Ali shook her head, partially in disbelief, but mostly in a sad understanding. “Yeah. Fair enough.”
Owen slowly rubbed his dry, dirty, and scratched hands together as he continued. “Anyway, I’m surprised all Roy did was give us a month off to get our shit together. He’s usually the type to threaten to get what he wants. I knew if I had a month, I could think of something, but at the moment, I was just glad to be alive. And that’s when I went into the house.”
“And...” That's all Ali could say. She knew what was coming.
“Yeah. That's when I came in and found her.” A brief pause came over the room. Austin had muted the television in an attempt to hear what was going on. Once he lost interest from the purposed silence, Owen felt the need to apologize. “Baby, I am sorry you had to see that.”
“It still haunts me. Whenever I lay my head on my pillow or sometimes when I fucking hallucinate, I still see Mommy. Her eyes wide open, just...staring at nothing. Sometimes, I feel limp and my throat tightens up. It’s scary. I’d rather not sleep than feel like that.”
“I know. I know exactly what you mean. I can't have a dream without her in it,” said Owen. “Let me tell you something. I doubt you want to hear it, but it is the God’s honest truth. Just like you needed to binge so you don’t sleep, I need…needed…to fuck other women. I needed the feel of their skin, the touch of their lips on mine, and other feels that I shouldn’t be taking about with my daughter. Because when I am with another woman, I don't have that dream about Patricia. That’s how it used to be back then anyway. But even that started changing as the years went by. Eventually, it didn’t matter what I did. She’d be with me every night.
“Every dream I have with her...hell, it is more like a nightmare. Every single night. It doesn’t matter if I drink myself to oblivion. She’s always right there, staring at me until I wake up. She tells me in this loud shrill scream that it is all my fault. She’s probably right.”
Ali finished the shot and helped herself by pouring another one. Noticing her father had also completed his portion, she quietly poured a shot for him also. Whether she cared for her father's self-pity was unknown, but Owen took consolation in the fact that his daughter wasn’t berating or screaming at him. Mimicking the sound of a machine gun with his lips, he prepared himself to finish the story.
“A month passed, and-”
“Dad, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you visited Mom’s grave?”
Owen blinked repeatedly and took in a shallow breath. “No. Not since we put her in the ground. No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I just can’t. I can’t face her, even if I am just facing a big hunk of limestone.”
“Dad…”
“I’m just going to move on with the story, okay?”
Ali showed her dejection. “Fine.”
Owen felt visible relief by not having to explain why he refused to visit Patricia’s grave. He just couldn’t face the pain he knew he would experience if he went there. “Alright. A month passed. I think you were with your friend across the pasture again. I think you had just started talking again and you sure as hell didn’t want to be around me. Well, sure enough, Roy came back on the exact day of the month and probably the same exact time too if I could have told you when he came the first time. I remember, it was a cloudy day. I think a front was coming in. There may have been some thunder in the distance. I can’t remember every detail of it, but I do remember there being clouds blocking out the sun.
“He pulled up in that ridiculous truck, blasting Pantera’s Cowboys from Hell. If you think mine has too much of a lift, his would have blown your mind. Anyway, he heard the news. He knew that Patricia had passed. Even if she was the driving force behind all the wheeling and dealing, he still wanted me to pick up right where she left off. I had a lump in my throat and a butterfly swimming around in my guts, but I told him I still wasn’t interested. I wanted to stay clean and leave that shit behind. But, Roy didn’t like me. He never liked me. I think he still would have hated me even if we weren’t members of our families. Instead of letting me move on, Roy kept badgering me. He got a big cut from all the hard work Patricia did, and he didn’t want to see that money stop coming to him.”
Ali rose from the table to check on Austin before sitting back down. Once settled, her attention was back on her father.
“He didn’t like me saying no, so out of the blue, he pulls out his gun. Simple 9 millimeter handgun. He didn't aim it at me directly. It was basically a test to see if I would break and bend to his will just by seeing the gun. At that time, I realized I had left my gun on my dresser. All I had on me was a pocket knife that my father gave me when I was eight years old. I’ll admit that I was scared. I almost succumbed to his wishes because I wanted to freaking live. I knew I still needed to be alive for you. But even if I did do what Roy wanted, that was no life for me and it sure as hell was no life for you.
“While I was flipping out, thinking of what the hell to do for us to stay alive, he started pacing back and forth. Now, as long as I had known the guy, Roy had always been a pacer. Before a baseball game, he’d pace. While he was bullying some random kid after class, he’d pace as he waited for the kid to give him what he wanted. But, I knew something. The Graysons, with the exception of my dear grandson over there, are dumb as hell. If Roy didn’t cheat off of all the girls he banged in high school, there was no way in hell he could have passed. He-.”
“You’re rambling, Dad.”
“Right…anyway, he started pacing, playing with his gun, telling me to hurry the hell up with my decision that was being forced on me, giving me a look every now and then. But he barely paid any actual attention to me. So, I made my own choice. I would do absolutely everything I could to keep you away from that life.”
Owen paused to look at his daughter. She had her head turned toward the kitchen, refusing to make eye contact.
“The moment he turned his back on me, I darted at him, stuck that pocket knife deep in the back of his neck. His complacent ass never saw it coming. I bet in a million years he would have never thought someone would take a shot at him. Pretty sure I paralyzed him, because he just dropped to the ground. Then, I lifted his head up, and as hard as I could, I slit his throat from one end of the neck to the other. If there was one thing I remember, it was my white gravel driveway turning blood red.”
“Fuck. Dad. Wow. And now Clint…oh shit, and Scar knows.”
“Scar’s had an idea this whole time. I never revealed anything or told him, but anyone in the know in the Roaring 20’s knows that I was the last person he visited.”
“What have you been telling them all these years?”
“That he went on his way after we talked.”
“Where is he, really?”
“His truck was crushed and ripped apart. Had some help from a scrapyard owner. I buried his body in a marshy area out on Lake Fork. The kind of area no one would bother venturing into.”
Ali quickly rose from her chair, bumping the table in the process and causing her newly poured shot to spill slightly. She grabbed her hair and paced through the kitchen, clearly unnerved and alarmed. She still tried to maintain a restrained voice so Austin didn’t hear. “Dad, they are going to kill you!”
“I am well aware of this, daughter. You get why I have these guns out?”
“Fuck. It’s not just you, Dad. Do you not realize what Clint will do to me!? He will beat the shit out of me. He might do more than that. I can’t go home. I…What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I won’t let him touch you or Austin. You are welcome to stay here.”
Ali only answered by pacing and muttering the words “Oh my god,” repeatedly.
Owen rapidly got up from his chair and placed both of his arms on Ali's shoulders. “Calm the hell down. They are after me, not you.”
“Clint don’t give a damn. He’s hit me for way fuckin’ less.
”
“Just stay with me and calm down. I’ll make sure everything will be fine.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna try to take out Clint again?” harshly whispered Ali. “Regardless of what you think of him, he is still Austin’s daddy. He’s going to be devastated if you do somehow manage to end him.”
“I’m aware of it, but it is something that has to be done if I want to assure your safety.”
“Assure my safety? What the hell? Why are you trying to assure my safety?”
“I just am, okay?”
Ali glared at him with confusion and worry, backing away from his arms. “What the hell is this for? You basically never gave a shit about me, and now you are trying to, what’s that word? Liberate me from my abusive fiancé? Why are you doing this now, huh? Waiting almost ten years to do this? Seriously, give me a good answer.”
Owen did his best not to show any emotion on his face, but the way his hand trembled picking up and holding the shot glass betrayed those notions.
“Well?” asked Ali.
He carefully placed the shot glass to his lips and consumed the bourbon before answering. “It’s something I’ve wanted…needed to do for a while. But, something has come up that made me need to do this now.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Ali. I have cirrhosis of the liver.”
“What’s that?”
“My liver isn’t working right. It’s scarred up. It’s failing. It’s failing so badly that…well, I probably don’t have a lot of time left.”
Ali appeared unfazed. “Then get it fixed.”
“It’s beyond fixing. I need a transplant, and that’s probably not going to happen for some months, possibly a year. The chances of me being alive by then aren’t good.” Owen wanted to let the moment sink in before concluding. “I’m dying, alright?”
While not being the sharpest tool in the shed, she knew enough to form an opinion. “So why are you sittin’ here drinking whiskey if you have liver problems?”
Owen said nothing.
“So what, huh? You were just going to kill Clint and ride off into the sunset?
“Scar, too, if I can.”
“And you were just going to leave us alone? You think that it will help Austin when he knows that his daddy and uncle got murdered by his grandpa? How the fuck would that help him?”
The harshness of Ali’s verbal blows actually made his heart ache. She always had the ability to speak the brutal truth, especially when he was never prepared for it. He’d thought of only Austin’s happiness and future in his own perfect scenario. If Scar and Clint were no longer around, his ability to be influenced by the toxic Graysons would be drastically reduced. Ali would also be free of Clint’s domestic abuse and free to hopefully live a life away from those problems. Whether that causes her own drug and emotional problems to cease is another story. But it would be a step in the right path.
However, she had a point. A very strong point, at that. Could Austin, a young boy at the age of nine, emotionally and mentally recover from all of this? Could he keep moving on knowing that his grandfather, someone he loved, killed his father and uncle? Would he grow up hating Owen for the rest of his life? Of course, Owen would be in the afterlife and would never have a clue who loved or hated him. But he didn’t want his last thoughts to be questioning whether he made the right choice.
Hard choices were meant to be difficult. He could almost guarantee that his choice to end Clint and Scar would be better for Austin in the long run. Maybe one day the boy would forgive his old grandfather, if he did indeed despise him. But for now, his decision would remain the same.
“Yes, I do believe this will help Austin. It will help you, too. If I’m gonna die, I’d rather die knowing you two are safe and away from those idiots.”
“You’re so stupid, dad. So fucking stupid. You’re so skinny and weak. You couldn’t even go toe to toe with Clint, and he is scrawny as hell. Did you think what would happen if you fucked up and failed? What if you died trying to do what you think is right? I don’t even want to think about what Clint would do to me.”
“I’m not going to fail.”
“You said yourself you could die any time. What if you died right now, huh? You already lit a flame under Clint’s ass. I bet you the next time he sees me, he is going to turn me all kinds of shades of black and blue. You even going to be alive to protect me? You are an idiot.”
Owen breathed deeply. His stomach was starting to hurt, but he ignored it. For the sake of his family, he couldn’t falter.
Instead of pouring a shot, Ali took a drink straight from the bottle. “And if you don’t fuck up and succeed, you think the rest of the Grayson family won’t be seeking vengeance on you? If you ain’t alive to receive it, that shit falls on your brother and probably me too. Graysons are very vengeful, I have seen it firsthand.”
“Actually, I believe they will be too busy squabbling among themselves to care.”
“You just know this?” sarcastically asked Ali.
“I do.”
Now Ali was speechless.
Austin quietly made his way into the kitchen. “What are you guys yelling about?”
Both were quick to deny any arguing. Ali bent down and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. “Nothing is wrong, Austin. We were just talking.”
“Yeah, bud,” acknowledged Owen. “We’re just chit-chatting.”
“Doesn’t sound like chit-chatting. Sounds like you guys are getting really loud and crazy.”
Ali felt her fingertips squeeze a little tighter on her son’s shoulders. “Your grandpa and I are just disagreeing on some things. But everything’s alright. I swear.”
“Oh, okay. Mom? Can we stay the night? It’s already dark.”
Ali grew a surprised look on her face. “Stay the night?”
“Yeah, it’s already late.”
Owen nodded his head in agreement. “Honestly, it’s best for you here.”
“Really? How?” Ali’s voice had a mild tone of cynicism.
“You really think your house is the best place for you?”
It was obvious by her expression that she hated it when her father was right. “Fine. Okay, we’ll stay here tonight.”
Austin pumped his fist in excitement and ran back into the living room. Owen and Ali stared at each other for a moment before sitting back down. While the conversation initially started out with some tense subjects, they both slowly understood the need to protect Austin. The discussion eventually took a lighter tone with subjects like softball and pizza before the family retired for the night.
-
Owen dealt with a lot of pain in his stomach and even vomited once before falling asleep. For him, it was just a normal happening. Once in his alcohol-aided slumber, he dreamt. He was sitting at a bar, though he was the only one in there. All lights were off except one right above him. Two televisions were on in front of him, one showing a baby being born and the other displaying a picture full of static. His drink was what appeared to be a pale ale, or a pilsner glass full of bile. Either way, his dream self didn’t dare put the drink to his lips. The person tending to the bar was Patricia. Her eyes were directed on him as she cleaned a glass with a white cloth over and over again.
But he noticed something different tonight. Her body still maintained the image of her last moments on this planet, but her eyes seemed to have more of a lifelike spark, much different than the usual glazed over look she normally had. He could see what he could only establish as sorrow in her eyes. Why was tonight different? He almost wanted to touch her, but Owen couldn’t will his dream self to do so.
Owen’s attention quickly diverted to the televisions when the one showing the baby being born flooded with gray, black, and white static. The other TV cleared up, showing a couple being married in front of a beautifully crafted wooden pulpit. The screen zoomed in on the couple, revealing a younger Owen and Patricia speaking their vows. The dream Owen quickly shot his eyes to Patricia. A shocked look came ov
er his face when he noticed Patricia was watching the screen. This marked the first time in his dreams that Patricia ever looked away from him. He immediately rose from his bar stool in an attempt to touch her. He had to touch her. Owen extended his arm as far as he could…
But just like that, his dream ended.
It was a loud piercing sound, followed by glass breaking that woke Owen up in a panic. He swiftly rolled to the floor, grabbing his handgun that he placed under his bed before falling asleep. Another sound that he quickly deciphered as a gunshot sounded through his home. Two more followed, one hitting a window elsewhere in the house.
A pained scream like he never heard before made his skin crawl. Owen quickly darted from the floor to the bedroom Austin and Ali were sleeping in across his home. He stayed low, and he was glad he did when he felt the whizz of a bullet fly over his head. Not wanting to take any further chances, he got on all fours to stay away from the path of any more bullets. He noticed Ali and Austin lying down on the floor on the end of the bed, with Ali holding Austin in her arms. Blood could be seen on his daughter’s arm.
“Are you okay, Ali? Oh, god. What happened?”
Even though it was dark, the tears in her eyes could be seen thanks to the moonlight shining through the now broken window. “It’s not me, it’s him.”
“Is he okay?”
“I think,” stammered Ali, pausing her words from the sounds of gunshots. “It doesn’t look bad.”
A combination of fear, worry, regret, and anger washed over him like a flash flood. He didn’t expect this as bullets continued to pelt the side of the house and break through glass. The last thing he would ever want was to put Austin and Ali in significant danger. That’s exactly what he did.
All he could do was stay down and hope for the best. Owen was able to find Austin’s hand in the darkness as the gun shots continued to ring out. It gave him some hope when he squeezed back. He wasn’t crying, but there were occasional moans, though they sounded scared, not pained. The boy was tough. Even a bullet wasn’t enough to make him break down. Even if Owen was the one who was stupid enough to keep his family here when he was a high target for this kind of action, he still swore retribution. He placed a lot of the blame on himself for his actions, but he had the ability to change the way his family lived. It was up to him.
Comin' Home to You Page 19
