Violence Begets... (5 page)

“Don’t make a mess now,” he said with
a smile. “I don’t want to come home and find popcorn everywhere.”

“No, sir, we won’t,” Brett replied.

After he left, Brett commented on how
awesome my father was.

“He’s okay,” I mumbled.

Granted, I was throwing a party, but
I wasn’t stupid enough to throw a party at my own house. I knew damn well my father
would have the neighbors on strict lookout for any suspicious behavior. As soon
as he left, I picked up the house phone and forwarded it to my personal cell, just
in case he called while we were gone. Then, leaving the lights on and the TV going,
we quickly slipped out the side door and headed to Kari’s, which happened to be
kitty-corner to Rick’s house.

People started showing up around  eight
o’clock.. I had a reputation for good parties, but people also knew I was an ass,
and they certainly realized they better be respectful. There were never any fights
(unless I started them), spilled alcohol, or broken shit.

I handed out the party favors to those
who wanted them, and after taking my dose of E, I began to roll myself. None of
them had asked for coke, so I kept that for my own pleasure. I kept the lights dim
and candles lit, knowing this was the best atmosphere for a good roll. I had an
excellent music mix going and watched as people started losing themselves.

I didn’t allow myself to check out,
but I did relax. I settled in the corner on a window seat and sipped my beer, keeping
an eye out for any trouble. I watched the snow fall, blanketing everything in a
clean white puff, and also found myself keeping an eye on Rick. I didn’t trust him;
he was too much of an unknown. He was with Jessica, something I had expertly arranged.
Of course, as planned, they seemed to be hitting it off. I knew girls could distract
my boys, but I allowed it only if they remained loyal to me first. He was all over
her and I was okay with this, for now.

In addition to being a willing host
to my parties, Kari was also an amazing tool to keep up appearances. She was good
for me because she liked to play and didn’t want to be all committed and shit. We’d
hook up if things were right for both of us, but I could screw around with other
girls if I had to make a show of something. And I didn’t give a fuck what she did.
I was good to her in bed and that’s what she stuck around for. We both knew it.
I was damn proud of the world I’d crafted for myself.

“Hey, baby!” She came and wrapped her
arms around me, draping her scantily clad body all over mine. As long as I guided
her hands where I wanted them, I could tolerate her touching me. I had to admit,
because of the E she felt good.

“Where have you been?” I said, a little
annoyed.

“Around, but I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” I said, pushing
her hands away as they tried to travel under my shirt.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I
grumbled at her. It amazed me how some girls were so attracted to this asshole they
wanted me to be.

“Honey, it’s not bad, I promise. I’ll
give you a hint.” She purred at me as she pulled the bottom of her skirt up just
enough to show me some red lacy shit. This did nothing for me, but I knew I had
to pretend, and getting off was getting off when it came down to it.

“Careful, might have to take you to
the bedroom now. Better go mingle while I still have the sense to behave.” I gently
spun her around and smacked her on the ass as she pranced off to gossip with her
friends. God, I was so not in the mood for women. I wanted nothing more than to
be tangled up with some hot, hard body from Normandy. Fucking appearances.

Mike was all over the place like a big,
dumb, muscular animal, pouncing from one chick to another. Brett seemed totally
lost in the music, and Jeremy was completely zoned out on the couch. Rick was getting
it on with Jessica, and I was bored as fuck. The shit I did to keep them coming
back.

By the end of my glorious party, I was
fucking Kari in her bedroom. She screamed, I got off and left. It was an uneventful
ending to a pathetic party.

Rick

Several days after the party, I came
home to my dad pacing in the front room. It was well after dinnertime and it was
too quiet in the house.

“Where are Sylvia and Emma?” I asked,
straining to hear Emma’s laughter from her upstairs room.

“Christmas shopping. What is this?”
I looked at him for a split second before my gaze wandered to the worn guitar case
sitting in the middle of the room. I bit down on my lip, not trusting myself to
keep my mouth shut. “I found this in your closet.”

I wanted to ask what he was doing in
my room but simply stared at him. My instincts told me not to push him.

“We went through all this in California.
You’re not to play this. Get rid of it.”

There was no way I was going to get
rid of it but still didn’t trust my words.

“Did you hear me? I said get rid of
it,” he nodded towards the case as if he expected me to pick it up and throw it
out myself.

“No.” I took a deep breath.

“Excuse me?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not playing anymore, but I’m not
getting rid of it.”

“It’s a distraction. I won’t have you
out there wasting time and money on some childish dream to be a rock star. If you
won’t get rid of it, I will.” As he reached for it, I lunged and grabbed it.

“It reminds me of him,” I said without
thinking.

“Of who? Of him? Oh no, he had nothing
to do with this.”

“Yeah, he did. He believed in me. I
don’t care what you say. Jason loved me. He gave this to me, and it’s all I have
left of him.”

“I told you never to say his name to
me.”

I ignored him, wanting to hurt him like
I was hurting. “He always helped me hide it from you. I may not play now, but one
day I will, and I won’t let you take that from me.”

“What do you mean he helped you?”

“I mean he helped me get to guitar lessons,
and he hid my guitar in his room.”

“Liar! He did not. Stop talking about
him that way.”

“Jason loved me and supported me, and
he lied to you to protect me.”

“He’d never lie to me!” he screamed.

“It was all his idea to keep it hidden
from you. Yeah, your poster-child of a son came up with the idea to lie to you to
help me. He chose me over you.”

“The hell he did!” he yelled.

“He
loved me—”

 “You just don’t get it, do you?” he
screamed at me. “It should’ve been you!” He took several steps towards me, and panic
screamed at me to run, but he was too quick. The back of his fist slammed against
my face, and I stumbled, falling into the Christmas tree. Pain spiraled from the
point of contact, and my vision swirled as the tree crashed to the floor. I tried
to scramble away from him, but got tangled in the tree limbs and lights. I felt
the glass of an ornament slice into my hand as I crushed it into the carpet. My
stomach tightened in knots as he reached for me and yanked me to a standing position,
instantly ripping me from the prison of the tree.

Struggling to get away from him, I somehow
managed to fight my way out of his grasp and ran towards the stairs. I made it halfway
up before he caught up to me, and I felt the carpet burn my knees as we crashed
to the floor. I was able to kick free and half crawled, half ran the rest of the
way to my room. He was right behind me and pushed me just as I tried to shut the
door. His fists were flying at my face as I stumbled into my room. I saw blood fly
from my mouth and was fixated as it spotted my carpet, but I lost my focus when
his knuckles caught under my chin, cranking my neck backwards.

I landed hard on my back and rolled
over to my side, curling into a ball and covering my head as he slammed his dress
shoe into my stomach. I watched as the tiny white scuffmarks flew towards my face.
Then I felt his foot crack something in my body from behind and I wondered briefly
how I’d ended up facing the other direction. At one point, I caught a glimpse of
him and couldn’t understand why he had tears falling wildly from his eyes. I thought
I’d see anger or hate, but devastation just didn’t fit with the pain my body was
feeling at his hands.

He took several steps back when he saw
me looking at him, then turned and ran from my room. I heard him leave the house,
and I stared blankly at the door. The room spun around me. I could taste the blood
running from my nose and the bleeding from at least one cut in my mouth. I tried
to focus my eyes, but everything was so blurry from my tears that it made me sick
to try. I wondered when I’d started crying. Hearing something behind me, I braced
myself for another assault.

“Saint Ricky?” I heard a familiar voice.
“What happened?”

It was Kevin.
This is so not what
I need,
I thought.

“I came to tell you… I mean I forgot…I
came in your window to tell you… fuck,” he trailed off. I’d never heard him stammer
for words before.

“Go away,” I forced out in a breath,
realizing at once that I had broken ribs. I didn’t know how to explain things to
him. I flinched as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, not threatening
but still Kevin. I heard him leave my room quietly. He returned moments later. “Now
come here,” he said, kneeling down next to me. I wanted to crawl under my bed and
hide from him, from my dad. But his voice was almost hypnotic to me, and I found
myself obeying his calm commands. I attempted to sit up and cried out before I could
stop myself. Slowly, he took my arm and wrapped it around his neck. He waited for
a second to let me get used to the position and then said, “Now try.”

I took a deep breath and braced myself
for the pain as I used his body to lean against, gritted my teeth and slowly pulled
myself into a sitting position. I leaned back against my bed, refusing to look at
him. He reached up with a warm, damp towel and started to wipe blood from my face.
He put a bag of ice against the right side of my cheek. He wasn’t overly gentle
or tender, almost like a doctor just doing what needed to be done.

“Here, hold this here,” he commanded.
I reached up and pressed the cold bag against my face, my fingers instantly chilling
at its touch. He finished cleaning me up, then got a fresh shirt. “Put this one
on.” I looked down at my t-shirt and saw that it was splattered was blood. I stared
at it, blinking, confused by the different shades of red. He stood back and waited
patiently. “You need to change.” I looked up at him, and he nodded slightly. With
every breath and every move my ribs caught fire. My face felt like a balloon. I
watched as he straightened up my room, spraying the blood spots on the carpet with
a bottle of cleaner that had appeared out of nowhere. Finally, he sat next to me
on the floor.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

What was I supposed to say to him? My
dad hates me and freaked out on me because he wants me dead instead of my older
brother?

“Your dad did this.” It wasn’t a question.
“I saw him storm out of here.” I couldn’t find the words to admit to him what had
happened. “How long’s he been doing this to you?” he asked with a cutting edge.
When I didn’t answer he said more forcefully, “How long?”

“This is the first time,” I admitted
quietly. It had been a long time coming. I was surprised he’d held it together as
long as he had after Jason died.

“Really?” He looked at me skeptically.
He must have seen something in my face to make him believe me.

“He hit your sister or your mom?”

 “Stepmom, and no.”

He nodded, “Were they here?”

“No.” I shuddered at the thought of
Emma possibly witnessing the fight. There was no way I was going to let her find
out what had happened.

“What set him off?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Not now,” I said, shaking my head.

I expected him to push again, but he
didn’t ask any more questions. I got lost in the shock of what had happened. I ran
through it over and over, going over everything I’d done wrong. If I’d only kept
my mouth shut. I always had to learn things the hard way. I wondered what would
happen when they all came home.

I didn’t have to wait long until I heard
Sylvia pull in and Emma’s little feet running up the stairs. Kevin looked towards
my door, then the window.

“Lock it,” I whispered frantically,
motioning towards the door, knowing the pain would keep me from moving fast enough
to lock it myself. Seconds before Emma tried the door, Kevin flipped the lock into
place.

“Rick?” I heard her tiny voice from
the other side of the door.

“Not now, schmunchkin,” I said hoarsely.
“I have a big test in school tomorrow. Can we talk in the morning?”

“No, pleeeeeeeease!” I heard her beg
and my heart broke. I hated denying her anything.

Just then I heard Sylvia holler upstairs
for Emma to come back down and hang her coat up. I prayed she wouldn’t try to come
in again.

Eventually, Sylvia came to my door and
asked what had happened to the Christmas tree and if I knew where my dad was. I
told her I had no idea on either account, and she left to help get Emma ready for
bed.

After the house quieted down, Kevin
asked, “You okay to be alone tonight?”

I shot a startled look at him, having
forgotten he was sitting next to me. I then looked at the clock and realized he’d
been with me for over two hours without saying a word.

I thought about it, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Text me if he comes after you again.”
He walked to the window. “I’m serious. If you need something, let me know!” He was
harsh, but I knew I could text him if I had to.

“I will,” I said hesitantly.

“Wear a long-sleeved shirt tomorrow
to hide the bruises,” he said, again with the commands. “You can’t hide what’s on
your face. Tell people we got in a fight tonight with some guys. I’ll back the story
up.”

“But you don’t have any bruises,” I
said, feeling embarrassed. It would look like I got a total beat-down in a fight
and he didn’t.

“Don’t worry about it. Just do it. K?”

“Fine,” I said, still not liking the
idea but thinking it was better than telling people my dad beat me up.

“Night, Rick.” It was the first time
he had called me Rick and not Ricky or Saint Ricky.

“Thanks,” I answered uncomfortably.
He jumped out my window without a reply.

Later, I tensed as my dad came home.
When I heard him behind my locked door, I felt tears sting the cuts on my face.

“Rick?” he said, sounding drunk. I held
my breath. “Rick?” he said again quietly. “I’m sorry.”

The silver lining of being too terrified
to sleep was the fact that, without sleep I wouldn’t have any nightmares. On the
flip side, it made me sick to hear him in the other room sobbing and Sylvia trying
to comfort him. I was equally racked with guilt and hate as I tried to ignore the
increasing pain that was screaming for my attention. I got up as the sky began to
lighten, nearly an hour before my dad’s alarm was set to go off. However, I hadn't
planned on running into Sylvia in the hallway. She stopped abruptly, looking at
the bruises on my face.

“Does your dad know you got in a fight?”
she asked distantly. I considered the irony of her statement before slowly answering
her.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Did he ground you? I would’ve. You’ve
brought nothing but pain to that man. It’s a wonder he hasn’t sent you off to boarding
school just to be rid of you. Don’t you dare let Emma see you like that,” she said,
narrowing her eyes at me as she turned sideways to squeeze down the hallway, afraid
to touch me in any way.

Sylvia and I had never loved each other,
but we at least used to treat each other with some level of respect. However, after
the accident, all she saw in me was the person who had taken the favorite son from
the man she loved. I tried to shrug her off as I finished getting ready for the
day. I’d hoped the new start would work out for us, but apparently I’d been wrong.

It was freezing out, and it was way
too early to wait at the corner. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but as cars drove
by, I wondered how the world could go on like nothing had changed when everything
in my life was out of control. Zarahemla at least provided a little shelter from
the bitter weather and the sight of people living normal lives. I wasn’t there ten
minutes before Kevin walked in.

“Thought you’d be here,” he said, smiling,
a rare thing to see him do.

“What happened to you?” I asked, surprised.

“Told you, got in a fight.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Well, obviously. But…”

“I messed with the wrong chick. I knew
it was coming, and that’s why I knew the excuse would work.”

“Looks like it hurt.”

“Yeah, but you should’ve seen them,”
he smirked. “I got the better end of the deal, that’s for sure. So how are ya hangin’
in there this morning?” He was being way too nice.