Page 81 of Seal of Approval

Ethan

I walked along the beach. My ribs still ached but that was it. My other bruises and swelling had disappeared. What hadn’t disappeared were Max’s last words.

Jasmine wasn’t like my mother. She’d shown me that over and over again. The way she treated her children was nothing like I’d experienced. She’d protect them with her last dying breath. Whereas it had been my job as a child to protect myself and my brother. And the one day I did more than just play my father’s games was the one day I realised I could be just like him.

It was just my father, Steve and me sitting at the table. My mother was sick in bed. She hardly got up these days. Her chance of treatment was gone the day he stole the money that had been donated to her. Steve had cooked us dinner, but he’d made a mistake with the recipe.

“What the fuck is this shit?” my father yelled as he threw his plate. It hit Steve’s jaw and fell to the floor breaking into pieces. “You can’t even cook a simple fucking meal.”

He stood up and stormed toward Steve. Fear took hold of my heart. His tempers had become worse and worse over the past few months. I never knew what he was capable of anymore.

I shoved my chair back. It crashed onto the floor. Steve was holding his jaw. Blood was seeping through his fingers. I couldn’t get around the table fast enough.

“Don’t touch him,” I screamed.

My father paused for a moment. I’d never spoken out like that before. That pause was all I needed. It gave me time to take the last few steps to get between him and Steve. I stood eye to eye with my father. Size was the only thing on my side.

He punched me hard to the side of the head. I wobbled. I watched, stunned, as my father pulled Steve out of his chair. Steve’s eyes were round and full of tears. He was smaller than me. If my father punched him with the same ferocity as he had me, he could really do some damage.

I shook my head to clear it and pushed Steve away. Then I hit my father in the head, over and over again. I couldn’t stop. White hot rage filled my veins and powered my fists. I yelled at him as I hit him. I don’t even know what words I said. But they were pure hate. Sixteen years of pure hate escaped.

Blood spurted from my father’s nose and his eyes were swelling shut in front of me.

“Ethan, stop,” my mother said. Her soft voice stopped me mid-punch. “If you’d cooked instead of Steve, then your father wouldn’t be angry.”

As soon as the words left her lips, she collapsed. Steve went to her and tried to rouse her. But she was gone.

My father’s laugh was mirthless. “You idiots have killed your mother.”

Steve bowed his head as I stood in the middle of the room, my fists covered in my father’s blood.

Steve. I went to the office, logged into my computer and called him. His face came on the screen almost immediately. I shifted in my seat and winced.

He studied me. “Man, you look like shit. Did one of those sea lions attack you?”

I shook my head. “Jasmine’s ex came back.”

“Shit.” He moved closer to his screen like somehow that got him closer to me. A mere inch when we were thousands of miles apart was minuscule. “Are you OK? What about the others?”

“I’ll live. Cracked ribs are the worst of it.”

“And the others?”

“All OK. The kids got out to safety before he got into the house.”

“And Jasmine?” he persisted.

I sighed. “She’s OK. Thankful. Relieved. He won’t be getting out of jail anytime soon.”

The assault meant his parole had been revoked and he’d gone straight back to prison. Add these new charges and he’d be there for years.

“I wish Dad had gone to jail,” he said. “We might have lived in peace.”

I’d thought that once too. “Probably not. Mom would have brought another man into our lives, and it would have been the same.”

He nodded. “Gran and Gramps said that too.”

If only we had gone to live with them earlier.

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