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I was stunned more by his words than I had ever been by his fists. He put a hand on my mother’s shoulder. I had never seen him touch her out of affection, only out of anger and violence.
I don’t know why I didn’t just walk away. Kenny was dead. I didn’t love my parents and they didn’t love me. The only thing bonding us together was gone. It would have been so easy to just sever the tie and leave.
But I didn’t.
I wanted him to hit me.
I wanted him to beat me senseless like he had done so many times before.
His unwillingness to take his anger out on me was unacceptable.
I had gone from punching bag to nothing.
I wasn’t even worth the effort of his beatings anymore.
I was nothing more than a bad smell that he thought he could wave away.
No.
No, goddamit, he was not going to get the satisfaction of sending me away, not without something to remember me by.
I slowly took my hands out of my pockets and pushed him.
Hard.
I’ll never forget the look of shock in his eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing, boy— “
I hit him just once.
In the nose.
As hard as I could.
I could feel his nose breaking against my fist.
The cartilage splitting and the veins popping open.
The blood gushed from his nostrils.
It covered my hand before I could pull it back.
It washed over his face and shirt.
His knees buckled and he went down hard, cracking his head on the floor.
I stood there with my fist cocked and ready, but it was done.
He was not getting up.
There were hospital guards there now.
They grabbed my arms and pulled me back.
I was big and strong and out of control.
I elbowed one of the guards in the nose and knocked out the other with one punch.
