed, knowing I’d fucked up bad this time. I just hoped my father got me off or I would definitely be facing juvie again. I hadn’t realised the mechanics were onsite when I’d broke in to steal some expensive hubcaps, which I wanted for the car my father and Hemi were making me. I should’ve cased out the joint better, but had been distracted with thinking about Mrs. Hatton, wondering what she’d been doing at the time. She hadn’t been at school today, a substitute taking her place. It was just lucky my father had bailed me out, especially since I’d been stuck in a cell with a pervy crim, who’d stared at me like he wanted to make me his prison bitch.

  Needing a distraction, I headed out of my room to size-up the damage my father had done to the door. I shook my head at the boot-sized hole, knowing there was no way in hell we would ever get our bond money back if we moved. The amount of damage my father was doing to the house was racking up by the day. A few weeks ago, he’d put his fist through his bedroom wall after an ex had yelled at him. She’d ran out of that room so fast, screaming as though he’d hit her. She didn’t return, and thank Christ for that, since she was a whinging bitch who constantly complained that he was a tight bastard. He wasn’t tight; he was fucking poor, which was why he couldn’t buy her all the shit she wanted. I was sure the only reason she’d lasted so long with him was because he made her scream to God when they had sex. Another reason why I was glad she was gone, because if I had to hear them going at it one more time I would scream.

  I slouched off to the lounge, wondering what I was going to do until my dad got back, knowing he’d do his nut if I left the house. I grabbed the TV remote and slumped down onto the couch, surfing the channels, thinking everything sucked. A flash of blonde caught my attention. I flicked back to the programme, recognising one of the actresses from Shortland Street, the chick’s hair reminding me of Mrs. Hatton’s.

  I switched the TV off and leaned over to grab the phone book off the side table, thinking of the perfect way to pass some time. I flicked through the pages, looking for Mrs. Hatton’s phone number, finding only two Hattons, one in West Auckland, the other out east. Since the East Auckland one was closer, I rang that number, wondering what excuse I was going to use for calling her if she answered. Actually ... I didn’t need one, since she owed me some tutorials.

  A moment later her voice came over the line. “Markus?”

  “You can call me whatever you like,” I replied, wondering whether Markus was her husband.

  A sharp inhale answered me.

  “You got asthma or are you just excited to hear me?”

  “How’d you get my number, Dante?” she barked.

  I smiled, imagining her screaming my name instead. In ecstasy. I almost laughed at the thought.

  “Dante? You still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then, answer my question.”

  “Duh, I got it from the phone book.”

  “It’s not in the phone book. I haven’t been living here long enough.”

  “It’s in the new one. Check it.”

  “Whatever, what do you want?”

  “Rude, much.”

  “It’s late, so answer me.”

  “I’m ringing to fix a time for a tutor lesson,” I replied, wondering whether she was in bed. Naked. “Can I come over tomorrow?” I added, refraining from putting emphasis on the come, not wanting her to hang up on me.

  “No, we’ll do it at school, during lunch break.”

  “I can’t, I’ve got an appointment then.” With the cops.

  “Then straight after school in the English class.”

  “It’ll need to be later. I’ve got detention cos Mr. Aston’s a cunt.”

  She exhaled loudly. “What did you do now?”

  “The other day he wuz running through the corridor looking like a right spaz, so I yelled out, asking if he wuz training for the Special Olympics.”

  “That’s not funny, Dante.”

  “Well, I thought it wuz, until he slapped me with detention, which pissed me off, so I gave him the finger, which got me another detention. Anyway, can we make the tutorial at my house? I live real close to school.”

  “Sorry, I can’t, I need to do some work at home.”

  “Okay, I’ll come to your place.”

  “You don’t need to come over; we’ll just set the tutorial for another day.”

  “No, it has to be tomorrow or my dad will lose his shit.” A lie. “Since I paid you, he wants his money’s worth.” Not a lie.

  “It wasn’t his money, it was yours.”

  “As I said at school, we take a cut of each other’s earnings. So, what time do you want me over?”

  She didn’t reply, making me wonder whether she was trying to think up an excuse to put me off, like she’d tried to do at school.

  “How about seven?” I asked before she could find one.

  “Fine.”

  I smiled. “See ya then.”

  “What about class?”

  “I already said I have an appointment.”

  “Only for lunch.”

  “And the morning. It’s gonna take a while.”

  “What’s it for?”

  I smiled. �
��You interested in my personal life?”

  “No, I’m interested in your education.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Dante.”

  “Chill, I’m just joking.”

  “While I’m quite serious. You either tell me why you won’t be at school or I’ll be having a talk to the principal about your atrocious attendance record.”

  “I’m gettin’ some braces put on my teeth,” I lied.

  “But they’re straight.”

  “So am I, so buy some nice lingerie for our date.” Laughing, I hung up, tomorrow night not coming fast enough. I just hoped my dad got me off the charges, or the only date I would be having was with a judge.

  ***

  “I don’t know why you put your father through so much shit,” Hemi said, pulling up to the kerb in front of Mrs. Hatton’s house. Jasper’s dad had offered to give me a lift, since my father was doing overtime to make up for the hours he’d lost having to take me to the cops to sort shit out with them, which he had. I’d found out last night both him and Hemi had worked out where one of the mechanics had lived. They’d threatened him to get the charges dropped, which he had, my father getting me off scot-free.

  Jasper’s dad pulled on the brake and turned to give me a glare. Hemi was even fatter than his son, the man as big as two mountains. “You’re such a li’l bastard,” he said, his voice gravelly from smoking too much.

  “While you’re a fat bastard.”

  A slap landed across the back of my head.

  “Hey!” I yelled, throwing Hemi a glare. He was glaring right back, not looking sorry at all for hitting me. “I’m bruised enough as it is, you don’t needa add more to my collection.”

  “Then you shoulda thought ’bout that before you got yourself caught for stealing.”

  I sniffed, thinking it was rich coming from him. “You steal cars, while all I did wuz try to steal some hubcaps. Big difference, you fat fuck.”

  He raised his hand, looking like he was going to hit me again, but instead he hit the steering wheel. “Firstly, I’m not stupid enough to get caught, and secondly, I’m a crook, while your father isn’t. He doesn’t deserve this shit.”

  I sneered at him, the guy thicker than two short planks. “Grow a brain; he spray-paints the cars you steal. That makes him a crim.”