“Have you ever lost faith?”
Ashley and I often attended church together. Just the two of us, or sometimes her mom came too. Neither of us was super religious, but church was the one thing Ashley and her mom would do where her stepfather didn’t tag along or try to stop them from doing it. It was their safe place.
I liked going to church with Ashley. It felt like something bigger than me, bigger than the screwed-up world I lived in, was present when I sat in the wooden pew with Ashley by my side.
“All the time,” Ashley whispered from the pillow next to mine. “Every time my stepdad got violent. But I always tried to put my trust in a higher power. I had to or else…honestly, I couldn’t have gone on.”
“I feel lost now that my dad is…” I couldn’t say the word.
Dead was too final. Too real.
Ashley wrapped her arms around me. She was under the covers, and I was on top of them, but the gesture was so intimate that I fought back tears for the first time since I saw my dad covered in blood at the convenience store.
“Shh.” She kissed my cheek. “I’m here.”
I took a deep shuddering breath.
And then I told her the whole story.
How my dad couldn’t go to our hockey game tonight because he had to work. He always took whatever extra shifts he could get as a desk clerk at the local convenience store. He did it for my brothers and me— so there would be enough money to pay for ice skates and hockey equipment and to have an old, beat-up truck so we could drive to leagues two hours away from home because there was no ice rink in New Orleans.
And then I told her how, on our drive home from the game, we decided to stop in at the convenience store like we often did to say hi to Dad.
We knew something was wrong as soon as we pulled into the parking lot.
The ambulance.
The flashing lights of cop cars.
A deadly silence hit our truck for a split second before Liam jammed the brake, and we all jumped out.
And then a guy dressed all in black pushed past us. I looked right at him. His eyes were dead inside. I knew he was bad news. He disappeared behind the store.
I wanted to chase after him. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and I turned to go after him.
But Max grabbed my arm. “Dad. We have to check on him.”
Liam insisted on going in first, and we all crashed in after him.
A cop was right there in our faces trying to stop us from going further. Once he learned our father worked here, he let us through.
“There’s been a shooting,” he said in a low tone.
I flinched.
It was a moment I wish I could forget—the moment before.
Before life changes forever. In the worst way imaginable.
If I could rewind that night to before I saw blood on the floor…that would be my one wish in life.
“No!” I screamed as I looked around wildly. Maroon. Red. The colors were melding together, and the multiple puddles led to the cashing counter.
I dashed around it, and there Dad lay on the ground. He must have come out from behind the counter to try to get the killer to leave, and then he went back to the cash register to try to save the money. It’s just like Dad…he’d do anything to protect his own.
“Fuck, no. Dad.” I kneeled down and reached for his limp hand.
He was alive but unconscious. He moaned lightly, and I hung on to him, not wanting to let him go.
