“So do you want to explain?” I know there is more to what is going on that he isn’t telling me. And it's pissing me off. We don’t do secrets.
Mikey sighs and flops down on the couch. Throwing his arm over his eyes, like he is overwhelmed.
“You remember when we were sixteen, and the guy forced himself on mom?” Well, I guess we are taking an unpleasant trip down memory lane.
I walk into my house after a long ass practice. Mikey told me to head home without him; he had to talk to the coach.
I throw my bag on the ground and head upstairs to shower. I fucking stink, and if I think I stink, Mom is for sure going to bitch about it.
Mikey and I are working our asses off trying to get seen by scouts early for the NHL. I know he is set. He is the best high school Goalie in the fucking country. And I know I’m a damn good center. I have been fucking captain since my freshman year. And man, did that piss off the seniors.
I walk into mine and Mikey’s shared bathroom, flip the nozzle to Satan's ballsack hot, and start to strip my sweat suit. When I get in, the water soothes my skin, and I lean in, embracing the hot water on my aching muscles. Fucking James checked me into the board todayso damn hard I saw stars. I know my ribs and shoulder are going to have bruises from that hit.
I finish cleaning up and get out of the shower, getting dressed in my faded blue jeans and my Linkin Park band tee. Now, snack time. I don’t know how Mom keeps food in this house. I swear, Mikey and I are always hungry, and we eat a fuck ton.
Speaking of mom, I wonder where she is. Her car is in the driveway.
“MOM!” I yell through the house.
I get no answer, but I hear something coming from her room. That’s weird… She usually will reply, even if she is showering or doing something.
I walk up to her room and try to listen in. It’s cracked, but I am nervous to look in. What if she is getting it on? But honestly, she still cries over dad leaving, so I doubt it. Six years, and she is still in love with the bastard.
I peek through the crack, and I see my mom’s head lolling to the side, blood dripping down her face, and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
I push the door open more, as quietly as I can, and I see a man, his pants around his thighs, slamming into my mom, as she lies there, broken and unaware.
I SEE RED.
I slam open the door so hard the handle sticks into the wall, and I charge the guy. I pull him off my mom and throw him across the room. His head hits the dresser, and he looks up at me, confused.
I grab him by the hair and slam his head into the dresser again, and then slam my fist into his face. I keep hitting him, waiting for him to do anything to fight back, but he just sits there.
I see his eyes roll to theback of his head, just like my mom’s are, and I throw him on the ground. His pants are still down, and I kick him as hard as I can in the dick.
“You think you can force yourself on my mom? You think that because you have a dick, you can do what you want?” I am screaming at him.
I grab his hair again and slam it into the ground. “Well, let me make something very clear to you, ass wipe! This is my mom! And I will always protect my family.”
I continue to punch him repeatedly until I feel hands on my shoulders pulling me back.
I elbow whoever is behind me, and then crawl back to the man on the ground, who is no longer recognizable.
“Kai. Stop. He’s not moving.” I hear Mikey’s voice softly in the back of my head. Is he actually here, or is it a figment of my imagination?
The arms wrap around me again, but this time they are holding me so tight I can’t move.
“Kai, I got you. Come back to me.” I hear my brother. The only person in this world to bring me out of the red haze.
“Yeah, I remember,” I reply, shaking the memory out of my head. Fuck that guy, he deserved what he got.
“Well, that guy worked for De Luca.” My eyes gowide in recognition of the name.
“What do you mean, ‘he worked for De Luca’” I ask. This mother fucker better not say what I think he is going to say.
I clench my fists at my side and wait for him to get the courage to say the words that he needs to.
“Well, the guy went to the hospital and died. So De Luca had a hit out for you. I made a deal with him that if he spared you, I would owe him a debt.” Mikey isn’t looking at me; you can see the shaking in his hands as he speaks.
