His focus returned to his father’s eyes. There was rage building inside of them, like the faucet, and Tyler could feel its weight about to fall.
“Yes sir, I understand. I just –“
Jim pounded the Jim Beam bottle onto the counter.
“Shut your mouth! I don’t need your backtalk!”
“Jim! Calm down! Please!” Ashley pleaded with tears building in her eyes. She just wanted a nice, peaceful evening where the family could act as if they were still a family.
“Come on dad, come eat with us. I’ll warm up your pizza.” Nikki tried her best to act like she wasn’t afraid.
“I will sweetheart, I will,” Jim said leaning against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, his glass just below his chin, sipping in between sentences as if his whiskey was the fuel that kept his words flowing. “But, first, I want Tyler to understand me clearly. There will be no shame brought into this house by any of you.”
He pointed his glass loosely in each of their general directions.
Tyler was becoming fed up with his father’s pointing fingers. With his fists on the table, staring at the grease shining in small puddles in each Pepperoni, he felt his body begin to boil.
“Oh, I guess only you can do that?” He said nearly under his breath.
“What?! What did you just say to me, boy?!”
Jim finished his whiskey in a head back gulp and tossed his glass into the sink, shattering it onto the dirty plate.
Ashley stood up, tears now streaking her face, and immediately began cleaning up Jim’s mess.
“Please, Jim. Go eat. Ally ordered your favorite pizza. Just enjoy it.” Ashley’s attempt to calm the beast fell short of its mark.
“Fuck Ally,” Jim muttered, rolling up his sleeves.
Tyler stood up defiant with hate in his eyes and revenge on his breath. He was ready to protect his family.
“You already have, asshole!” he growled
In two long steps, Tyler lunged at his father, knocking him against the humming fridge, and to the ground. They wrestled for a few moments until Jim maneuvered his way on top.
“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Ashley cried.
She tried to pull Jim off of Tyler. But Jim forcefully shoved her back into the table, turning it and the pizza over onto the floor. Bawling, Ashley shifted to her knees as blood trickled from her nose.
Nikki cowered back against the wall covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. She tried counting slowly to ten, hoping that it would all disappear and be over with. But by the time she mumbled ten and opened her eyes, Jim and Tyler had ripped down all of her poems and Ally’s drawing from the fridge. There was blood smeared on them now. The pots and pans left hanging around the stove were swinging, others were rocking on the tile.
“Dad, please!” She begged as the two of them twisted about on the kitchen floor.
Jim rolled Tyler to his back and smacked him across the face. Tyler tried to wiggle free but couldn’t. Nikki knew that she had to try and distract her father. She knew that she had to help her brother.
“Dad! Dad! I love you! Please!” Nikki hurried over to them and hugged her father, kissing him several times on the cheek.
“Just take me! Take me!” She cried. “Take me upstairs with you. Please!”
She stroked the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, sliding her hand along his neck, trying to calm him down, trying to ease his anger, giving everything that she had to pull his attention from Tyler.
Tyler, on his back, extended his arms out, grabbing Jim’s throat, restraining his father from him. Nikki’s intervention started to have its effect. Jim’s teeth unlocked, his jaw eased, his eyes widened, letting in more light. He relaxed. In that instant, staring into Tyler’s bloody face, feeling his son’s hand wrapped around his own throat, Jim could see the chaos he was causing, he felt the ravage in his chest, and for just a moment, he questioned it all.
“Get off!” Tyler grunted, shoving him up further away from his face.
Jim’s eyes refocused, and he clenched Tyler’s shirt collar, twisting it within his tight grasp. He pulled himself inches from Tyler’s face.
“Don’t you ever try that again! You hear me, boy?!” Jim growled.
Tyler grunted and groaned. The pain of the tackle and wrestling on the floor was starting to sink in. He realized that he was bleeding from his elbow, and it started to weaken, bend, give in under Jim’s weight.
Jim pushed himself up with his left hand, cocking his right hand back behind his ear. There, he hovered, contemplating his next move. But Nikki reached out and grabbed his hand, held it softly, rubbed it for a moment and then tugged him towards the stairs, towards his bedroom.
Ashley was weeping on the floor, a pile of blood dripping beside her. She looked around at the broken dishes, pizza, and mess all over the floor. She gazed at the scene before her, her children showing more fortitude than her, more valor on this battlefield than she could muster. She felt little, helpless. She felt unimportant, broken. She felt as though the world didn’t need her anymore.
Jim shook Nikki’s hand from his, clenched his fist tight and brought it down hard onto Tyler’s left cheek. Tyler’s hand fell from Jim’s neck, and he moaned in defeat. His face instantly turned red and puffy. He rolled around on the floor holding it, wincing, cursing his father with silent words.
Jim stood up, made his way over to the spilled box of pizza, wiped his hand on Ashley’s back, grabbed a slice, and took a bite.
He took in the mess that he made with pride. Then, he glanced seductively at Nikki and nodded towards the stairs.
“Alright, let’s go.”
He lumbered toward the living room, pizza in one hand and her tiny hand in the other. She looked back at Tyler still on the floor as he pulled her, dragging her to his den.
“Don’t! Dad, don’t you do it!” Tyler huffed from the kitchen floor.
Nearly to the stairs, Jim paused, looking back with a sense of accomplishment spreading over his face and grinned.
“I can do whatever the hell I want, son… and there’s not a single damn thing you can do about it. I’m Jim Handler… I saved this town.”
Then, he disappeared up into the stairway darkness, tugging his prey behind him.
Nine.
The Resolution
2018, September – 2018, October
Ally had stayed over with Brian again. It was becoming a consistent escape on days when her father wouldn’t give her the attention that she wanted. She discovered that there was something very warm and familiar about falling asleep in Brian’s strong arms. She was comfortable there with him stroking her hair, reminding her of how beautiful she was. Brian always gave her more attention and love than she could understand. She needed that, especially on the days that her father broke her heart.
As the sun peered through the gap between the curtains, bringing light to her young, pale face and waking her, she opened her eyes to meet Brian’s rough face and smiled. He had been awake for the last few minutes watching her sleep, watching her steady breathing, in and out, up and down, so peaceful, so quiet, so much the opposite of how she had shown up to his house last night. She had him to thank for that.
Brian’s soft words and reassurance calmed her to the core. When she was with him, she didn’t even think about her father. Although, at times, Brian would pry when he knew something was wrong. Of course, she would tell him, or at least as much as she could before it all became too much. In those moments, he would hold her under his chin, stroke her hair, and let her know that he was there for her. That’s all she needed. Just someone to make her feel alive. Someon
e to give her their undivided attention. Someone to make her feel important.
Now they both adjusted on their sides, facing each other, smiling. His smile lit her up inside, and hers made his cheeks tingle. They were two young kids in love, fighting through the pain and confusion of their high school years. She was his wounded puppy, and he was her rigid splint. They were meant for each other. They were put there in each other’s lives for a reason. And, now, staring into his gentle, bright eyes, Ally knew what she wanted, what she needed… and climbing on top of him, she bent down to feel his lips and tongue on hers.
“I want you,” he whispered.
“I need you,” she whispered back.
He wrapped his arms around her, rolled her over onto her back, and wiggled between her legs. Then, brushing her hair away from her face, he leaned in to kiss her softly.
She pulled him tightly onto her mouth, wildly, aggressively, biting at his lip.
He pulled back, looking into her fierce eyes and smiled.
“Easy, Tiger. We have all morning.”
He ran his fingers along her temple, tracing the back side of her ear and flipped her dark hair away from her shoulder. He moved in closer to her neck. She could feel the heat and tingle of his breath beneath her jaw. Gently, softly, lovingly he pressed his lips against her shoulder, kissing her along her clavicle, up her neck, and tickling her with his tongue just below her earlobe.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed into her ear.
She grabbed his face and yanked it into hers, jabbing her tongue into his mouth.
He slid his hand up her breast to the side of her neck. Lovingly and gently, he brushed his thumb back and forth, brushing against her earlobe, sending electricity and goosebumps tingling up the back of her head.
This drove her wild.
She squeezed his hips and pulls him into her hard. The bed squeaked back and forth with their movement.
“Faster! Brain, faster!” She demanded out of breath, digging her nails into his bare back causing him to flinch.
“Easy, babe,” he laughed.
She gripped his hand firmly and guided it to her throat, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, she squeezed it tightly.
“Choke me. I want you to choke me,” she moaned.
Brian hesitated, unsure if this is something that he was into or not. Deciding against it, instead, he slowed his rhythm and dragged his fingers through her messy, midnight hair.
“I love you, Ally,” he said lost in her eyes.
With a deep breath, she yanked his hips into hers, hard and fast.
“Oh, God! Just like that!” she screamed pulling the pillow into her mouth and muffling her moans.
The bed knocked against the wall. Brian’s notebook slid from his desk to the floor. He tried to slow down, to suppress the squeaking and banging. But she didn’t care. She wanted the whole world to know that she was alive, that she could feel. She could feel the power of their movements, pulsing and thrusting, smacking and banging, she kept his pace fast and hard, rough and aggressive.
She jerked his hand up to her neck and squeezes.
“Choke me!”
He squeezed lightly, wanting to please her. But with her hand still on his, she clenched down forcing her air to be sucked in loudly.
“Like this,” she forced out.
He held her neck firm in is hand. He could feel her pulse pounding at his thumb, the muscles flexing in her neck, making him feel powerful, in charge, dominant… ashamed. He could see her face turning red as she gasped for air.
He tried to let up, to let go.
“Harder!”
He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to satisfy her. He squeezed harder. She latched onto his back with her claws, thrusting her hips wildly.
“Oh God! Harder!”
He found her rhythm, hard and fast, hard and fast.
“Harder! Harder, Daddy!”
And, just as quickly, it was over with. Done. Finished off with two loud moans… and one confused, shocked young man.
They laid beside each other trying to catch their breath. Brian, staring at the ceiling, Ally looking out the window. He scrunched his face, sweat at his brow, trying to understand her deep desires. She, with a satisfied smile, was clueless about what her own lips had uttered.
A moment of breath and sweat went by.
“Babe,” he said cautiously.
She rolled over and grabbed his hand.
“Yeah, babe? That was amazing.”
“Well… I think… I think we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what? About how much I love you?” She grinned.
He squeezed her hand, let it go, and caressed her warm and damp cheek.
“Ally… that’s not how you love someone. That’s not love… that’s… a sickness”
. . . . .
That Saturday morning, as Ally pulled into her driveway from Brian’s house, she had a lot on her mind. Brian’s words “it’s a sickness” crushed her, at first. She left upset, sad, angry, confused, and in tears.
Now sitting in the driveway, staring up at her big, white, country house, the black-shuttered windows on the second floor seemed like eyes staring down at her, through her. She felt judged. She felt betrayed. But most of all, she felt that he was right.
She sat there in her car listening to the morning birds chattering in the rising sun. Her thoughts consumed her, exhausted her. They made her chest tight and sore. She felt it deep down in the darkest halls of her existence that she had a sickness, that she was truly messed up. She knew that her abuse had created her condition. But for the first time in a very long time, she accepted that her father was a virus that was eating away at her health and her sanity.
With her head against the steering wheel, she started to sob. Buried in her thoughts, she just let go, crying loudly, violently, pounding her fists onto the dash, throwing her books against the windshield. She tore down the Polaroid of her on her father’s lap just a few years ago for her thirteenth birthday and ripped it into pieces. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted that memory gone. With a loud roar, she threw them out the window and watched as they scattered away on the breeze and out of her mind, like memories of her father’s cold hands between her legs and her head between his. She cried and raged until the birds flew away until there was nothing left to give her company or comfort, except for those sad, black, heartbroken, second-floor-window-eyes which had watched it all come and go, the good, the bad, and the dirty. She glared at them for answers.
“Why? Whyyy?! Why me? Why us? What did we ever do so wrong?” she asked the black, paint-chipped windows and shutters fluttering against the wind.
But they said nothing. They did nothing. Just portals to the bright world outside and witnesses to the darkness inside. She wondered who had it worse, her or those old, shameful, dirty windows.
She took a few lasting, deep breaths. Wallowing in the misery was useless. She sensed a need for action, a chance for restitution. But, for now, she cleaned herself up, pulled her messy, ebony hair back into a tight ponytail, and forged forward into the shadows of her home.
“What happened to you?” she asked after rounding the hallway at the top of the stairs and seeing Tyler all banged up.
“Nothin’.”
He was shirtless at his desk, wearing nothing but his football shorts that Coach handed out during two-a-days and watching Dude Perfect videos on Youtube. His head was gingerly draped in his hand while he slurped down a Mountain Dew and iced a big red bump on his cheek with a frozen bag of peas.
“Nothing? It doesn’t look lik
e “nothing.” You look like hell. But whatever. Did dad say when he’d be home? I really need to talk to him.”
Tyler grunted. “Forget dad. I’d be ok if he didn’t ever come home.”
“Ohhh, so that’s what happened.” Ally leaned against the door frame, her attention perked. “What did he do this time?”
“Nothin’. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Come ooon. I’ll hear about it from Nikki anyway.”
Nikki, hearing the whole conversation from her room, looked up from her journal and shouted to Ally.
“It was crazy! Tyler tackled dad like he stole something! Then they got into a huge wrestling match! Dad was pretty much John Cena, clearly.”
“Oh my God, seriously? Did you hurt him?”
Ally walked into his Ohio State football decorated room and sat on his Buckeyes bedspread, ready to hear the full story. Tyler paused Youtube and spun around to face her, still holding the bag of peas to his face.
“What kind of question is that?” Tyler mumbled through the bag of peas. “Does it look like I won?”
Nikki came rushing into Tyler’s room and sat on the bed beside Ally, who looked at her as if she didn’t belong there. Tyler shook his head at both of them.
“What is this, a party in my room?”
“Come on. Just tell me what happened.”
Tyler tossed the peas on the floor and took a swig from his Mountain Dew.
“There’s nothing to tell. After you left, dad was in a mood, got drunk, said some dumb shit, I stood up for you, aaand… this is what happened.”
“Wait. You stood up for me? What do you mean? Was dad talking about me?”
Nikki tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah, he didn’t like your pizza.”
Ally’s disgusted face made Tyler laugh.
“Why are you so mean to her? She’s your little sister. And last night, she pretty much saved my ass.”
At Daddy’s Hands Page 13
