Page 6 of Wasted Oil

"Are you fucking insane!” I yell not even taking into consideration all the people that are here. The night falls silent, everyone with surprised faces. Nothing but crickets literal crickets can be heard.

"Excuse me little girl?” My father turns around with a look I know all too well.

Ever since I was little I wanted to be a singer. I wanted to be a big country star like Reba, Faith Hill and Shania Twain. Má would tell me I had a real talent and if I just focused on my dream that one day I would get there.

Father on the other hand, once I told him that I wanted to be a singer and not take over the company, all hell broke loose. He was throwing things and cursing, and when I went to apologize to him in the middle of his rage, I got back handed to the mouth. I was only ten years old at the time. After he calmed down he told me I didn't know any better and that I would be ungrateful if I didn't choose the family company over some silly dream.

"How could you! You disregard everything I ever told you!” If we were in a movie you would definitely see the smoke coming from his ears as I yelled at him in front of all his friends and co-workers. I embarrassed the King and if anyone in our family was taunt it was to never do that.

"Muñeca, you have five seconds to shut your mouth and stop embarrassing me.” It wasn’t a recommendation from him, it was a threat. But I wasn’t ready to keep quiet, not this time.

"For years! I told you that I never wanted to run the company! In fact I would rather die than be a part of Alvarez Oil. To work for a man like you would be an embarrassment. These people only know half of you! They don’t know what happens behind closed doors!” I was no longer holding back.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see my mom ushering Xavier, Alex and her family and the rest of the people out the back gate. She knew where this was going to go and it was better in her mind if the public eye didn't see Andres Alvarez hit his own daughter. She knew, whether it be physical, mental or verbal abuse. If we were there when he was angry, we were his punching bags.

When I look back at my father he has the look in his eye where I know that whatever is about to happen, I brought this on myself. Now that I humiliated him in front of his peers, it was about to be ten times worse than anything I ever had to deal with, and in my mind I already was prepared for whatever punch or slap was about to be delivered.

I began to call his bluff and came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to hit me, but boy was I wrong. That man has a mean poker face. I start to walk away into the house when his hand shoots out and snatches me by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going?” I whipped my head around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.

"Now you listen and listen closely, I don’t care about your fucking dreams about becoming a singer, you are eighteen, you need to be an adult. Realize that shit will never happen, you're nothing but an ungrateful little bitch. You are an Alvarez and you will take over this company. This will be the last time I talk about it. If I hear you talk about it or so much start to sing, I’ll make you wish you were never born. Do you understand me?”

With each word he spewed at me the tighter his grip around my arm got. He snarled his final words, the evil oozing out of him. The electric blue eyes of his turning gray, the storm has hit and now I pray that I make it through it.I yank my arm out his hold, knowing fully that there will be a bruise.

"I’d rather die ten times over than be a fucking Alvarez.” I match his tone with my own looking at him dead in the eye. My own blue eyes became the color that matched his. What I expected is what happened next.

From one moment to the next, I saw his big hand reach all the way back and the landing blow to my left cheek jerking my head towards the side where my mom was standing silent with hurt straining in her eyes. All the party guests had already left while my Father and I had a silent standoff.

I brought my hand to my cheek and felt something wet but I wasn't crying. I had learned long ago not to cry anymore in front of him, it had only egged him on. Looking down at my hand, I see blood. I look at my father with narrowed eyes and see that he hit me with the hand that he wears his wedding band on. I bring my hand back up to my face once more, blood still dripping from it. This one was deep enough to have a scar but not for stitches. All I could think about right now is the fact that he made me bleed again. Too many times I can count on one hand that he's made me bleed.

Countless times Alex begged me to file a report and throw his ass in jail, but my father has power. A scary amount of power in this town. He would twist whatever story he could, making me out to be this rebellious teenager crying out for attention.

"Fuck you old man. I hope you rot in hell.” I turn on my heels and start towards the door, only making it about two steps before I speak again.

"I will never, ever be a part of Alvarez Oil.” I say with a low voice, it sounds so dark coming from me that it scares me but I shake off that feeling.

He smirks at my statement and leans in close, as my mother speaks up now.

"Please Andres. She's our child. Please.” She begs with a sob.

"You stay out of this. This is between me and our ungrateful child.”

My mother cowards away like she always does when he is beating on me. He turns his attention back on me.

"If you don’t want to be a part of Alvarez Oil, then get the hell out of my house.”

With his last words I walk into the house, grabbing nothing but my keys and saying nothing to anyone. I hear arguing outside and then a grunt followed by a screech. She tried to defend me today so that automatically earned her a slap.

I turn the corner to head out the door when I’m stopped in my tracks to see Xavier and my best friend standing there in the foyer with suitcases on either side of them. They must've gone through the front door after ushering the party guests through the back. They both look at each other then to me and see the cut.

Xaviers eyes say a thousand words but no actual words come out. No instead he moves closer stopping when he’s right in front of me. Lifting his hand to my face, using his thumb he swipes the crimson streak on my cheek then places a kiss to my forehead.

I close my eyes and I brace my hands on his arms which leads him to give me a hug that knocks the air out of me, verbally speaking.

"I’ll take care of her Mel.” With just those words he pulled back giving me a stern look like he was almost saying. . . goodbye?

I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve actually said I’m leaving this place but never follow through with it. Looking at my brother, something tells me he can see this is it.

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