“You can’t keep me out of part of my own goddamn house. You don’t pay the bills, I do!” He’s right up in my face, so close he spits on me with each word.
“I am not required by law to pay rent in my own parent’s house!” I’m concentrating very hard on keeping my hands at my sides. If I lose any of the control I still have, I will kill him. I’m sure of it.
“That gives you no goddamn right to hide shit from me! I know you have it!”
“What? What do I fucking have, Dad?”
“Her letter!” He swings wide and I’m easily able to maneuver out of the way of his fist.
That’s what this is about? That’s what he’s been looking for?
“There is no letter, Dad. Don’t you get it? She didn’t leave us any goddamn explanation.”
He stares at me, taking in my words. Then he shakes his head. “You shut the fuck up.”
I almost feel sorry for him. “It’s fucked up, but that’s what she did. And we have to stop blaming each other and move on with—”
He uses his fists to shut me up. The first lands across the side of my head. The second hits me square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. It takes a second to catch my breath, and in that time he’s landed another punch to my jaw. The sour, metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. It makes me think of Brett and the homecoming game. And that makes me think of all the times I hid away at football, hiding from what was going on here. I should have been there for her. I should have stopped him from slowly killing her will to live. I feel an eerie calmness come over me. I deserve this.
He lands another punch to my stomach. I double over. I feel the crack of his knee meeting my face and black spots appear in front of my eyes. But it doesn’t hurt, it feels right. I deserve this. I steady myself, my hand to the wall, and wait for the next blow. The room fades in and out of focus. So does Dad. I reach out to grab hold of his shoulder for balance, but he’s farther away than I expect and I start falling forward, but I’m turned upright as his arm pins me to the wall by my throat. I struggle to breathe, clawing at his forearm.
The black spots appear again in front of my eyes, but this time they grow bigger and bigger, fighting to overtake me until finally he releases his hold and I fall forward again. I reach out to catch myself on the bed, thinking he’s done, but he lands another fist in my rib cage. And another. And another, then he rolls me over so I’m face-up on the bed. I feel the pressure of my face being hit and hit and hit but I no longer feel any pain. I can’t see at all, but each time his fist meets my flesh, I hear the loud, satisfying sound of penance.
He shouts, “Fight back, you fucking *!” It sounds like it’s echoing from somewhere down a long empty hallway.
He yells it again. And again. And each time it’s farther away. I hear screaming and something that sounds like orders being shouted, and there’s a high-pitched noise that slowly fades into complete silence.
THIRTY-THREE
The high-pitched noise has returned, but this time it’s in a steady, rhythmic beep beep beep. I struggle to open my eyes. The small sliver of light is like a blade and I groan and squeeze them shut again. This causes even more pain.
“Tyler? Tyler?” I hear Jordyn’s voice, but it’s like I’m underwater.
I reach my hand out to find her—a sharp pain in my left side stops me. Then her hand is in mine and I squeeze it. I try to open my eyes again. The left one doesn’t cooperate, but I manage to open the right. The light feels like the sun is singeing my brain.
Jordyn’s hand slips out of mine and I see her outline retreating through a doorway. She’s saying something, but I can’t hear what.
I close my eye again and the burning stops. Now I feel a slow, steady throbbing ache throughout my face. Especially in my left eye.
Jordyn’s hand takes mine again and I feel her lean over me, close enough to smell that she’s chewing mint gum. I breathe in the spicy scent mixed with the sweet jasmine of her hair.
“How are you feeling, Tyler?” a man’s voice says from my other side.
I try to say something, but no sound comes out. I clear my throat—it feels like someone has stabbed me in the side. “Pain” is all I manage.
“I hear that. I’ll just go ahead and up your pain meds,” the weirdly cheerful guy says.
I hear two low beeping sounds and in a second I’m awash in lightness. My head is spinning and I feel like my body’s twisting into positions that are physically impossible. I’m pretty sure my arms are on backward. But at least there’s no more pain.
Jordyn strokes my hand and I try to open my eyes again. I still only manage to open the right one. The side she’s on.
She looks like she hasn’t slept for days. Her eyes are so swollen, I wonder just how long she’s been up, how long I’ve been out.