She might not need me, or even want me really, but I can’t say that the feeling is mutual. She’s always been my solace, even long before I allowed her to see just a tiny hint of how important she is to me.
“It’s there if you need it. Alex said you were all away in some tipis or something. Did you have fun?” she asks, steering the conversation to something a little lighter. But that doesn’t mean I expect her to drop the topic of my upcoming exams altogether.
She might understand me better than Dad does, and she might even have been on my side when I told them both I didn’t want to formally further my education, but that doesn’t mean her opinion holds any weight.
Just like mine.
I spend almost an hour with Mum, talking about anything I can come up with that doesn’t involve school, work or Calli. But she makes it easy. She always does. She’s just got this calming way about her that always soothes something inside of me.
When she and Dad split, I desperately wanted to follow her here. But I knew that if I did, I would be saying goodbye to the future I’d always wanted, the man I wanted to prove I could be, so I was forced to watch her pack up her things and leave.
It was one of the hardest fucking things I’ve ever done. My only saving grace, I guess, was that my grandfather was already six feet under. If he were still around, then I doubt I would have been able to stick it. Being Dad’s chew toy was one thing. But my grandfather’s? No fucking thank you. The day his heart gave up was one of my best days. Almost all of my childhood nightmares were because of him. Because he didn’t think I could ever possibly be good enough, being the ‘runt’ of the litter.
By the time I finally pull toward the underground garage of our building, I’m feeling a little more stable. Although, that all changes when my eyes lock on a figure loitering in the shadows.
My eyes narrow, my speed reducing as I try to make out who it is, and if they’re a threat.
With my heart beating wildly in my chest, I blindly reach into my glove box for my gun.
Spinning the wheel, I pull into the closest space, my eyes locked on the hiding person as my adrenaline pumps.
Killing the engine, I push the door open and climb out, more than ready to teach this motherfucker a lesson.
My teeth grind as I close in on him, the grip on my gun tightening. But my reaction is nothing compared to the explosion of fury that rocks through me when he finally steps into the light and I get a look at who it is.
Lifting my gun, I press it against his forehead and force him back into the shadows of the alcove.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarl, glaring pure hate into his dark eyes, my finger on the trigger and more than willing to pull the fucking thing.