Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Chesney, Age Fifteen
There really isn’t much my dad can’t manipulate into an argument these days. Sometimes I think if he really wanted to, he could pick a fight with the weather if he didn’t like the direction of the wind.
“You’re late,” he mutters with disdain as I shut the passenger door of my friend’s truck and he drives off. “You were supposed to be here at four.”
I breathe a sigh. “Dad, it’s four-oh-five. I’d hardly call that late.”
His jaw tightens, and I know I should’ve kept my mouth shut. “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”
I bite back the first thing that comes to mind. Mostly because Mom is standing in the kitchen window, watching us. And because Truett is across the barn, pretending to work on a saddle while very obviously listening. “I had homework,” I say instead.
“You’ve always got some excuse, don’t you?”
Staring at him, my pulse kicks up. “School isn’t an excuse.”
“Not when you’re taking it seriously,” he huffs.
Anger slices through my chest. “I am taking it seriously.”
My dad chuckles, but it’s lacking any humor. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Then he turns away, letting me know in not so many words that the conversation is over.
But something about that pisses me off more than the words.
Maybe it’s because I’m fifteen and full of so-called teenage-angst, or maybe it’s because everything he says lately feels like proof that I’ll never be enough.
I don’t know when it started, but nothing I do seems to satisfy him anymore.
In his eyes, I’ll never be the go-getter like Truett is.
Never be as well-mannered as Lyle is. Never be the spitting image of himself that he expects all of us to be.
Swallowing down my irritation, I grab the feed bucket. “Where do you want this?”
He doesn’t bother looking at me. “North pasture.”
“Got it.”
“And after that, fix the gate,” he adds bitterly.
I pause, glancing at him. “The north pasture?”
“Did I stutter, Son?”
God, he’s such a fucking asshole.
“That gate’s broken because the tractor hit it,” I say slowly.
That finally earns me a look. “Yeah. That’s why I’m telling you to fix it.”
“But that’ll take forever. Dinner will be soon, and I have to study after. There’s a test tomorrow.”
Agitation darkens his gaze. “You think this ranch cares about your test?”
The words set off something hot and ugly inside me. “Maybe not,” I grit out. “But I care, and I need to study.”
His eyes narrow. “What the fuck did you say?”
I should stop. I know I should. Every instinct I’ve developed over the last fifteen years tells me to shut my mouth. Instead, I turn around, puff out my chest, and say, “I said maybe I care about something besides this ranch.”
Silence follows. I swear, even the horses go still. Dad slowly sets down the wrench in his hand, his jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised he doesn’t crack a molar.
“You better watch yourself, Chesney,” he grits out in a tone so low a shiver rolls down my spine.
And yet, I still don’t back down.
“Why?”
“Because you ain’t gonna stand in my barn and speak to me like that.”
This time, it’s my eyes that narrow. “It ain’t your barn.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he huffs out a dark chuckle. “What?”
I jut my chin out defiantly, folding my arms over my chest. “It’s Grandpa’s barn. Not yours.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve gone too far. Dad takes a step toward me, and my instinct is to put some distance between us. But I don’t. Apparently, I like playing with fire tonight.
“You’re fifteen fucking years old,” he mutters. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about what you’re talking about.”
My pulse thunders in my ears. “Maybe I’d know more if you’d actually teach me instead of just yelling at me all the time.”
It never used to be like this with him. Sure, we’ve never been super close, but over the last year, it feels like he can’t even stand to be around me.
He’s hard on Lyle and Truett too, but I swear with me, it’s different.
Truett’s almost eighteen and spends all his free time helping out on the ranch, Lyle’s too young to really put to work, but me…
High school’s been hard on me, and I’ve had to spend a lot more time focusing on that than helping. I think he resents me for it.
My mom tells me I shouldn’t let it get to me. That he’s stressed and on edge because of troubles with business. But fuck that. I’m his child, and I shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him because he can’t figure out how to manage his own anger.
Dad’s face twists in anger. “Excuse me?”
“Forget it.” When I turn toward the feed, my dad grabs my shoulder, but I jerk away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking.”
I hear Truett take a step somewhere behind me, but I ignore it, my gaze locked on the man in front of me. “I’m not walking away,” I mutter. “I’m trying to do what you asked.”
He laughs and rubs a hand down his face. “You think because you’re getting older, suddenly you can talk to me however the hell you want?”
“No.” I turn around again, this time grabbing the bucket off the ground before adding, “What I think is that I’m tired of you treating me like I’m stupid.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t feel so stupid if you spent half as much time working as you do sneaking around.”
My stomach drops, and I nearly drop the bucket. It feels like the floor has been ripped from under me.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, somehow keeping my voice even despite the violent beating of my heart.
“You know exactly what it means.”
“I don’t. Explain it to me.”
Does he know about Jasper?
No. There’s no way. That’s not something he’d keep to himself or be flippant about. He can’t know.
“You’re always fucking disappearing,” he offers plainly.
“I have friends. Kind of normal for a teenager.”
“Yeah, well, those friends aren’t going to feed you.”
“What?” Is he serious? “Obviously, I’m not asking them to. What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with the fact that you act like this family means nothing to you.”
That hits me deep in the chest because it couldn’t be further from the truth. My family matters to me so much it feels like it’s choking me sometimes.
“I never, not even once, said that.”
“You don’t have to,” he mutters, taking a step closer. “You’re fifteen and think you know everything. You think the whole fucking world owes you something.”
“No, I don’t.”
I feel about two feet tall with him looming over and speaking to me the way he is.
“You think you’re too good for this place. I see it on your face every day.”
“No.”
“Then tell me something, Chesney… Why the hell do you keep acting like you can’t wait to get away from here?”
I clench my jaw and stare at him. He doesn’t even know how on the nose he is.
I used to love everything about this place.
The view. The wide open spaces. The smell of hay and dust, and even the manure.
I loved working on the ranch with my dad and my grandpa.
Loved putting on my boots and hat and learning from the men I looked up to.
My heroes. But now… Being here feels like a punishment.
I can’t be who I really am. Can’t tell my parents how I feel about Jasper.
I can’t fucking breathe in this barn, in my house, on this land.
I’m suffocating in the expectations and the secrets I know I have to keep.
It shouldn’t be this way.
Other kids don’t have to hide who they’re friends with. They don’t have to hide who they have feelings for.
“Maybe I can’t,” I say, even as my knees wobble and my pulse thunders.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad’s expression look as cold as it does right now. “Then go.”
My heart stutters. “What?”
“You heard me.” He points toward the driveway behind me. “If this ranch is so beneath you, get the hell off it.”
“Dad—”
“No!” he shouts, cutting me off. “You want to act grown? Go be grown.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to be here.”
“Then I suggest you start acting like it.”
“I am!” My voice cracks across the barn. “I work. I help. I go to school. I do everything you ask!”
“Not everything,” he sneers.
“What else could you possibly want from me, Dad? What?”
“I want you to care.”
I’m not sure why, but those five words feel like a slap in the face. “I do care.”
He stares down his nose at me, and I’ve never wished to be taller than I do right now. “Then prove it.”
“How?”
“Stop running off any chance you get. You think I don’t notice how long it takes you to get home from the bus? You think I don’t notice all the times you disappear on the weekends?”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah? Where were you yesterday, then?”
I freeze.
Truett walks a little closer, making himself known in my peripheral vision. Dad notices too.
A shiver shoots down my spine because yesterday I snuck away with Jasper.
We took the horses for a ride along the creek and found a new fishing spot.
What was only meant to be an hour away from the house turned into four because we were having so much fun.
Dad was busy building a shed for Mom. I didn’t think he’d even notice. But apparently, he did.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffs.
“I was with a friend.” My voice comes out meek and small. I hate it. “I finished all the chores you gave me. What’s the big deal?”
He lifts a brow. “Which friend?” When I say nothing, he steps closer. “Which friend, Chesney?”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. “Just someone from school.”
“Boy or girl?”
The question comes out with enough suspicion to make my skin crawl.
My brows pinch. “Why does that matter?”
“Because I said so.”
I laugh bitterly before I can stop myself. “That’s your answer for everything.”
His eyes harden as he watches me. “I’m not gonna tell you to watch your mouth again.”
“Expecting your children to do whatever you want simply because you say so is so messed up. We’re people too, in case you’ve forgotten.
I shouldn’t have to provide you with a list of every single person I’m friends with.
I’m allowed to keep some things to myself, and I deserve a little privacy. I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad.”
“You’re right, you’re not a little kid anymore,” he says with a shrug. “But you’re becoming quite the disrespectful little shit, and I’ve about had it. If I spoke to my father the way you speak to me, he would’ve whooped my ass into next week.”
Something in me snaps. I step toward my dad, my gaze narrowed as I glower at him. Maybe it’s because I’m stupid, or maybe I’m just angry enough not to care. “Coming from you, that’s really not saying a whole lot.”
“You got some nerve talking to me like that, Son.”
“Why? Because you’re my dad?”
“Because I’m your fucking father, and I deserve respect.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to treat me like garbage,” I say. “I’m treating you with the same amount of respect you’re showing to me.”
Dad’s eyes flash, and I swear I see steam pouring out his ears. “You think I treat you like garbage?”
I swallow, but don’t back down. “Sometimes, yeah.”
His lip curls as his hands tighten into fists. He doesn’t raise them, and I doubt he’d ever do it, but I see it and it pisses me off.
“If you’re gonna hit me, fucking do it already.”
“Chesney.” Truett’s deep voice is suddenly right behind me. I don’t look at him, and neither does our dad.
“You think you’re some kind of man now?” Dad asks with amusement in his tone.
“I am a man.” My pulse is pounding so fast I’m surprised I can hear anything else. “But I’m also your son.”
Something flickers across his face. Pain, maybe. Or guilt. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced with anger. “Go to your fucking room.”
Go to my room? Really?
“No. I don’t have to.”
Truett grabs my arm. “Come on, Chesney.”
“Mind your own business,” I mutter, yanking away from his grip.
My brother looks at me almost pleadingly. “Ches…”
“Leave me the hell alone! This ain’t got nothing to do with you, so stay out of it.”
Dad points toward the house with one hand, poking me in the chest with his other. “Now.”
I glare at him. My mouth is dry, and my body is vibrating with how mad I am.
There’s so much more I want to say, but I know it’s pointless.
It’ll go nowhere with him, especially with his little fucking golden child by his side.
Spinning around, I make it four steps before my dad’s voice reaches my ears.
“You keep going down this road, you’ll regret it. I promise you that. You’re gonna learn some goddamn respect one way or another.”
I don’t stop, and I don’t respond. I storm out of the barn and across the yard, my blood pumping hot and my heart racing the whole way.
I don’t hear what Dad says after that, nor do I hear anything Mom says when I walk through the front door.
I’m halfway up the stairs before Truett catches up, the sound of his boots on the hardwood grating my nerves.
“Leave me alone,” I spit out, not bothering to stop.
“No.”
Once I’m in my room, I slam the door behind me, but of course my brother stops it before it can fully close. “I’m fucking serious, Truett. Leave me the hell alone. I’m fine.” My eyes burn, and I wipe angrily at the moisture wetting my cheeks.
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not crying,” I grit through my teeth, shame ripping through my chest.
“Never said you were.” He’s so calm. So unbothered. It pisses me off. His gaze softens when he says, “Wanna go fishing?”
I rear back, my brows pinching. “What?”
“Not tonight.” He shrugs. “But tomorrow.”
“Why?” I don’t understand what’s happening or why he’s asking me this.
“Because you look like you wanna punch a hole through the wall.”
A laugh bubbles past my lips before I can stop it. “Well, maybe I do.”
He chuckles softly. “I don’t think Mom would appreciate that too much.”
Glancing down at the rug beneath my feet, I exhale a deep breath.
The anger and hurt are still there, but I also feel a strange sense of relief.
I’m relieved that somebody saw what happened.
That somebody understands. But I don’t know how to let him help me, so I shove my hands in my pockets and avoid his gaze.
“Fine,” I mutter under my breath.
“Fine?”
“I’ll go fishing with you. You’re obviously desperate for friends.”
Truett laughs to himself, but ignores it. “Tomorrow morning?”
I nod once. “Sure. Tomorrow morning.”
My brother claps me on the shoulder and smiles. “Good.”
He leaves my room after that, and then I’m all alone. Everything that just happened in the barn plays through my mind on a loop. That fight was a long time coming, and somehow, I just know our relationship will never be the same.
I want my father to appreciate me. To see me.
I want him to love me.
But I’m not sure how much longer I can keep asking.