Page 28 of Before I Deserved You
“Aw, poor baby. Does the big bad sheriff have it out for you?”
“Oh, fuck off,” I tell her with a chuckle, shaking my head at her antics. She laughs and rounds me before jumping on my back, almost making me lose my balance. I grab her thighs and indulge her, giving her a piggyback ride down the road. We keep up the banter as we go, and I’m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt when the door to the local pub swings open and my father spills out onto the sidewalk.
My heart gives a single hard thump at the sight, and I freeze, setting Tessa back on her feet. Please don’t look my way. Please don’t … Motherfucker.His bloodshot eyes connect with mine, and he moves toward our little group. Mystomach churns as cold sweat beads on my forehead, and I pray to everything that’s holy that he won’t make another scene in public. I flash my friends a tight smile and prepare myself for the inevitable embarrassment that’s sure to follow. There’s no point in wishing things to be different. My old man has become the town drunk. The guy everyone and their Gramma love to gossip about, and, in turn, I’ve become the type of person people look at with nothing but pity in their eyes. They sympathize with me and my siblings and feel bad for my father. After all, he only started drinking because he lost the love of his life. He was once a well-respected businessman. A doting father and a good husband. Now, he’s an empty shell of a man. A pathetic mess whose only comfort sits at the bottom of a bottle.
People love to romanticize shit like that. They don’t know that he’s always been a cruel, condescending son of a bitch. They don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. Here’s the thing, though. I can take whatever he dishes out away from prying eyes. I’ve proven as much time and time again. The problem is that lately, he’s taken to airing our dirty laundry for the whole town to see, and that’s the part I’m struggling with. I’ve received more than one call over the past few weeks asking me to come collect my out-of-control father.
The last one came from Jackie only a couple of days ago. Apparently, he was stirring up trouble with some trucker who’d only wanted to enjoy a hot cup of coffee on his way to wherever it was he was headed. He was minding his own business and told my dad to take a hike numerous times, but my old man wouldn’t leave well enough alone. It had taken me and two other guys to wrestle him out the door and into my truck. In the middle of the afternoon, I might add. I mean, for God's sake. At least wait until dinner time. And if that weren’t mortifying enough, he ran his mouth the whole way to my vehicle, cursing me out and calling me every name under the sun.
Most days, I don’t even hear the nasty shit he spews anymore. I’ve learned to drown him out a long time ago. But when there’s an audience to witness your humiliation, it tends to sting a little more. My dad loses his footing, andhe stumbles, almost going down. I reach out instinctively, but he shakes me off like a pesky fly.
“Don’t touch me, boy,” he barks, heavily slurring his words. The smell of alcohol on his breath is so strong I almost get drunk on fumes. “I can walk under my own damn steam.” I hold my hands up and wait for him to right himself. Fuck me for trying to be helpful, right?
“What are you doing here, anyway? Didn’t I tell you to go to Austin to pick up materials?”
“That was two days ago, Dad. I took care of it. We’re just heading to Carla’s for hot chocolates. I won’t be home late.”
My father sways from side to side and stares at me with dead, unfocused eyes.
“You better be home at a reasonable hour. And I expect you at the job site straight after school Monday.”
“Where else would I be?”
“Are you giving me lip, boy?” he growls, drawing himself up to his full height. I close my eyes, silently berating myself for not keeping my stupid mouth shut before I shake my head no.
God, I want to die of shame. He makes me feel like such a coward sometimes. Here I am, caught in my own worst nightmare. My utter humiliation is once again witnessed not only by my friends but also by the girl I love. I want to draw my arm back and punch him straight in his bulbous fucking nose for acting this way. But I can’t. Dick or not, he’s still my father. The only parent I have left, and I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing when it’s best to simply take my licks and stay quiet. Now is one of those times.
Every once in a while, I like to antagonize him, just to prove to myself that I can. I know it’s dumb, and the urge to push back has caused me a lot of unnecessary pain over the years. The truth is, getting a rise out of him is the only way of knowing he still cares. Sometimes, his fists feel better than his indifference. And isn’t that the saddest fucking thing you ever heard?
“No, sir,” I mumble, feeling about two inches tall. “I’ll be there.” My father jerks his chin in a sharp nod, and I release an audible breath. For a long, awkward moment, we just stand there, sizing each other up as each of us waits for the other to make a move. When I can’t take the crippling tension anymore, I go to push past him. Of course, my father doesn’t let me get off that easy. He steps in front of me at the last second and wraps his hand around my upper arm, painfully digging his fingers into my flesh. I suppress a grunt and meet his blazing eyes. He’s itching for a fight.
“I’ll see you at home,” he rasps, a dark promise hanging heavily between us. My whole body vibrates by the time he roughly shoves me back and staggers off in the opposite direction. It takes a gargantuan effort to relax my muscles and start the simple task of breathing again. I startle when Tessa links her fingers with mine, and my heart gives a single, hard thump at the contact.
“Let’s go, Tiger,” she urges as she gently tugs on my clammy hand. Her determined look tells me she refuses to let him ruin what has otherwise been a perfect afternoon, and God, I love her for it. She’s not stupid. She knows this shit isn’t normal. But she also understands that making a big deal out of it would only add to my discomfort. Somehow, this amazing, beautiful girl always seems to know exactly what I need at any given moment, and because of that, there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that I’m going to marry her someday.
As she leads the way toward the café, glaring at anyone who so much as looks at me sideways, I promise myself I’ll never let her down. It’s a promise I can only hope to uphold.
Nineteen
Jake
By the time I get to the river, I’m beyond frustrated. To say I’ve had a brutal month would be putting it lightly. Due to my father’s growing inability to focus on anything other than his next drink, he’s made the mistake of taking on too many projects at once, which resulted in us struggling to meet deadlines.
The majority of our clients are upset—rightfully so—and our crew is growing more and more frustrated with the lack of organization and leadership. Two of our best guys quit earlier in the week, leaving us in the lurch and forcing the rest of us to pick up the slack. The strain of trying to keep up with my schoolwork, as well as my father’s never-ending demands, is slowly but surely taking its toll.
Today, I didn’t get off work until close to eight p.m., and by the time I’d finally gotten some much-needed food into me, I was so tired I’d dozed off on the couch. When I woke up to fourteen missed calls from people, all wondering where the hell I am, I was livid. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, and now, I’ve not only missed half the party already, but Tessa is due to be home soon if she doesn’t want to miss her curfew. I’m making my way toward the fire pit, hoping to steal at least a few moments with my girl, when Shane Cooperbumps into me. Irritated, I wipe at the spilled beer that now stains the front of my shirt and makes it cling to my chest.
“What the hell is your problem? Do you have a goddamn death wish?”
“Take it easy, man. It was an accident. Geez. Ever since your mom died, you’ve turned into a real prick.”
What the actual fuck? I’m not an idiot. I know he keeps mentioning my mom to get under my skin. What I can’t for the life of me figure out is why. What is his angle? Tessa sidles up to me then, linking her elbow with mine and silently begging me not to do something stupid. Reminding myself that I came down here to kick back and have some much-needed fun, I ignore his insult and push past him, pulling my girl along. “Never mention my mother again,” I growl in passing because I’m a dumbass who can’t seem to leave well enough alone.
“Or what?” Shane calls after me, an anticipatory smile playing around his lips. I can’t believe the nerve of this guy. This goes beyond a simple dislike, and at this point, I refuse to believe this is still about Gillian. I don’t know what his deal is, but he needs to get over it and soon.
“Just ignore him. I’ve been waiting for you all night. Let’s get a drink before I have to head out,” Tessa pleads, tugging on my arm to keep me moving. Logically, I know I should walk away. Nothing good will come from giving this asshole the time of day. But my feet refuse to move, and I can’t stop looking at his smug face. His eyes are daring me to do something and damn if I’m not in the mood to indulge him.
“You’re really fishing for my attention, aren’t you, Cooper? Are you upset that I’ve been ignoring you? ’Cause if that’s the case, I have to tell you, I don’t swing that way.”
