Chapter 42
Cassidy
Frank
Something terrible is going to happen. This thought isn't entirely off base when it comes to my dad, as trouble always seems to follow Frank everywhere he goes.
I shouldn't be going to see him, but Avery’s safety is more important than my own.
Just thinking her name makes my heart pound erratically in my chest.
I grab my keys and phone and head out to my car, a mixture of anger and nerves dancing around my stomach and chest. Every time I see my dad, all hell breaks loose.
The check, well, my grandparents' check, weighs heavy in my back pocket. I want to hand it over to him as quickly as possible and then book it, not wanting to be involved in his drama. I just hope my grandparents don’t ask any questions.
Yes, they have given me access to their account, but I don’t want them to know that my father is back in contact with me. I’ve come too far to fall back now.
I type in the address and wince. The last time I was there was when I overdosed.
The closer I get to my destination, the more memories come flooding back.
My grip on the steering wheel becomes so tight that my knuckles turn white.
I try to focus on calming my frantic pulse, but it doesn’t work.
And if I don’t pull over soon, I’ll end up crashing the car.
So I pulled over and worked on techniques my therapist taught me to help calm me down.
The sound of my phone buzzing has my pulse racing again, but something tells me I need to look at it.
The second I turn my phone over, my heart sings a happy tune.
She texted me. My eyes fill with tears of relief, knowing that I have her waiting for me at home.
That helps steady my breathing enough to continue driving.
Thirty minutes later, I’m back where everything went up in flames.
I look out of the windshield to the dark alley and see my dad talking to three men with their backs toward me.
I get out of the car and stand there waiting.
It takes him a moment to find me, but when he does, he points in my direction.
When the three men turn around, my heart drops to the floor.
I know these men.
They are the same assholes who hurt me when I was a boy. The same men who also gave me the fix that caused my overdose. My body is stuck in one of those cryotherapy chambers. Each breath is a knife to my lungs.
“I knew you'd come. See? I told you he’d come.”
“I have your money.” My voice is coming out far more controlled than I feel. Thank God.
“Hold on, son. I think it's time we had some father and son bonding time, don't you?” he asks while smiling. His teeth are yellow and chipped with quite a few gaps in his mouth. His once full, wavy, black hair is thinned with a giant bald spot on top of his head. He’s sickly skinny and his skin has a yellowish tint to it.
He looks like a villain straight out of a movie.
“No. I want you to take the damn money and leave me alone. Leave Avery alone.”
“Ahhh, she’s a real beauty, isn't she? She would be a good time. It’s smart of you to send someone over to make sure she's safe.”
His words are like a gunshot to my heart. “What do you know about me sending anyone over there?” I ask.
“Didn’t until just now. Damn, were you always this gullible?
” He chuckles while taking out two needles.
I have no idea what's in them, but I know it’s nothing good.
“Do you want in? For old times' sake? Once a junkie, always a junkie. We can get high together like we used to. You were always good with making payments on time for me. Since you decided to be a pussy and overdose, then get clean, it’s been hard.”
I glance down at the beat-up, rickety table with what I assume are used needles full of heroin in the middle of the alleyway.
For a second, a split second, I think about caving.
My mouth waters again with the temptation to fill my body with that false sense of happiness.
I lick my lips and I notice my father tracking the motion with a smirk on his face.
That smirk washes away any inclination to use.
Honestly, I’m kind of disappointed in myself for even thinking about it.
“No!” I yell.
“You think that because you’re sober and shit now, you're better than us? You’ll never be better than us.
You’re still a worthless piece of shit that will never amount to anything.
A girl like Avery can do better than the likes of you.
Oh, I’ve been watching you. I was biding my time, waiting for the right moment to contact you.
I watched you and I watched her. I thought you caught me a few times, but you’re too stupid to notice.
Avery looks real good, son. Real fucking good. ” He winks.
He confirmed what I already suspected. I wasn’t crazy.
And it wasn’t just anyone stalking me. It was my fucking father.
I take the check out of my pocket and thrust it into his hands.
He takes one look at the check and laughs.
“See, I was planning on taking that check from you and never looking back. But then you had to show up acting all better than me and shit. We don’t trust you.
Who’s to say you won’t snitch on us to the cops?
” he asks, gesturing to the men behind him.
“I think it’s time to teach you a lesson, one you won’t likely forget.
What do you say, boys?” he asks the men and their matching slick grins make my stomach turn.
I know they want me to respond, but these fuckers don’t deserve any part of me. I stare at them, nostrils flaring and glaring at them.
“Hmm, not speaking, huh? Well, we think that maybe we need to add a lot more numbers to that check of yours. It’s the least you could do with all the bullshit you caused,” he says.
“How many numbers are we talking about?” I ask.
When he says the number, I laugh. “Absolutely fucking not. You don't deserve any more money. Hell, you don't even deserve the amount of money on this check. You’re either going to take it or leave it. Maybe I will call the cops. I’m so sick of you and your shit. I’m not going to join you on any more of your adventures and sure as hell won’t bail you out of your shit anymore.
So take the damn check or leave it,” I say, holding the check back out to him.
He just continues to stare at it, still not taking it. I get a glimpse at his face and see pure evil before I turn to walk away. I barely make it three steps before I'm slammed against the brick wall. My head hits the brick with so much force that I start seeing stars.
“You’re going to regret that boy,” says one of the men.
He has his elbow on my throat, applying enough pressure that my vision begins to fade, gasping for breath.
Visions of Avery play in my head. Her curled into the crook of my arm or lying beside me.
Her dancing with me in the rain, our first kiss, her underneath me during our first time.
Our first exchange of I love you’s. She floods my mind, becoming increasingly clear while I struggle for air.
I try to wriggle free, but I have no such luck.
This is it. They’re going to touch me again.
I’m going to be payment again. I brace myself for the feelings, knowing that my only option would be to sit there and take it.
Before I can brace for the impact, the man holding me in place is pulled off me by none other than my dad.
I cough aggressively while trying to fill my lungs with air.
My dad pulling his groupie off of me wasn’t to help me in any way.
Frank is the devil incarnate. He gets off on my pain and suffering if his smirk is anything to go by.
“Now, now, boys, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He can still serve some purpose for us.”
I start to back away from the wall and towards my car. I make it about halfway before my dad presses a gun to my back. “I wouldn't go anywhere if I were you, son. We aren't finished yet. You need to be punished.”
I slowly turn around, the gun now pointing at my stomach. “Please don't do this. Please! You don’t want to kill me, do you?” I plead.
“You're right. I don't,” he says, then takes a few steps back before pivoting.
“Fuck it! I don't care,” he says before he pulls the trigger, causing a radiating pain in my stomach. The last thing I remember is looking down at the hand that was once on my stomach to see it covered in blood. I look into my father’s eyes, completely dumbfounded.
“Hey. What’s going on over there?” I don’t have the energy to search where the voice is coming from, but I’m grateful for that deep, baritone breaking through the tension of the moment.
My battle with consciousness is a losing one, but I hear a mix of cursing and feet slapping against the pavement.
My body collapses, but instead of my head meeting the pavement, I’m cradled in a pair of strong arms.
“Hang in there, man. I called 911 and they’re on their way.” My eyes become unbearably heavy and I’m not sure how long I’ve been laying in this stranger’s arms. The last thing I hear before I lose the battle with consciousness is the faint sound of a siren.
Everything around me slowly fades to black before I completely lose consciousness.
What the fuck? Where am I? I frantically search for a way out, but all I see is endless white.
It’s fucking blinding. I can faintly hear the sound of sirens and it reminds me of my dream with Avery all those months ago.
This can’t be happening again. I promised her I would come home to her.
I’ve let Avery down again. I’ve broken yet another promise to her.
I failed at protecting her, now my father has complete access to her.
Is this what death feels like? How did everything turn south so quickly?
I had everything my father requested and it still wasn’t enough.
Frank. Fuck. I can’t believe I was shot.
My own fucking father shot me. And now I’m dead, never to touch a human again.
I’ll never be able to touch Avery again.
The pain I feel is a bulldozer with my body being the thing that's demolished. Despite me dying, I’m still somehow able to move my body.
My head is in my hands as tears stream down my face.
I’ll never get to hear her laugh, or cry, or sing ever again.
I completely failed at the one thing I promised her: to come home to her.
The sounds of people shouting around me are so faint, like cicadas buzzing in the distance. Before I can process what’s going on, I feel this shock jolt me back into the present moment and I stare up at four pairs of eyes.