Page 1 of Bad Kind of Love

PROLOGUE

Becca

11 years old

Staring out our old dilapidated window, I would wait every night to see if one day my mom would come back stumbling up the sidewalk and come barreling through the front door smelling of sour liquor and cigarettes.

But every night was a disappointment.

I never realized till now, how much I actually missed those smells.

Resting my arms across the window sill, I focus on the street lamp that flickers over the route my mom would take back home.

It’s been about three months now since she left us both. She came into my bedroom early one morning and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead before whispering “I love you.” Any displays of affection were unusual from her, so I immediately soaked it in, wrapping my small arms around her in a tight hug. Despite her being a crappy mom most of my life, I still wanted her love. She reluctantly let me go before disappearing out of my room and life altogether.

My dad took it the hardest. Most of the time he was in denial, always coming up with excuses of why she left but deep down he knew something was wrong. In the beginning he slowly became unhinged, drinking more, and neglecting the fact he had a daughter at home to take care of. But when days turned into weeks and eventually months, he came to terms with the fact she was never coming home.

He tried his best though. He maintained a job at the factory where he worked nights and managed to at least keep the fridge somewhat stocked with food.

On the unique days where he felt whole, he’d make us our favorite meal, Chicken Parmesan and sit at our old foldable table and have dinner with me. We’d say little words to each other, but it meant the world to me knowing he was trying his best to be a good dad.

Barging through the front door, my dad's frantic eyes find me. “Becca, I need you to run up to your room and lock the door until I say it’s okay to come out.”

Removing my arms from the window, I take in the bags under my dad's eyes. He looked horrible. “What’s going on?” I ask, watching him undress out of his large winter coat and hat. His once full head of golden hair was now balding at the top, and his skin was a pale shade of white compared to my tan. He appeared way older than his 35 years.

“Nothing a kid needs to worry about.” He answers expressionlessly. “All you need to worry about is school and other kid shit.” Coming up next to me, he lowers himself till he’s directly face to face with me. “I’m doing this for us. For our future. Now please, go up to your room and lock the door.”

Gulping, I knew he was serious by the tone in his voice. His greyish eyes looked me over once more before rising up in a standing position. Rushing past him, I climbed up the rickety staircase and into my bedroom, where I locked the door and fell onto my mattress. I never called it a bed, a bed consisted of a frame and headboard. All I had was a twin size mattress that lay in the corner of my room.

Reaching under my pillow, I pull out my old CD player and headphones and place it over my ears till the loud music of Coldplay drowns out everything around me. Music has always been my safe haven. When things got tough or I needed an escape, my headphones were my lifeline to forgetting what was really going on in my chaotic life. It was my calming mechanism, wherever I went, my music went with me.

Dozing off for what only felt like minutes, I was startled by the sound of a loud thump from downstairs. Removing my headphones, I gently place them back under my pillow before pushing myself off the mattress. Tip toeing over to the door, I can hear multiple voices shouting causing me to jump in fear. We rarely had guests over and the voices didn’t sound familiar at all. They sounded angry. Placing my shaky hand on the doorknob, I slowly unlock it and push it open a crack. Peering through the slit, I don’t see anyone but clearly hear the sounds of arguing and objects shattering onto the floor.

“Where is it O’Connor?” A defiant voice roared through the house.

Opening the door some more, I weaseled my way out till I was standing out into the open hallway. With my heart racing, I warily stagger towards the staircase where I can hear the trembling voice of my dad downstairs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied.

“Don’t play dumb. We know you have it somewhere around here.” Another voice joined.

What did my dad have that they wanted?

“I told you already, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He refused again.

Taking a small step down the stairs, I crouched down low enough to where I could see the scene playing out in front of me. My dad was on his knees with his hands behind his back and head down, looking completely defeated. Five men surrounded him, all were dressed in black and masks covered their faces. The dark haired man in front was kneeling down inches away from him, trying to capture his attention.

“You steal from me. Then I’ll steal from you.” The man lifts his eyes immediately connecting with mine. Terror flows through me as I scramble to my feet. My dad lifts his head and follows the masked strangers’ eyes.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” He seethes, trying to shake out of the handcuffs. The stranger grabs him roughly by the shoulders, halting his movements.

“I don’t plan on it.” He says coolly. Grabbing my dad’s chin, he forcefully lifts it up till he’s face to face with him. “Unless you don’t tell us where you hid our shit. Then, something will have to be done.”

A loud growl erupts from my dad's mouth, causing me to take a cautious step back.

“You.” He points a glove clad hand towards me. “Stay put.” Nodding his head towards the guy next to him, he follows his orders and stalks up the stairs toward me.

My feet seem to be glued to the floor in panic, as much as I wanted to run and hide, I knew better. Whoever these men were, they looked dangerous and insistent on getting whatever they wanted from my dad.

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