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We were very much the same, him and me, these two broken souls who had taken very different paths in our lives.
I used my history with abuse and neglect to help people, to heal and be kind and caring. It was the only way I felt worthy, the only way I could allow myself to keep that darkness out of my life. It might still be there, hiding, waiting, and festering to emerge, but I’d rather die than let my fucked-up childhood define who I was as a person.
“I don’t know who you truly are or what I’m going to do with you, but I’m not giving up,” I whispered and stood, grabbing the gun again and tucking it at the back of the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back like I was in a movie.
I might not be giving up on him, but I also wasn’t stupid enough to give him more of a lead than he needed.
A vicious dog could be made to see his errors, but not at first. First, he had to know not to bite the hand that fed him.
Chapter Eight
Cullen
“You worthless piece of shit.” He reared his arm back and brought his fist to the side of my head over and over again, my body half his size, easily battered and broken against his drunken rage. “This is for not following my fucking directions.”
I fell to the ground from the next hit, feeling warm liquid trail down my cheek. I glanced up and saw Dom’s little head peeking around the corner of the wall. I shook my head once, a silent roar for him to go, to hide with the twins until our father was finished and passed out in his recliner, a bottle of whiskey in his lap, a cigarette between his lips.
Dom’s dark head was gone, my silent demand not going on deaf ears.
“When will you ever fucking learn, boy?” He slapped me this time, his open palm coming in contact right against my cheek, stinging and burning.
But over the years of taking his abuse, his violence, absorbing it all so my brothers didn’t have to experience it had hardened me. And every day, I felt that stone inside me growing from the inside out. I knew soon I’d be unbreakable, nothing able to touch me, because I wouldn’t allow it to.
“You almost got caught, almost brought heat on this fucking family,” my father spit out. “And all for what? All for five hundred fucking dollars?”
He was enraged about me robbing a liquor store, nearly getting caught, nearly getting arrested. But I hadn’t. I didn’t say that, didn’t repeat that over and over until he understood, because it wouldn’t have made a difference.
The hit on the liquor store had been unsanctioned by him, therefore wrong on every single level. Even if I’d walked away with a hundred grand, it still wouldn’t have mattered. My old man hadn’t approved the job, so therefore I’d fucked up.
But fuck him. I was biding my time, saving up money so I could get my brothers and me away from him, away from all this bullshit. But deep down, I knew we’d never be free and clear. We’d never be able to break away from the life that had shaped us.
Or I could just kill him, just pluck him out of our lives. I may only be fifteen, but soon I’d be bigger, stronger than him. Soon, I’d be the one delivering the fucking beatings.
I felt the kick to my side and grunted, holding my ribs. He could beat on me as much as he wanted to, as long as he left my brothers alone. They wouldn’t be able to handle this, not because they were smaller, children, but because over the years I’d hardened myself to this.
I could take it.
I had to.
It was the pain that woke me, this throbbing ache that encompassed my whole head. Had he hit me again? I knitted my brows at that thought then realized I’d been dreaming of my father again. It didn’t happen often anymore, not since I was grown, not since his motherfucking ass was put in the ground.
I went to touch my head, remembering where I was, what had happened, but I couldn’t move my arms. They were bound, and I instantly thought I’d been arrested, that Kimber had called the cops and they’d finally taken me in.
“Calm down,” her soft voice commanded, and I found myself instantly stilling.
I opened my eyes then, the grittiness in them almost more painful than my head. The light was harsh, sharp, and I found myself hissing and closing them tightly.
“I’m sorry. Hold on,” she said softly again, and I heard the light patter of her feet on the floor as she rushed away. A moment later, the room became darker behind my closed lids and I opened my eyes again.
