“Well,” I smile. “I was trying to be a good boyfriend and get you coffee before picking you up.”
She searches my hands then jumps up looking in the car. “Where is it?” Her desperation for that first sip of energy would be funny if she didn’t look quite so upset about the lack of coffee.
“I didn’t have my wallet on me.” Grabbing the ice chest, I carry it to my car. Amelia is already sitting in the passenger seat while I hoist the heavy box into the backseat. “What do you have in this thing?”
“Aunt Lucia loaded it up with food and water.” She gives me a questioning look. “Are we going by your house?”
The reluctance in her voice kills me. Especially since I’m the one who told her how awful he is most of the time. He has good days. They are just few and far between. “Yeah,” I answer. “You can stay in the car, though. It will only take me a second to run in and get it.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” she mutters. “One day I want to meet your dad, but not until he starts living foryouand nothimself.”
I give her hand a quick squeeze. She’s always looking out for what’s best for me. Being cared about, and for, hasn’t happened in so long. I almost forgot what it feels like.
Amelia dozes off on the drive to my house. As soon as her eyes drifted shut, I turned the radio down. Not wanting to bother her.
Now we’re in my driveway, and I don’t know if I should wake her, or let her sleep. The latter wins. Pulling on the handle, I open the door as quietly as possible, and leave it open after getting out.
Dad’s truck is still here, except I don’t hear any noise coming from inside. Fingers crossed he’s still asleep, I open the front door. Fate is a fickle bitch because my dad is standing in the hallway with my wallet in his hand. “Forget something?”
Fifteen
Amelia
My eyes slowly open.Crap, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the poor guy. Turning to my left, I realize he’s not in the car and the driver side door is wide open. Where did he go?
It’s only then I begin to take in my surroundings. The house is white, or at least it used to be. Paint is chipping off in big chunks. The front porch is sagging as if it can no longer bear the weight it’s been given. The blinds covering the windows have gaping holes in them rendering them almost useless. This must be Randall’s house.
The outward appearance isn’t what has me getting out of the car, rushing toward it. It’s the shouting coming from inside. His dad must be giving him a hard time. Running in there probably isn’t a smart idea given everything Randall has told me about the person that was tasked with raising him. I can’t just sit in the car and act like there isn’t a huge fight going on inside those walls.
I’m a few yards from the house when I hear Randall yell, “Give me my fucking wallet, Dad.”
Stopping in my tracks, I’m not so sure I want to go in there anymore. Fear for Randall propelled me here, but I’ve never been in this sort of situation. Arguing parents is normal, just not at this level. I can’t think of a time I would ever speak to my mom or dad the way Randall just spoke to his. It makes me wonder if this is what he’s capable of when his temper gets the best of it. Even though I’ve never seen him truly get angry, that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of it. He has enough torment stored up inside him to fuel it.
Randall storms out of the front door, wallet in hand. “Let’s go.”
An older man follows him out. His hair is graying and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in about a week. He looks much older than he probably is thanks to the lifestyle he’s led since his wife left him. “She’s going to leave you just like your mom did,” he slurs. “I don’t know why the hell you’re spending money on her when it’s not going to last.”
“I said let’s go,” Randall grabs my hand, pulling me toward the car.
“That’s right, run away,” his dad laughs. “Just don’t come crying to me when she decides she doesn’t want you anymore. When she breaks your heart and destroys you.”
Randall drops my hand and spins around. “Like you have room to talk. What the hell do you think you’ve been doing the past fourteen years,” he shouts. “I’ve had to raise myself, or rely on my friends’ parents.I’mthe one who has been paying the rent since I was able to work. And what exactly have you done?” He taps his fingers on his chin. “Oh, that’s right. You stay drunk all the time, floating from job to job because you can’t even show up to worksober.”
“You little shit,” his dad spits out. “If you think you’re so grown, come at me like a real man.”
Randall doesn’t hesitate. He closes the distance between him and his father, and raises his arm. Readying for a punch. It’s a good thing I followed close behind him, even though every cell in my body was telling me to stay back. Grabbing his arm, I try to hold him back with all the strength I possess. “Don’t do this, Randall,” I whisper, harshly. “You’ll regret it later.”
He shrugs me off, takes a step back, and shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here.” He waits until I start walking to car before following me. His dad glaring daggers at him the entire time.
Anger radiates off of him, yet he still manages to take the time to open the door for me. Showing me that none of this is directed toward me. As soon as I’m safely tucked away in the car, he gives his dad one last look and gets in the car. Putting the car in reverse, the tires spin as he backs out of the driveway.
Both of us are silent as he drives as fast as he can away from his house. The only place he’s called home despite the bullshit he has to deal with. Minutes pass before he pulls over, puts the car in park, and leans his head against the steering wheel.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, gathering his composure. Finally, he turns his head until he’s facing me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Amelia. I never meant for you to see that. To seehim.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reach over, placing my hand on his leg. “You can’t control his actions. One day he’ll regret the way he’s treated you.”
“The way I acted wasn’t any better,” he sniffles, a tear sliding down his cheek. If I wasn’t terrified of his dad, I’d march my ass back to the house and tell him exactly what I think. “And, for that, I apologize.” Slipping his hand over mine, he gives it a gentle squeeze. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”