Page 141 of If I Could

I’m about to grab him when he suddenly swings his leg out and slams it into the side of our father’s knee so hard that his knee buckles and he drops the gun.

“Shit!” He goes to grab the gun as Cain charges him, putting all his weight into it.

As my father falls to the ground, Cain tackling him, I quickly grab the gun.

“Get off me!” my father yells at Cain.

“Cain, get up,” I say.

Cain looks back and sees me holding the gun. He slowly stands up. “I did what you taught me.”

“I know, buddy. Now back away.”

Last year Cain was being bullied by a kid at school so I taught him a few self-defense moves, one of which was that kick to the side of the knee move. It worked on the bully but I’m surprised it worked on our dad, given that Cain is so much smaller than him.

“Go call for help,” I tell Cain as he steps back. “Call nine one one.” I hold the gun directly over my father. “Tell him Dad’s been shot.”

“You wouldn’t do it,” my father says, slowly standing up. His suit and shirt are wrinkled, a look I’ve never seen on him. He’s always so meticulous about his appearance, probably so nobody would ever guess he has this dark, seedy side. That’s his true self. The man in the tailored suit is just a role he plays, just like the role of grieving widower and doting father, roles he never played very convincingly. Even right after my mom died, he didn’t seem that sad. At her funeral, he didn’t shed a tear. Now I know why.

He killed my mom. And Cain’s mom. He took our mother away and made us think it was an accident.

“An eye for an eye,” I say, aiming the gun at him. “You killed our—” I stop because I don’t want Cain to know the truth about our mom. Knowing what really happened would be too much for him.

My father glances at Cain. “Your brother is playing you. He’s not the man you think he is.”

I keep my eyes on my father. “You can say whatever you want. He won’t believe you. He knows you’re a liar. Cain, call the police. Right now.”

“My phone’s upstairs.”

“Then go get it. Hurry up.”

“If you call them, he’s dead,” my father says.

Cain looks at him confused. “You can’t hurt him. He has the gun.”

“Don’t listen to him, Cain. Just go upstairs and call the police.”

“I have people who will kill him,” my father says. “You call the police, they’ll take me away but your brother won’t live to testify against me. I have people who will get to him first. He won’t live if you make that call.”

“He’s lying, Cain. Just go.”

I know that sick bastard is telling the truth. He’ll send people after me. He’ll try to get me killed. But if Cain knows that, he won’t call. He’ll try to protect me.

“Remember Jerry?” my father says to Cain. “And Paul?”

Cain nods repeatedly. The poor kid looks scared to death.

“They work for me. If I tell them to hurt your brother, they will. So if you call the police right now, you’ll be responsible for your brother’s death. You don’t want to do that, do you?”

Fuck. I can’t believe he’s doing this. Using my little brother to save himself. It’s not going to work. I’ll shoot the bastard if I have to. I didn’t want to, but he’s backed me into a corner.

“Get the phone and I’ll make the call,” I tell Cain.

He looks at our father. “I…I can’t. He’ll do something.”

My father grins. “Good boy.” He reaches for Cain and I shoot. I aimed for the ground just to startle him and get him away from Cain but instead I hit his foot.

“Fuck!” He stumbles back, then grabs hold of the back of a chair, trying to regain his balance. He lifts his foot and stares at it like he can’t believe what just happened. “What the fuck did you do?”