Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (16 page)

He belches loudly and looks up when I emerge from the shadows. “Huh?” He squints and shakes his head before he stands up on wobbly legs. Wise man. He needs to be on alert with me. His flannel, buttoned down opens up and underneath is a dirty white shirt. “Who the hell are you?”

I don’t smile. I never do, so why waste it on this piece of shit? “You Ben and Blaire Morgan’s father?”

“Blaire? You know Blaire?” He relaxes, and I see the excitement when he says her name. “She here?” He looks over my shoulder.

“Nope.” I walk up the steps and tower over him. The excitement from moments ago leaves his red eyes. “Aren’t you going to ask about Ben? Your son?”

“Oh yeah? How’s that lowlife doin?” He smiles and shakes his head. “Probably got a shit load of kids, huh? That boy couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Real ladies’ man.” He grabs his crotch. “I guess he got that from me.” He laughs as he sits back down. “Like father like son.”

“I don’t believe so. He wasn’t a piece of shit.”

He stops laughing and stares at me. “Excuse me, boy?”

I lean my shoulder against the porch column and cross my ankles. “I said he wasn’t a piece of shit. And he wasn’t a child abuser.”

He stands up so fast, the plastic chair tips over. “Whatever those shit kids told you is all lies. Everyone knew they were crazy back then. Especially Blaire. The girl made shit up in her head all the time. Didn’t have any friends after her momma died. So I tried to help her fit in. Lot of good that did me. She and that so called son of mine started rumors.”

“Rumors, huh?” I stand straight and cross my arms. “What kind of rumors? The ones of you being a bad father? Because if that’s the case, I don’t think that’s a rumor.”

He face turns red with anger, and he steps toward me, but doesn’t get too close. “Now, hold up one–”

Before he can finish, I grab him by the collar of his dirty shirt and get in his face. “No, you hold up. You’re the one who’s been drinking while a little girl is inside, alone, and starving like that dog out back. You’re the selfish piece of shit that would rather have your cheap beer than get a damn job and do something besides getting drunk.” I shake him hard. “I can ruin you, you sonofabitch. And I might just do it. But I want some fuckin answers, and you’re going to give them to me.”

“You can’t come here and threaten me,” he says, but I hear the tremble in his voice.

I tighten my hold. “I’m here, and I just did.” His throat convulses as he swallows hard. “Now, I want to know if you have ever hurt Blaire? And I want the truth.” I let him go and watch as he falls on the floor of the small porch. As he stands back up, my eyes keep up with his every move. If he tries to run or if he lies, I’m ready.

“No.” He answers in hesitation. His eyes widen for a fraction, and I see a tick in his jaw. The Reform might have been hell on Earth, but if you survived, you learned some pretty heavy shit.

“Wrong answer.” Before he knows what happens, I grab the back of his head and ram his skull on the porch railing. He yells and blood spurts from his now crooked nose. “Wanna try again?”

He holds his nose while leaning over in pain. “Ugh… dammit! You’re fuckin’ crazy. I’m gonna call the cops.”

“No, you won’t. You have a neglected child inside while you’re two sheets to the wind. You could have fallen down the porch steps in a drunken stupor.” He stands up while holding his nose. “Now answer me. Did you
ever
hurt Blaire?”

He stares at me, and I see his internal debate. I know before he answers me what his answer will be. I want him to say it though. I want him to acknowledge what a sick fuck he is. Instead, he smiles with pure maliciousness. I might kill, and I know I’m not a saint, but this piece of shit is sick in the head and I’m tempted to put a bullet in it.

“Yes. She liked it when she got older. She was always a slut. She wanted it. Always brushing her hair and wearing them clothes that left nothing to the imagination. I’m only human. After her mom died, it was her responsibility to be a good daughter and to take care of me. But then her brother had to brainwash her. I warned them nobody would believe ‘em, but he still told.” He starts to laugh with pure insanity. “Don’t worry. That bastard got his. Especially when the cops brought them home after they ran away that first time.”

My head nods slowly as my fists clench and unclench. I imagine crushing this guy’s windpipe as he continues to talk. I imagine him suffering and causing him excruciating pain. So much pain, until he can’t take it and screams for mercy. My heart and adrenaline start to race in unison. As much as I want to kill this motherfucker, I know I need to be careful. This isn’t my job and there are rules. Nevertheless, it will be handled, and that little girl will be taken away from it.

Before I leave to make the call, I give in to my desire to cause this asshole pain. I ball my fist and land a clean right hook to the left side of the fucker’s face. He lands with a loud thud, knocked out cold. When I look up, I see a miniature Blaire watching me with wide eyes through the screen door. All of the sudden, I’m encompassed with a need to see her and hold her because of what she went through. It takes a few hours, but I make sure the girl is in safe hands before I get in the car and head back to the motel to grab my shit. Then I load up and head back to Red. Luckily, the ride isn’t boring or as lonely as on the way up. Ryan’s going to be pissed his car smells like dog though.

It’s early morning when I reach my house, so I let the dog inside and give her a bath. After she’s taken care of, I go and wake up Hyde to get the run down since I left. Nothing major happened at the Jay’s. He does mention that since I left unexpectedly right before our busiest night at Jay’s, they had a girl named Cookie play in my place.

“Was she any good?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. She’s alright. Anyways, how was the trip? Get any answers?”

“Yes and no. What band is this girl with?”

“Um… Serenade? Suave?” He scratches his head as he thinks.

“Sinister?” I ask, and he nods yes. He’s lying about not remembering. His memory is too damn good. But I don’t push. “I’ve heard them play at the Hole. They’re decent.” I decide to ask the one question that has been on my mind the whole time I was gone. “Has Red been back to work or been seen anymore with Bishop?”

Even though I wanted to go check on her myself, I decided not to. I promised myself on the way home I’d keep away. No matter how much I want her, I don’t fucking need her or the trouble she’ll cause. I know my life would fuck her up more than she is. She doesn’t need the baggage I carry or the threat that follows me. She needs better.

“Nope. Chris said she’s been staying in her room. Never comes out while he’s home.” He stands and stretches. “I’m gonna go for a run.”

As he leaves, I debate on doing the same, but I know my feet will take me to the one place I don’t need to be. I don’t need to take the chance of breaking my promise to myself. Instead, I head into my room with my old acoustic guitar. My fingers start strumming on the chords as my thoughts return to Red, her sister, and Polesky. Everything is falling apart, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do about it. Lie to the world or to myself?

Crowned with Obscurity

There’s no light I see

Shadows are the sunlight to someone like me

Waves of coolness travel my skin

Wishing it was your flesh instead once again

But I’m nothing

Nothing that is good for you.

Nothing, but the Devil’s closest kin.

The you I want is not what I need

My need for you is not real

It’s nothing to me

Forgotten to this realm of hate

Forgiveness is what they fake and portray

But you’re a liar too

They all are

Just like me

Darkness is the only light I understand

Shadows are the sunlight to this soulless man

Rays of coolness that travel on my skin

Skin that’s burned and black as sin

Because I’m nothing

Nothing but the Devil’s closest kin

Keeping the faith in something unseen

Knowing you’re lost and nowhere free

Hatred for me is what you should feel

Yearning for fairness is someone else’s will

Not mine

Never mine

“New Beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.”

~Lao Tzu

Blaire

I’m so warm and comfortable. Wrapped in a void of nothingness. No worries or fears. No nightmares. Everything is like an abyss and dark. However, I’m not scared of this darkness. I feel like I’m floating even though I’m heavy. Then I float deeper into nothing.

My oblivion disappears, and I wake feeling the aftermath of another night of drinking. This one seems worse than the others. Then again, it could be from the annoying dog yapping outside. With every deep bark, my head pounds harder. My eyes open and everything is blurry, but after a minute, they adjust and my heart drops.
Where am I?
Judging by the wall covered in tacky wallpaper, I’m not in my room at Chris’s house. And judging from the snores coming from my left, I’m not alone either. What the hell did I do?

I think of my late night of drinking. I remember having an excruciating headache, so I took two more of Chris’s pain pills. Then I became restless. So I decided to go out for a drink. I walked into a dance club wanting to people watch without being recognized. After that, my mind goes blank, and my head hurts too much to continue recalling last night’s events. I know I need to get out of here… wherever here is. Angry and confused, I kick my bed partner and climb out the bed to look for my clothes.

He grunts but doesn’t wake. I see blond hair sticking out from the top of the blanket but refuse to look. Maybe it’ll disappear that way. People say ignorance is bliss.

After I slip on my jeans, I notice a brown leather wallet on the floor open with a few twenties sticking out. Feeling my old ways creep up, I decide to take what I feel I deserve. Why not? This guy obviously had a good time. He’s not the one who feels like used trash afterwards. As I take this guy’s cash, his ID reaches my line of sight, and I feel sick because I recognize him. He’s one of the biggest playboys to enter Jay’s, and it looks like I was his latest game. David Lawrence.

Before I vomit from being one of his bimbos and girls I’ve always hated, I let my adrenaline get me the hell out of there. As I’m leaving, I pass a bunch of guys in the kitchen and know I’m in a frat house. When they see me, I hear a bunch of whistles and rude comments. However, I don’t feel like confronting them. Panic is setting in, and I need to get away.