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“And were you?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Give me your phone.” He holds out his hand.
“No. I pay my phone bill, not you.”
“You live under my roof! Give me your fucking phone, girl. I wanna see the messages you sent your mother.” He spins around and stalks over to Mom, grabs the back of her chair and gets in real close. “You’re a fucking liar! Telling me one thing and doing another. Hiding shit from me. You’re both hiding shit from me!” She cowers and puts her hands over her ears, folds in on herself.
I hate this so much. I hate that for years when our neighbors have called the cops, she always says everything is fine, that Dad just had a bad day at work. That it was her fault.
“Hey, fucker!” I snap my fingers and take a step toward him. “You wanna get pissed at someone, get pissed at me. I lied to both of you. I told Mom I was at the library, but I was playing hockey. It’s where I’ve been every single night this week. You wanna verify that shit, you can ask one of my coaches.”
“Tell her,” he shouts at Mom. “Tell her what you told me.”
Mom doesn’t look up, just stares at her hands folded in her lap. “Your coach came to the diner today.”
Well, shit. That’s a complication I didn’t anticipate.
My father’s eyes gleam with hatred. He pulls a rolled-up wad of paper from his back pocket, tears it in two, and slams the pieces on the table, upsetting the ashtray and rolling cigarette butts into Mom’s lap and then the floor. “You really think you’re smarter than both of us, huh? Going behind my back, applying to college.”
Dread turns my stomach. If he has my acceptance letter, he’s been in my bedroom. Hopefully that’s all he found.
“When’d you really tell your mother? How long has this been going on?” He grabs her arm and shakes her. “I know you’re covering for her. I fucking know it!”
I shove the chair aside, and it clatters to the floor as I stalk over to him, rage leaching out of me in poisonous rivers. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
He smiles, teeth stained yellow and gray. “She’s my wife. I can do whatever I want to her.” It’s a taunt as much as a promise.
Less than half an hour ago I was zipping around the lake with a hot guy who’s all about taking care of people, and now I’m dealing with this nightmare.
I grab his wrist and twist, forcing him to release my mom.
Her chair falls over, and she lands on the floor in a heap. “Winter, don’t,” she pleads.
But I’m done. So, so done. “You wanna flex your muscles, big man, do it with me. At least I’ll fight back.” I grab the front of his shirt and haul him toward the screen door leading to the deck. He’s apparently not expecting this, so he stumbles over the lip and falls on his ass. His hands hit the ancient deck boards, and I can guarantee his palms are full of splinters. Serves him right.
He crab-walks backwards until he hits the rickety railing. He tries to pull himself up, but it creaks and groans ominously, so he lets it go.
“Winter, you need to stop this. Winter, honey,” Mom calls from the doorway.
I hold a hand up. “Stay where you are, Mom.”
“Please, Winter.”
I hate the tremor in her voice. The fear that makes it unsteady.
I lean over my father, wishing I could be as ruthless as him. That I could choke the life out of him. That I could set my mother free. But she’s a caged bird, too scared to spread her wings and fly. “Remember what happened the last time you put your hands on my mother?”
His jaw cracks, and he glares at me with such deep loathing I almost flinch. Almost. “Shoulda taken her to the doctor when I found out she was pregnant with ya and got rid of the problem. Then you wouldn’t be here to ruin our lives.”
His words are blades, and my armor isn’t quite thick enough to keep them from cutting. But I’ll be damned if I ever let him see that he’s hurt me. “I think you do a pretty great job of ruining your life without my help, but feel free to keep blaming me.”
“You’re an ungrateful little bitch.”
“So you keep saying.” I give him a tight smile. “You should go for a drive. Maybe visit your friends at the trailer park and bitch about me there.”
“This is my fucking house.”
