Desertion
Page 75
“It’s your fucking fault. I told you to take that fucking toy from him.” He turned to face her, his rage still boiling over a tiny Matchbox car.
He bent at the waist, picked the car up, and walked to where she stood cowering.
“Next time do as I fucking say.” He pulled his arm back and smashed the car into the side of her face. She went down like a sack of potatoes, blood pouring from the gash on her cheek. It was the first time he had hit her. The first time he had hit me.
It wasn’t the last.
I never got my car back.
“Did you hear me? He wants to see you,” Jackson repeats, pulling me out of my thoughts. I don’t know why hearing the news that my father was on his deathbed took me back to that day, but it did.
“Yeah.” I shake my head clearing my thoughts.
“So, are you coming then?” he asks, still waiting.
“I thought he had months?” The knot in my stomach tightens when I think about the last few weeks and my reluctance to see him.
“Well, these things, they can move quickly, Jesse. I told you this.” I look up at Bell, and some of my brothers standing around. An understanding in her eyes almost has me coming apart but I hold it together. The proud man in me doesn’t want her to see me crack.
“Listen, I’ll call you back.” I click off the line and place my phone back in my pocket.
“Everything all right?” Bell whispers, coming around the pool table to stand in front of me. We were having a lazy day before my shift at Liquid tonight. A few rounds of pool with Bell and some of the guys. The last thing I was expecting was this phone call.
“My dad’s dying. Jackson wants me to go say my goodbye.” I shrug, still reeling from the news.
“Fuck, man. Sorry.” Beau shakes his head but I don’t reply, just keep my eyes on Bell.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jesse.” Her hands move to my face, but I don’t want her to touch me. I can’t handle her comfort right now.
“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” I shake her off and step away from her. Her body stiffens at my tone; the soft understanding on her face freezes in confusion. I don’t mean to be an asshole, especially in front of everyone; in fact, things between us have been good. Ever since the night I found Danger with his hands on her, a newfound protectiveness has taken over me. She is mine and no asshole is going to touch her.
“So are you going over now?” Her hands fidget in front of her and I watch how her body language hides her insecurity. Fuck, I’m an asshole.
“Don’t know why I should. The last time I saw him he was still a cockhead, not prepared to relive that anytime soon.” I focus my attention back to our game of pool. “Who’s up?” I look up to Beau and Sy but they just shrug, so I turn back to Bell.
“Just wait a second, maybe you should.” She holds my stare, encouraging me to engage. I’m not in the mood to get into it with her, but I know she’s going to push.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Bell. So don’t give me some bullshit spiel on hope and forgiveness. Life isn’t a straight line that you have to follow according to a set of rules.” I deliver it to her harshly, knowing it’s the only way to drop this fast. Expecting her to back down, I decide it’s our turn so I take my next shot.
“You’re right, but your father dying is a huge issue.” She shocks me, walking up into my space and calling me out. The room becomes silent, pissing me off. This shit doesn’t need to be aired, especially by Bell.
“And like I’ve told you before, I’m not going there with you. Or anyone for that matter.” I keep my eyes on Bell, but point my finger to Sy and Beau. “That door closed a long time ago, sweetheart.” I lower my chin waiting for her to agree but she doesn’t.
“Is that what you really believe, or is it what you tell yourself to make yourself feel better? ‘Cause what I see is a lost man, searching for something he’s not going to get unless he addresses it.”
I ignore the twist in my gut at her assessment of me and keep my stare cold. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Jesse,” Sy warns, but it’s Bell who keeps pushing.
“You’re right. I don’t know, because you don’t open up to me and I get it. That’s how you cope but, Jesse, I care about you and I can’t sit by and watch you make a mistake. Wouldn’t you want to give yourself peace? Give him peace?”
“THAT MAN DOESN’T DESERVE PEACE!” I kick one of the table legs. Pain radiates in my fucked up foot, but it’s not enough for me. I kick it again, finding pleasure in the pain. She steps back at my outburst, but doesn’t cave.
“He’s your father. Does that count for anything?” The quiver in her voice takes me back to the same tone my mother used to make excuses and brush away what he did.
“No, it doesn’t, Bell. Unlike you, I don’t carry my DNA around like a ball and chain, hoping to please my parents. I gave up feeling obligated and responsible a long time ago.” I drop the stick on the table and walk out, leaving her standing there with my brothers.
Yeah, like father like son.
I don’t give a fuck.
Thirty BELL
“Bell?” he whispers three hours and twenty-five minutes later. Unsure what he needs from me, I keep my body still and feign sleep. I listen to him toe off his boots and drop his cut on the chair; executing the same routine he does every night before bed.
He bent at the waist, picked the car up, and walked to where she stood cowering.
“Next time do as I fucking say.” He pulled his arm back and smashed the car into the side of her face. She went down like a sack of potatoes, blood pouring from the gash on her cheek. It was the first time he had hit her. The first time he had hit me.
It wasn’t the last.
I never got my car back.
“Did you hear me? He wants to see you,” Jackson repeats, pulling me out of my thoughts. I don’t know why hearing the news that my father was on his deathbed took me back to that day, but it did.
“Yeah.” I shake my head clearing my thoughts.
“So, are you coming then?” he asks, still waiting.
“I thought he had months?” The knot in my stomach tightens when I think about the last few weeks and my reluctance to see him.
“Well, these things, they can move quickly, Jesse. I told you this.” I look up at Bell, and some of my brothers standing around. An understanding in her eyes almost has me coming apart but I hold it together. The proud man in me doesn’t want her to see me crack.
“Listen, I’ll call you back.” I click off the line and place my phone back in my pocket.
“Everything all right?” Bell whispers, coming around the pool table to stand in front of me. We were having a lazy day before my shift at Liquid tonight. A few rounds of pool with Bell and some of the guys. The last thing I was expecting was this phone call.
“My dad’s dying. Jackson wants me to go say my goodbye.” I shrug, still reeling from the news.
“Fuck, man. Sorry.” Beau shakes his head but I don’t reply, just keep my eyes on Bell.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jesse.” Her hands move to my face, but I don’t want her to touch me. I can’t handle her comfort right now.
“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” I shake her off and step away from her. Her body stiffens at my tone; the soft understanding on her face freezes in confusion. I don’t mean to be an asshole, especially in front of everyone; in fact, things between us have been good. Ever since the night I found Danger with his hands on her, a newfound protectiveness has taken over me. She is mine and no asshole is going to touch her.
“So are you going over now?” Her hands fidget in front of her and I watch how her body language hides her insecurity. Fuck, I’m an asshole.
“Don’t know why I should. The last time I saw him he was still a cockhead, not prepared to relive that anytime soon.” I focus my attention back to our game of pool. “Who’s up?” I look up to Beau and Sy but they just shrug, so I turn back to Bell.
“Just wait a second, maybe you should.” She holds my stare, encouraging me to engage. I’m not in the mood to get into it with her, but I know she’s going to push.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Bell. So don’t give me some bullshit spiel on hope and forgiveness. Life isn’t a straight line that you have to follow according to a set of rules.” I deliver it to her harshly, knowing it’s the only way to drop this fast. Expecting her to back down, I decide it’s our turn so I take my next shot.
“You’re right, but your father dying is a huge issue.” She shocks me, walking up into my space and calling me out. The room becomes silent, pissing me off. This shit doesn’t need to be aired, especially by Bell.
“And like I’ve told you before, I’m not going there with you. Or anyone for that matter.” I keep my eyes on Bell, but point my finger to Sy and Beau. “That door closed a long time ago, sweetheart.” I lower my chin waiting for her to agree but she doesn’t.
“Is that what you really believe, or is it what you tell yourself to make yourself feel better? ‘Cause what I see is a lost man, searching for something he’s not going to get unless he addresses it.”
I ignore the twist in my gut at her assessment of me and keep my stare cold. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Jesse,” Sy warns, but it’s Bell who keeps pushing.
“You’re right. I don’t know, because you don’t open up to me and I get it. That’s how you cope but, Jesse, I care about you and I can’t sit by and watch you make a mistake. Wouldn’t you want to give yourself peace? Give him peace?”
“THAT MAN DOESN’T DESERVE PEACE!” I kick one of the table legs. Pain radiates in my fucked up foot, but it’s not enough for me. I kick it again, finding pleasure in the pain. She steps back at my outburst, but doesn’t cave.
“He’s your father. Does that count for anything?” The quiver in her voice takes me back to the same tone my mother used to make excuses and brush away what he did.
“No, it doesn’t, Bell. Unlike you, I don’t carry my DNA around like a ball and chain, hoping to please my parents. I gave up feeling obligated and responsible a long time ago.” I drop the stick on the table and walk out, leaving her standing there with my brothers.
Yeah, like father like son.
I don’t give a fuck.
Thirty BELL
“Bell?” he whispers three hours and twenty-five minutes later. Unsure what he needs from me, I keep my body still and feign sleep. I listen to him toe off his boots and drop his cut on the chair; executing the same routine he does every night before bed.
