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I hadn’t realized what I’d been seeing at first. My nine-year-old brain hadn’t been able to process that depth of depravity. There’d been bodies hanging everywhere…no, not the two-legged kind, but the 4-legged and winged variety. At least a dozen small animals and birds had been strung up from nails pounded into a rafter in one corner of the room. Not one of the victims had had a head. I’d stood there in a state of mute shock until I’d recognized our neighbor Mrs. Hurley’s cat among the bodies, the animal’s once snow white fur stained red with blood.
At that point, I’d thrown up then and there, not caring that my father would discover I’d disobeyed his order. I’d then promptly passed out.
I’d learned later when I’d heard my father telling my mother about the horrific scene that the maintenance man had found a notebook with my brother’s name in it in the boiler room. There’d been entry after entry in the journal describing each animal’s death. My father had smoothed things over with the maintenance man and poor Mrs. Hurley, and I hadn’t doubted a significant amount of money had exchanged hands, because my mother had railed at my father for keeping Ricky out of legal trouble by paying off the people involved. When Ricky had come home, he hadn’t been overly concerned about the discovery. He’d simply told my parents he’d wanted to see what kinds of sounds the animals made as they were dying and then asked what was for dinner.
My mother had begged my father to get Ricky some help, but my father had been adamant that it was something he could handle. That night, he’d threatened Ricky with everything he’d had, including putting him into a psychiatric hospital, but he never laid a hand on Ricky. Likely because he was too afraid of what Ricky would do to him if he did.
Not laying hands on Ricky might have kept my parents safe that night, but it hadn’t done me any favors. Because Ricky had not been happy about his torture chamber being taken away from him.
I’d begged my parents to let me sleep with them that night since I’d been terrified of Ricky after realizing what he was really capable of, but they’d assured me that everything was settled.
It hadn’t been.
I shook off the memory that was threatening to overtake me as I watched my bleary-eyed father drink his coffee. A small bottle of scotch was sitting next to his mug. I kept my mouth shut as I dug into my pocket for the money I’d withdrawn from my account. Betty electronically deposited my paycheck into my account every two weeks so it was easy enough just to use the ATM at work to grab some cash when I was leaving.
I didn’t speak to my father as I placed the money on the table.
“You’re late,” he muttered.
I knew he was talking about the money because he didn’t give a shit about whether I walked through the door on time. I could have gone missing for days, but he wouldn’t take notice until the rent came due.
“Sorry, there was some kind of problem with work depositing my check on time,” I lied. The truth was, Dina had insisted that I give her the last of the money I had in my account a couple days earlier, so there hadn’t been enough until this morning to cover rent.
“Next time you’ll start paying in advance.”
I bit back the urge to remind him that the only thing keeping his ass from being evicted was my larger share of the rent plus the work I did to help the owner maintain the property that helped cover the rent my father and I couldn’t come up with in cash. If my father hadn’t been so invested in staying in the apartment, I had no doubt he would have spent the money I gave him on booze. As it was, most of his own paycheck went to fund his incessant need for alcohol.
I desperately wished I could just get my own place, but like my father, I too was tied to this place.
“No problem,” I murmured. I knew he wouldn’t remember the conversation anyway, so I pretty much would have told him whatever he wanted to hear. I ignored my rumbling stomach and went to my room. I had less than three hours before I needed to be up again and I didn’t want to spend any of that time in the kitchen making breakfast while my father was still lingering around. I’d eat later when it was time for me to get up.
Because by then, my father would be gone and I’d get to face the best part of my day.
Chapter 6
Phoenix
Levi definitely wasn’t happy to see me when he opened the door to let me into the kitchen. But the fact that he also wasn’t surprised by my presence meant Father O had likely talked to him.
