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But I won’t.
The need to have her under my watchful eye builds and makes me stand my ground.
Joey watches her with interest, and I smirk. John laughs and nudges his shoulder against Joey’s. “What?”
“Don’t stare, dude, it’s rude.”
He fucking blushes. He’s never going to live this down with us. I smile and wink at him, and he bows up. This makes me laugh harder as the doctor closes the door, and John bursts out in whole-body chuckles.
“Fuck you bastards.” He swings the door open to the basement and stomps back down the stairs.
“What do you want to bet he goes and finds her later?” I ask John and he nods.
“He’s a goner. And she better run hard.” We follow Joey downstairs to see him beating the hell out of our father.
“How could you be the fucking monster, dad?” I try to see this through Joey’s eyes. He idolized our father more than me or John. “I fucking did everything for you.”
Our father laughs and spits blood. “You can hit better than that, you pussy.”
Fuck, Joey hates being called that. Taking a moment to watch our little brother explode in fury, I know what’s about to come. Joey rears back and throws his entire weight into the next punch. Father’s nose crunches, and he howls in pain.
“How’s that for better, you bastard?” Joey doesn’t stop hitting him, though. Fist after fist hits our father, and with every hit, we hear more and more bones crunching.
John walks over to him and pulls him back, trying to calm him down. “Joey, that’s enough.”
“It will never be enough. He betrayed us.” Joey spits at our father and tries to get loose from John.
“We aren’t here for this,” I say calmly.
How did I manage that?
To say I’m calm at all is a joke.
Both look at me. “Answers. We need answers, goddamn it.”
They both nod, and the wind seeps out of Joey as John stands there with his arm around his shoulders. “Later, little brother,” John whispers. Joey takes a deep breath in as I step in front of the man that I can’t even stand to be in the same room as now.
My anger consumes me as memories of a loving father play in my head. Memories that don’t reconcile with the man on his knees, laughing at Joey. A hero, in my eyes, has died, leaving me uncertain if anything I was ever told is true. John looks at me, and I see the sadness. The betrayal sitting in his features. I’m not alone in how I feel.
How could this man be this way?
Ignoring my walk down memory lane, I look at our father. He’s sickening and disgusting to be around. “All we want to know is why you killed our mother.” Nothing else fucking matters.
“I didn’t. That bitch upstairs…”
I use the gun’s butt to hit him against his forehead. It leaves a nice imprint, and that giddy feeling I get when I’m causing violence fills me. “Stop fucking lying. I know Crucinda didn’t kill her. Try again, Father.”
“Your mother had a purpose, Jason.” He lifts his head and looks me in my eyes. “That purpose was to strengthen my empire and to give me sons. When she became a problem, I took her ass out. Quite simple, really.”
“Not fucking simple at all, dick.” I put the gun to his forehead, and he smirks at me. “Did you beat and rape her too, like you did Crucindia?”
“Ah, you found out the truth, and now you are acting like you are the one in control. Don’t forget that I hold the key to everything you own, you little shits.”
Of course, he would turn to this type of behavior.
Typical.
How could I have not seen this before?
