Page 28 of Bully's Second Chance
“You-stupid-ungrateful-little-bi—”
I hung up the phone as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t have to entertain him while he was drunk, and I certainly didn’t have to entertain his drunken abuse when he called me in the first place. I had been burned enough helping my brother, from almost getting thrown into jail because he had pills in his pocket when I got pulled over for speeding all the way down to him breaking and entering into my apartment before vomiting all over my stuff and passing out face-first in my living room.
I didn’t have to do it with my father, and I certainly didn’t have to do it with him.
But, that didn’t stop me from silently crying over the rest of my breakfast before I clocked in for work.
11
Jackson
It was no secret to anyone in the house that I had a video monitoring system set up in my father’s room. I did it for my own peace of mind so that whenever I was out of town, I could check up on him as often as possible. I could see how he was being treated by the staff, which led to a couple of firings over the past year. But, I couldn’t remember whether or not I wrote that particular fact down anywhere to inform Lily of the set-up.
But as I sat there, listening to her speak with my father, my heart yearned for her.
On the one hand, I felt guilty because it certainly wasn’t a conversation for my ears. But on the other hand, so much made sense. I had no idea her brother had gone down such a dark and twisted path. I had no idea she carried around so much hurt and pain with her everywhere she went. And what was worse was that I had no idea if any of this shit had been going on in her life when we were teenagers.
My blood boiled. As she sat there and softly cried at my father’s bedside, I had to stand up and pace around my penthouse suite. I had anger wafting its way through my veins that I hadn’t felt in quite some time.
What else had she gone through as a child?
Had they hit her?
Cursed at her?
Berated her in their drunken and drugged-up state?
“Fuck!” I roared.
I picked up a book from the coffee table in the living room and chucked it at the wall. If I had known any of this shit when we were growing up, I would have helped her. I would have stopped teasing her so damn much. I would’ve let her venture into the treehouse my father had built for myself and my guy friends.
“I was an asshole as a child,” I murmured.
Hell, I’m still an asshole most of the time.
I was angry at her parents for not being any better. I was angry at her brother for not being any stronger than he was. But mostly, I was angry with myself. I charged back into my bedroom and heard Lily still crying on my laptop monitor, so I slammed it shut to give her some damn privacy. It was the very least I could do for her after all I had put her through.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.
I massaged my temples as I walked myself into the bathroom. I drew myself a hot bath, trying to relax my body and my mind before this fucking meeting. But, even as I washed myself down and got ready, Lily was at the forefront of my thoughts.
Even as I slipped into my suit, I wondered how she was doing.
And even as I sat in the middle of that meeting, with translators bombarding me with things others around me were saying, I still thought of her and the pain I had witnessed.
A pain that I had only added to over the course of her lifetime.
“Mr. Levy.”
I whipped my head up. “Yes?”
“Are you listening?”
I nodded. “Of course. I’m just logging information and taking notes. Carry on.”
The translator rattled off what I had said, and not a moment later, everyone was trying to talk over everyone else. And I went back into the recesses of my mind. It almost felt illegal, knowing this information about her. I wasn’t even sure whether I should tell her I knew it or not.
It’s better if she knows.
