Chapter 35 #2
“I thought you were sober,” I say tightly.
Morgan nods slowly. “Eight years now.”
I grit my teeth as Val puts a hand on Morgan’s shoulder and squeezes. “Proud of you, Dad. I can’t imagine the strength that took.”
Jesus Christ.
“No, I meant that you said disease you have,” I mutter. “Not had.”
“An addict will always be an addict,” Val says stonily as he glares at me. “The trick is not to be an addict that uses.”
Morgan clears his throat and turns to Evelina. “Ms. Nikitin here was just telling me before you arrived that her brother, Val’s special guy, is in the program, too?”
“Isn’t it Alcoholics Anonymous?” I say waspishly.
Evelina kicks my shin under the table, then smiles at Morgan.
“He is, Mr. Bancroft. Six months sober. I’m—” She smiles again and nods at my brother. “We’re both really proud of him.”
Morgan shakes his head. “That’s incredible. Good for him. It took me four years to achieve six unbroken months of sobriety,” he sighs.
“How’d you do it?” Val asks.
“A lot of hard work, self-reflection, commitment, and a desire to overcome something bigger than myself.”
“Huh,” I mutter. “So I guess you did have the wherewithal to be a decent fucking parent in you. You just didn’t bother to use it until it was about yourself, not your children.”
Evelina turns and frowns at me. Val shoots me a venomous look.
Morgan exhales. “I understand that you’ve got a lot of anger, son.”
Mother. Fucker.
“I told you,” I growl, pointing a finger at him, “not to fucking call me that.”
“Vaughn…” Evelina says warningly as she puts her hand on my arm.
I shake my head, looking between her and my brother.
“I know you both think I’m just being a prick.
But you,” I look at Evelina, “weren’t there, and you,” I turn to Val, “don’t remember.
” I point violently across the table at Morgan.
“The apologies are nice. The sobriety is peachy. But the hell this fucker put the two of us through is not something I’m going to roll over and fucking forget, okay? !”
“Vaughn—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl at Morgan. “You might be able pull the wool over Val's eyes, because his amnesia stops him from remembering the truth. Hell, maybe you were so fucked up all the time you don’t even recall yourself. But I haven’t forgotten any of it,” I snap viciously.
“You want to tell my brother here about the time one of your meth-head buddies pulled his dick out and tried to corner him in the bathroom?”
Morgan’s face pales.
“You want to tell him how you just sat there on the couch laughing at fuck-knows-what while I beat his fucking teeth in with the handle of the toilet plunger?! Oh, I know. How about the time mom was all fucked up and accused me of stealing her Oxy? Remember that, Dad?!”
I violently shrug off my jacket, undo my sleeve button, and yank my shirt up over my forearm.
“Remember how she put cigarettes out on me until I admitted to selling the fuckin’ pills, even though she was the one who'd done them all and just forgot?” I smile coldly, running a fingertip over the scars on my inner forearm. “Do you remember how you did nothing and just watched?!”
The table is silent. Fuck, the ones around us are.
Val swallows, his face white as he looks at me. “Hey, Vaughn—”
“You want more?” I grin maniacally as Demon shifts inside me. Snarls. And comes charging out.
Fuck.
“Yeah, let’s do some more!” I yell with a crazy-ass smile on my face.
“We’ve got—” I frown. “I’ve got plenty.” I stab my gaze across the table at Morgan, whose face is now a mask of horror.
“How ‘bout it, Pop? Think Val wants to replay the Christmas where you unwrapped all the presents on Christmas Eve in front of us and then took off to go sell them for heroin?”
“Vaughn—” he croaks.
But we’re not done. We’re just getting fucking started.
Settle down. You can’t be here.
Oh, we’re fucking HERE, motherfucker. Let’s fucking goooo.
“How about the time you made me drink vodka until I puked because you thought it was funny?” I choke.
“Or the times you had me hold your tie-off while you shot up?
Oh, and lest we forget, there was that fun day when you came home early and Mom was still fucking one of her Johns on the couch while I kept pillows over Val's ears so he wouldn't hear.” I glare death at him.
“And then you two started screaming at each other, and I walked out and told you that you were scaring Val, and you punched me in the face for my pains.”
Morgan is silent, staring at me with a faraway look in his eye.
“I was fucking EIGHT YEARS OLD, MOTHERFUCKER!”
The whole fucking restaurant is silent now, and staring.
I whirl on my brother. “And you wonder why I want fuck-all to do with this asshole?!” I choke. “You wonder why I’m ‘not trying’?!”
I spin to Evelina. “You starting to get why it wasn’t fucking cute to ambush me with this fucking shit?!”
Her face crumples. I look away and laser focus my rage on Morgan.
“You find it hard to comprehend that we made it to New York?” I bark out a cold, brutal laugh.
“Motherfucker, I find it hard to comprehend that I’m alive after being so unfortune to be born as your fucking kid!
You have no idea the shit I did to make sure Val and I survived in a world that wanted to grind us under its heel.
” I shake my head at him. “Keep your apologies. Keep your fucking sobriety and your sanctimonious self-fucking-forgiveness. I’m not your redemption arc, I’m not your fucking Hallmark holiday movie, I’m your child,” I seethe.
“And when Val and I needed you to own that responsibility, you threw us to the fucking wolves.”
It feels like the entire world is silent as Demon slinks back into the shadows.
Morgan looks…empty. Shattered. Broken.
Good.
But Val does too. That’s…not.
I turn to him. “I…I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs. Then he stands. I can see the war on his face as he turns to our father. “This isn’t me saying goodbye, Morgan. But I do need some space to absorb this.”
Morgan looks up at my brother with pain in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Val,” he chokes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Val nods. Then he turns to me. He doesn’t say anything, just drops a hand to my shoulder and squeezes.
Then he walks out.
My gaze shifts back to Morgan.
“He’s been through a lot,” I hiss. “Nightmare after nightmare. Devil after devil. Some of them I could fight off, others I couldn’t. But you?” I shake my head. “I will fight you off before I let you fuck with him anymore. Is that understood?”
He nods.
A hand lands gently on my arm, and I turn to see Evelina looking at me with tears trickling down her cheeks.
“Mr. Bancroft,” she chokes, glancing at Morgan. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.”
I’m only vaguely aware of her standing with me, taking my hand, and leading me out of the restaurant.
“Is this the part where you tell me I acted insane and that I don’t understand complicated relationships with fathers?” I growl when we step outside into the noise of the city.
“No,” she chokes. She twists, grabs my shirt, and pulls me down close, her eyes searching mine. “This is the part where I tell you I’m so fucking sorry. This is the part where I tell you I’m here for you, with whatever you need.”
And then she kisses me.
And God-fucking-damnit, everything else just sort of fades away.