I stopped for one last breather a couple of blocks away from my house. I watched it looming in the distance, sparkling underneath the harshness of the sun. Sweat dripped down my back as I sighed. I watched the off-colored white glisten against the deep red shutters of the house. During the entirety of my childhood, I remembered that house in three distinct ways. Three different sets of colors that all popped more than the houses around it. Maybe it was the fresh coats of paint put on it every year that kept the house lively. Maybe it was the fact that it was the biggest house on the block. Or, maybe, it was the fact that we had the only house with a wrap-around porch as well as a wrought iron front gate that was barely utilized.
Either way, it stood out.
I picked up the pace. I went from standing still to walking. To speed walking. To jogging. I burst into a sprint, pumping air through my lungs and feeling them expand into my back. I felt the last pangs from my ribcage fall free, releasing the last of the pressure in my gut. I smiled at the sensation. At how free my body felt. I rushed up the driveway and leapt onto the porch, relishing the sweat that dripped off my brow. Down my nose. Drenching my neck and the collar of my T-shirt.
I felt alive, for the first time in my life.
And I wanted things to stay that way.
“Stop it, Howard! This has gone far enough!”
“Who the fuck do you think you are, yelling at me like that? Shut the hell up and listen, like you were always so good at!”
“Oh, is that why you married me? Because I kept my mouth shut and looked pretty for you?”
“The hell else are you good for? I whisk you away on all these vacations and it’s not like you put out anymore!”
“You’re an absolute asshole, you know that?”
Immediately, the blood drained from my face. How I could have ever convinced myself that things were getting better I had no idea. I heard my father yelling at Cecilia. I mean, just roaring at the top of his lungs. The only shocker was that she was yelling back. For the first time—well—ever . I stood on the porch, wondering if I should continue my walk. Maybe I could walk far enough to get to that coffee shop. The one where Rae got me that insanely good coffee and all those pastries.
I turned my back to the front door, readying myself to walk away. Until I heard something crash.
“Howard! Stop!”
I burst through the door, charging my sweaty ass down the hallway. I followed the sounds of my father screaming at her. Cursing at her. Calling her every single name in the godforsaken book. I grimaced at some of the shit that came out of his face. What kind of man talked to a woman that way?
A coward, that’s who.
“Howard, you’re hurting me. Please.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe you know now how much it hurts me for you to be suck a money-sucking cocktease, Cecilia.”
“Howard!”
“Dad!” I yelled at him as I burst through the double doors into the kitchen. I saw him standing there, leaning over Cecilia with his hand tightly wrapped around her forearm. She leaned away from him, trying to wiggle away. And the fear in her eyes widened them as she whipped her head over to look at me.
“Clint.”
I nodded. “Cecilia.”
Dad glowered. “Get out.”
I shook my head. “Not on your life. Let her go.”
Dad slowly panned his gaze toward me, pinning me with a glare. He tightened his grip around Cecilia’s wrist, causing her to squeal. She tried yanking away from him again, but he pulled her closer, almost causing her to lose her balance. I took a step closer to him, slowly reaching for the wooden spoon on the kitchen island.
And as he watched my movements, he chuckled.
“Go to your room, son.”
Instead, however, I curled my hand tighter around that damn wooden spoon.
Because he sure as hell wasn’t ripping another good woman from my life.
37
Raelynn