“I quit, sir. I told you that.” I stare at the floor and hope he doesn’t see my lie. The truth is, I can’t quit. His threats to send me away and to beat the urges out of me haven’t cured me. I’m helpless against the draw. But how did he find out? I was so careful.
He steps in front of me, and I can feel his eyes on my head. “A liar and a *.” He’s on the verge of losing his temper, and experience has proven, that’s never a good thing. “You’re just like your mother.”
My mom. She’s the only one who knows. My head struggles for clarity. Why would she rat me out?
Then, I notice her small figure just outside the doorway. She watches helplessly, her hands wrapped around her stomach and her shoulders shaking in silent sobs. Present, but completely powerless.
I try to lock eyes with her, but I can’t see her features well enough in the dark room. “Mom, why…?” My questions freeze on my lips. She won’t have anything to say. She never does when it comes to him.
I’ve always been the strong one, taking every blow in my dad’s verbal assaults with my chin held high, proving that I can handle it. It’s the best way I can protect her.
I suck in a deep breath and throw my shoulders back. If she thinks I’m okay, then she’ll stop crying. Convincing her that I want what he has planned for me will make this easier on her.
“There’s no looking to your mommy to save you. Not this time. How long has she been lying for you, Blake?” When I don’t answer, he shoves his steel-toed boot into my shoulder.
I rock back but refuse to fall. My usual plan is to diffuse his anger by apologizing and stroking his ego. But here, in the middle of the night, being held by a team of my dad’s men, with the knowledge that where I’m going I’ll be free of his daily taunts… I’m done eating his shit.
His intimidations may have worked on me before, but I’m not his puppet, jumping with every pulled string. Heat coils behind my sternum and stokes the smoldering embers kept hidden for years into a flame. I drop my gaze to the green shag carpet and breathe deeply, allowing my anger to fester.
“It was only a matter of time before you got caught. This sneaking around behind my back won’t be tolerated.” He crushes tracks in the rug with his combat boots just like he stomps through life, breaking spirits and leaving victims in his wake. First my mom, now me, and my brother will no doubt be next.
“My men here are gonna take you to a place where soldiers are made. Won’t have a choice but to man up around this crew. You hear me, boy?”
Rage pulses from my chest, through my veins, and coils my muscles.
“I asked you a question, faggot. Answer me.” His demand for my cooperation echoes off the walls.
I cringe at the sound of my mom’s whimpering. He won’t be ignored. One chance to cooperate is all I get. It’s all any of us have ever gotten. I’m pushing him too far.
For the first time, I don’t care. My breath hits hard, and my nose flares to keep up with my intake of oxygen.
“Answer me, you sorry son of a bitch!” He puts the sole of his boot to my chest and shoves. “Weak, just like your mother.”
My body lists, but I’m numb to his abuse. I tilt my chin up and lock eyes with him, glaring so hard my eyes burn. “She’s strong enough to put up with your shit.”
He smiles and laughs, but nothing about his expression says he thinks it’s funny. “Little momma’s boy. Still holding on to that woman’s apron strings. Pathetic.”
Those words, like lighter fluid to my resentment, kindle the flames into a raging inferno. My teeth grind, and fury shreds through me.
My dad waves me off with a flick of his wrist. “Get him out of my face.”
“Yes, sir,” his minions say in unison, taking orders from the colonel like the good little disciples that they are.
They’d probably slit their own throats if the order was given.
That will never be me.
I’m pulled to my feet by my biceps and walked to the door. My mom hurries out of the way to let us pass. She’s clutching her robe to her neck, her usual pretty face splotchy and wet with tears. Her light brown hair looks as if she’s been running her hands through it for hours. My chest clenches at the pain I see in her eyes.
I lean back. “Hold on.”
They ignore me and continue to move me through the house.
“I just want to say goodbye.” I dig my bare feet into the carpet.
“Duke?” Her soft-spoken calling of my dad’s name brings us to a stop.
The asshole rolls his eyes, but he waves off his men. “Stand down.”
She takes a few steps toward me but stops just shy of arm’s length. “Blake…” Her chin quivers, and tears shine in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Shame twists in my gut. “It’s okay, Mom.” I should have never involved her in my sneaking around. “Don’t cry. I’ll be all right.”
She moves close enough to cup my cheek. She no longer hugs me because my dad said it makes us weak. “Be strong, Blake.”
No I love you, but instead, be strong.
It’s harsh, but this is what we’ve come to. In order to thrive in this family, we need to conform. And strength trumps emotion.