Page 82 of Promises in the Dark

But I wanted her. God help me, I wanted her.

Yeah, I hated that I had this thing for her, this sick attraction that refused to die. Hated that she was the one person who could make me feel like a useless piece of shit, unable to do a thing to help her.

Pissed off and done with this shit, I pushed past Pyro, heading for the exit with his heavy footsteps trailing behind me.

Maybe it was time to stop being a dumbass and figure this shit out with Red. Or maybe it was time to tell her to go fuck herself.

Or maybe I was doomed to crash and burn like I always fucking do.

Chapter 23

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the stench of booze, that cheap, rotgut whiskey he always drank, hit me before the bastard even stepped through the door. The heavy thud of his boots on the floor made my heart pound in my chest. I already knew what was coming.

My old man stumbled in, drunk as a skunk, reeking of booze and looking for a reason to fuck someone up. He was always like this after hitting the bar, ready to unleash hell on whoever happened to be standing there.

This time, it was because dinner wasn’t on the table. Mom had been working late, busting her ass to make ends meet, but that didn’t mean shit to him. He grabbed her by the hair, dragging her across the room as she screamed and pleaded.

I couldn’t just stand there like a goddamn coward. I was a dumb, reckless little shit, thinking I could do something to protect her. So, I jumped on his back, pounding my fists against his drunken, stinking frame.

He didn’t give a fuck about my hero act... He just saw another target. And that just pissed him off even more.

“Get off, you little shit!” my father roared, throwing me off like a rag doll.

Pain exploded through my head, my vision swimming as I tried to stay on my feet.

“Look who’s all grown up and brave now,” he sneered, turning his attention to me.

His eyes were bloodshot, glazed over with booze and madness. “You want a piece of this too, huh?”

He didn’t hold back, raining down blows on me with his meaty fists. I could taste blood in my mouth, feel the bruises blooming across my skin. But I didn’t care. All I could think about was Mom, cowering in the corner, sobbing her heart out.

“Please, Tony, stop it! Please!” she pleaded, but he didn’t give a flying fuck. He never did.

He was on a rampage, fueled by whatever the fuck demons possessed him that night.

Mom was screaming now, begging him to stop, but to him, I wasn’t even his kid anymore—I was just another target to take out his bullshit on. Another fucking obstacle.

“Leave her alone, Dad!” I shouted, barely able to stand.

But he was quicker, stronger and I was old enough to know when shit wasn’t right, but still young as fuck to do anything about it.

His fist connected with my jaw like a freight train, sending me sprawling across the filthy linoleum floor. The taste of blood flooded my mouth, metallic and hot, but I forced myself back to my feet, fists up, ready to tear this fucker apart.

I staggered back to my feet, fists clenched, ready to kill the bastard. But he was on me again, raining blows down on me like a hailstorm. I could barely see through the blood and tears, but I kept swinging, fueled by pure rage and desperation.

“Get out of here, sweetheart!” Mom was shouting, but I couldn’t leave her.

I wouldn’t leave her.

I scrambled up, blood dripping from my split lip, and launch myself at him. We grappled like wild animals, fists flying, curses spewing from both our mouths.

For a moment, I thought I might actually have the upper hand. But then he got a lucky shot in, his fist connecting with my gut so hard I couldn’t breathe.

It felt like hours, but it was probably only fucking minutes. In the end, he finally stopped. Not out of mercy, but out of exhaustion.

“Pathetic,” he spat, kicking me one more time hard in the ribs, sending me crashing into the coffee table.

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