Page 12 of His Temptation
“I think I’m gonna pass.” I buckled my seat belt and backed out of the parking spot.
“Don’t be such a damn killjoy,” Ryan whined.
“I just worked all day. I’m tired.” Not the complete truth. Ihadworked most of the day, but I hated drinking and didn’t like being around a bunch of guys all the time who were shitfaced.
“Look, I need to blow off some steam,” Ryan said, his tone more serious. “I got into it with my dad this morning, and I just wanna get fucked-up.”
“What happened?”
“Same shit,” he answered, scoffing. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Maybe you should give him a break,” I said, before I could stop myself. I’d wanted to say it to Ryan for a while. “You say your dad is such an asshole, but all I see is a guy who cares about you.”
“Cares about me?” Ryan’s voice grew louder. “Your dad doesn’t give a damn about you, and your mom is a druggie. You don’t know what a healthy relationship even looks like.”
My chest tightened.
“Shit.” Ryan exhaled into the phone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I disconnected the call and tossed my phone in the passenger’s seat. What hurt most was Ryan was right. My daddidn’tcare about me. He’d taken off on me and my mom when I was only nine, and I’d barely heard from him since.
Fuck Ryan for his lack of a filter.
Texts came through, one after another, and I ignored them all. When I got home, I went straight to my room and flung myself on the bed. Mom laughed from the living room, too pilled up to have noticed me walk through the door.
Tears burned behind my closed eyes, but I was too fucking angry to let them fall.
“Hey, I think that little bastard is home,” a deep voice said from the other side of my locked door. Then there was a hard knock. “Open up.”
I didn’t budge.
“Your mom needs money for groceries,” Steve said, banging his fist on the door again before trying the knob.
Groceries. Yeah, sure.She spent all her money on pills, cigarettes for the both of them, and alcohol. I knew exactly where my money would go if I gave her any.
Knowing the situation would only get worse if I continued to ignore the prick, I slid off the bed and opened the door. The scent of stale smoke and beer wafted from Steve and only got worse as he leaned closer to me. He was taller than me but was a scrawny motherfucker. Greasy hair, an out of control beard, and a balding head… the dude was a real catch.
Not.
“Move,” I said.
“Did ya not hear what I said, boy?” Steve put his arm on the doorframe, blocking me. “Money. Now.”
I knocked his arm aside and backed him up against the wall, so close to snapping. His eyes went wide as saucers. With one punch I could put him in his place. But I refused to stoop that low. I refused to turn into my dad.
So, I stepped away from him.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, playing tough now that I was backing off. He adjusted his shirt from where I’d grabbed him and smirked, showing off his yellow teeth. “Just a pussy boy.”
Names didn’t bother me. I’d heard every foul name in the book and then some. Without another word, I walked down the hall and went out the door. I didn’t know where I was going.
I just knew I had to get out of there.
***
Hours later, I sat on a bench overlooking the river.
The moon reflected off the water, and the wind ruffled the leaves on the trees around me. I had come to that park so many times in the past.
