Get off on the Pain
Page 47
I feel her hands on my back as she gives me a shove to get going. “You want me to fucking hate you? Well I can’t, but walking away like a fucking pussy brings you pretty close to getting it.” She shoves me again. “You want me to push you away? Well, you’re free to go, but I refuse to hate you and see the monster that you want me to see.”
I walk away, feeling my heart break as I do. I never expected to find her. I never expected to want anyone, especially the way I want her, but I have to do this. She deserves better, and I’d be even worse by not letting her have it.
I LEFT JACK A LONG message after leaving Lyric’s house about an hour ago. It’s five in the morning, so of course I knew his ass would be sleeping, but I still tried. He’s known my mother and father longer than anyone else has. I just needed to hear it from him what I heard from Lyric.
I pace in front of the gravestone that I promised myself I’d never go visit, feeling my blood boil from all the things I want to say to him. I’m so fucking angry with this man. It’s because of him that I missed so much of Alex’s life and wasn’t there when my mother needed me the most.
I’ve been blaming myself all this time. Six fucking years I have been blaming myself. I kept telling myself that if I hadn’t been in so much trouble prior to that night happening that I probably wouldn’t have gotten six years for defending my brother. I believed that was on me.
After thinking long and hard on Lyric’s words, I realized that it all began with Ethan—my father. If he hadn’t become a sorry ass drunk in the first place then I would’ve never developed the need to fight and let out all my anger. I was content with my guitar. It gave me a certain kind of peace that nothing else could. He ruined that for me. He made me into the monster that I couldn’t control.
“Fuck!”
I stop in front of his grave and finally force myself to look at it. I feel a mixture of pain and rage surge through me.
“You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to take care of your family. What happened to being a man and showing us that if you love someone you stick together and never give up on them? You didn’t do that! Instead, you took it out on us and treated us like shit. You made us scared and powerless.”
I grip my hair and growl out as the tears start rolling down my face. They’re tears of fucking hatred. I hate him for all the shit he made me and my family lose out on.
“I did my best to take care of Alex, to do what mother asked of me, but you had to go and make that impossible. Then, you expected me to sit back and not to fight, to not find ways to take my anger out.” I point at my chest and scream. “Well fuck you! I had anger inside just like you did. Did you think it was easy for me to watch my mother get sicker and weaker each and every fucking day?”
I lean my head back and try my best to catch my breath, but the rage has me unable to calm down.
“Hell no! It was just as hard for Alex and me as it was for you. Where the hell were you when we needed someone to comfort us and tell us that we wouldn’t be alone? Why didn’t you man up and show us that someone would still love us, even with her gone? You should have explained that we would still be a family. You were out there drinking the fucking nights away and then coming back home to push us around.”
I start pacing again. I can’t hold still.
“I did what I had to do to take care of my family when you couldn’t do the damn job. I didn’t just fight to get my anger out. No. I fought to help pay for expenses. I knew mom’s medical expenses weren’t cheap. You were too fucked up to notice, blowing money we didn’t have on booze, but when mom was in the hospital for weeks at a time you left us with no food. No fucking food. I supplied that shit for Alex. I made him dinner and made sure he got to school. I did my best, but it was never good enough for you.”
“It was good enough for your mother.”
I stop pacing and look up to see Jack. He walks over to stand in front of me and squeezes my shoulder. “Your mother was proud of you, Memphis; so damn proud of you. Don’t you ever think otherwise, boy.”
I swallow back the anger and look up into Jack’s eyes. I can always tell when he’s telling the truth. I need to see right now. “Even after I put my father in the fucking ground? After I left her when she needed me the most? Huh?”
He squeezes my shoulder tighter as I hold his gaze. “That woman was proud of you until the day she took her last breath.” Jack shoves me away. “This.” He points at my father’s grave. “Was a huge mistake, but it happened because it had to. Ethan was a mess. Everyone knew that. Everyone could see it, but they chose to turn the other way because he was the Sheriff. You were the only one that stood up to him when needed. It was his time to go, and so he did. His place was no longer here.”
Jack walks over to stand in front of my father’s grave. He looks down at it for a moment before speaking again. “You need to leave your anger here, Son. It’s time for you to let go and try to move on.”
I clench my jaw and shake my head. “What if I can’t?”
“You will after you read this.” I watch Jack’s hand as he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small envelope. “Your mother asked me to give you some time before I gave it to you.” He looks up. “Now’s the time. You need to read this, but when you’re ready and after you get some damn sleep.”
I grasp the envelope in my hand and a flood of tears fall down my face as I look down at it. It has a painting of a guitar on the back. Not just any guitar, but mine. She knew how much I loved that guitar. She had gotten it for me on my fifteenth birthday before she first got sick.
“You should come with me and get some rest. I think you need to get out of that house for the night and clear your head.”
I look up at Jack and nod as I carefully place the envelope in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt.
He’s right. I need some rest before I have to fight tonight. This is the big night. Asher has thirty grand on this fight. After this . . . Alex’s debt will be paid off. I’ll be free to leave and Lyric will be out of danger.
“Yeah,” I whisper, while staring down at the ground. “You’re right.”
Then I turn and walk away, hopping on my motorcycle. I really need to get my shit in check.
ABOUT AN HOUR AFTER MEMPHIS left my house this morning I heard him leave on his motorcycle. It’s now almost four p.m. and he still hasn’t returned. I’m trying my best not to worry, but I can’t help it. When I care about someone I worry. It’s natural.
I walk away, feeling my heart break as I do. I never expected to find her. I never expected to want anyone, especially the way I want her, but I have to do this. She deserves better, and I’d be even worse by not letting her have it.
I LEFT JACK A LONG message after leaving Lyric’s house about an hour ago. It’s five in the morning, so of course I knew his ass would be sleeping, but I still tried. He’s known my mother and father longer than anyone else has. I just needed to hear it from him what I heard from Lyric.
I pace in front of the gravestone that I promised myself I’d never go visit, feeling my blood boil from all the things I want to say to him. I’m so fucking angry with this man. It’s because of him that I missed so much of Alex’s life and wasn’t there when my mother needed me the most.
I’ve been blaming myself all this time. Six fucking years I have been blaming myself. I kept telling myself that if I hadn’t been in so much trouble prior to that night happening that I probably wouldn’t have gotten six years for defending my brother. I believed that was on me.
After thinking long and hard on Lyric’s words, I realized that it all began with Ethan—my father. If he hadn’t become a sorry ass drunk in the first place then I would’ve never developed the need to fight and let out all my anger. I was content with my guitar. It gave me a certain kind of peace that nothing else could. He ruined that for me. He made me into the monster that I couldn’t control.
“Fuck!”
I stop in front of his grave and finally force myself to look at it. I feel a mixture of pain and rage surge through me.
“You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to take care of your family. What happened to being a man and showing us that if you love someone you stick together and never give up on them? You didn’t do that! Instead, you took it out on us and treated us like shit. You made us scared and powerless.”
I grip my hair and growl out as the tears start rolling down my face. They’re tears of fucking hatred. I hate him for all the shit he made me and my family lose out on.
“I did my best to take care of Alex, to do what mother asked of me, but you had to go and make that impossible. Then, you expected me to sit back and not to fight, to not find ways to take my anger out.” I point at my chest and scream. “Well fuck you! I had anger inside just like you did. Did you think it was easy for me to watch my mother get sicker and weaker each and every fucking day?”
I lean my head back and try my best to catch my breath, but the rage has me unable to calm down.
“Hell no! It was just as hard for Alex and me as it was for you. Where the hell were you when we needed someone to comfort us and tell us that we wouldn’t be alone? Why didn’t you man up and show us that someone would still love us, even with her gone? You should have explained that we would still be a family. You were out there drinking the fucking nights away and then coming back home to push us around.”
I start pacing again. I can’t hold still.
“I did what I had to do to take care of my family when you couldn’t do the damn job. I didn’t just fight to get my anger out. No. I fought to help pay for expenses. I knew mom’s medical expenses weren’t cheap. You were too fucked up to notice, blowing money we didn’t have on booze, but when mom was in the hospital for weeks at a time you left us with no food. No fucking food. I supplied that shit for Alex. I made him dinner and made sure he got to school. I did my best, but it was never good enough for you.”
“It was good enough for your mother.”
I stop pacing and look up to see Jack. He walks over to stand in front of me and squeezes my shoulder. “Your mother was proud of you, Memphis; so damn proud of you. Don’t you ever think otherwise, boy.”
I swallow back the anger and look up into Jack’s eyes. I can always tell when he’s telling the truth. I need to see right now. “Even after I put my father in the fucking ground? After I left her when she needed me the most? Huh?”
He squeezes my shoulder tighter as I hold his gaze. “That woman was proud of you until the day she took her last breath.” Jack shoves me away. “This.” He points at my father’s grave. “Was a huge mistake, but it happened because it had to. Ethan was a mess. Everyone knew that. Everyone could see it, but they chose to turn the other way because he was the Sheriff. You were the only one that stood up to him when needed. It was his time to go, and so he did. His place was no longer here.”
Jack walks over to stand in front of my father’s grave. He looks down at it for a moment before speaking again. “You need to leave your anger here, Son. It’s time for you to let go and try to move on.”
I clench my jaw and shake my head. “What if I can’t?”
“You will after you read this.” I watch Jack’s hand as he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small envelope. “Your mother asked me to give you some time before I gave it to you.” He looks up. “Now’s the time. You need to read this, but when you’re ready and after you get some damn sleep.”
I grasp the envelope in my hand and a flood of tears fall down my face as I look down at it. It has a painting of a guitar on the back. Not just any guitar, but mine. She knew how much I loved that guitar. She had gotten it for me on my fifteenth birthday before she first got sick.
“You should come with me and get some rest. I think you need to get out of that house for the night and clear your head.”
I look up at Jack and nod as I carefully place the envelope in the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt.
He’s right. I need some rest before I have to fight tonight. This is the big night. Asher has thirty grand on this fight. After this . . . Alex’s debt will be paid off. I’ll be free to leave and Lyric will be out of danger.
“Yeah,” I whisper, while staring down at the ground. “You’re right.”
Then I turn and walk away, hopping on my motorcycle. I really need to get my shit in check.
ABOUT AN HOUR AFTER MEMPHIS left my house this morning I heard him leave on his motorcycle. It’s now almost four p.m. and he still hasn’t returned. I’m trying my best not to worry, but I can’t help it. When I care about someone I worry. It’s natural.
