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LANDON
With a busted lip, I stormed up the stairs to my house to wash my face off in the kitchen sink. I didn’t want to deal with Dad right now, but I needed to get this blood off me. Tonight had been fucking annoying as hell.
I’d left Imani with João, and he’d fucked her.
The one fucking guy who had wanted nothing to do with her a couple days ago brought her back to his house to put his dick inside of her. The mere thought made me angry. At least, I hadn’t wanted him to fucking lie about it. If he was going to do it, he should’ve fucking told me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have wanted to rip his head off.
Stepping into the house, I inhaled the thick scent of spilled beer and kicked the hundred and one empty beer bottles in the kitchen. I had stopped picking up after Dad once I figured out that he didn’t give a single shit. If I picked up one, two more would be on the ground the next day.
“Why don’t you stop fucking accusing me of cheating on you?!” Mom screamed at him in the living room. “I haven’t done anything. You know that! You have my damn phone tracked. You see everything I do!”
I turned on the water and let it heat up underneath my fingers, sighing through my nose.
“You want to know why I don’t trust you?” Dad shouted back, his words slurred. “Because you’ve done it before with your friends. You whore yourself around at work, flirt with all the customers. I bet you even fuck them in the bathroom because you’re so desperate.”
Running a towel underneath the water, I glanced over my shoulder to see Mom storming into the kitchen, her eye black and blue and bruises decorating her arms. I tensed up and turned the water off.
Fuck.
Dad was more than pissed off tonight.
“Has he been doing this to you all night?” I asked Mom, wiping some blood off her arm when I should’ve been cleaning myself up.
She yanked her arm out of mine and continued to grab her coat on the rack. “Don’t get in this, Landon.”
A couple moments later, Dad stumbled into the kitchen with bloodied knuckles and a sour grimace. “You’re not going fucking anywhere. You’re staying in with me tonight.” He lunged toward her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. “You’ve slutted yourself out every night this week.”
Mom pushed Dad back, making him let go of her hair. I tensed up, knowing that he was about to hit her again. He usually only slapped her around, not saying that was fine—I hated it so fucking much—but I never really witnessed him punching her.
Tonight was different for some reason. He was angrier than usual.
“I didn’t do anything!” she screamed.
“Then, why the fuck did you come home with a bruise on your neck?”
I glanced down at Mom’s neck to see a blotchy red hickey. My eyes widened slightly, breath catching in my throat at the sight. I stepped forward, pushing her hair to the side to see it better, my chest tightening by the moment.
“Mom,” I whispered.
She didn’t look me in the eye.
All this time, I had stood up for her against Dad, and she had really been with someone else; she had really cheated on him. In all honesty, Dad didn’t treat her right, but she didn’t have to lie to me about it, making me feel sorry for her.
“You see what a whore your mother is?” Dad said, grabbing her arm again. “I told you, son, women are only good for one fucking thing. You’ll never find a good one. They’re all like your mother.”
Mom spit at Dad, right in his face, and pushed herself away.
When he hurled his fist down at Mom, I pushed her out of the way and took the brunt of his punch right in the eye. I flinched back and grabbed my face, feeling the pain shooting through my body. Dad stumbled back, then came back at me. I jumped up, pushed Mom into the other room, and dodged his punch.
He stumbled forward and bumped into the kitchen counter, knocking his head off a cabinet and falling onto the kitchen floor, a bump already forming on his forehead.
“What did you do to him?!” Mom screamed, crouching down by his side and taking his head in her hands. She pushed some thinning hair off his forehead and checked for a pulse. “What is wrong with you, Landon?”
My brows furrowed. “What are you talking about? He was—”
Mom stood up and smacked me hard on the cheek. “Don’t you dare get in our business again. What happens between me and your father has nothing to do with you. Next time you do, I’m going to call the fucking police. You’d better thank fuck that he’s still alive.”
I stared at her in shock, not sure what to say or what to do. She had never hit me before.
She pointed to the door. “Now, go!”
“Mom—”
She smacked me again, even harder. “Don’t talk back to me. I said, go.”
