Chapter 7
Beckett
Tonight’s the night of my first junior rodeo, and my nerves are all over the place. I came home to grab the spurs I forgot in my bedroom when I left for school this morning. Carson is supposed to meet me at the arena in thirty minutes so we can draw our bulls early and relax until the event starts.
Walking out of my room, I zip up my bag after throwing my spurs inside and stop in the kitchen to see if there was anything to drink in the fridge.
Naturally, it’s empty.
“Where are you going?” My father sits at the small table that is cluttered with papers, old dishes, and clothes.
“My rodeo is tonight,” I tell him even though I have told him multiple times this week. I even asked him and mom to come watch me.
But crickets are all I got in return.
“Throwing your life away, boy. You cannot make anything out of rodeoing or riding a bull.”
“I think some scouts are coming to watch us this year. I could rodeo in college,” I say with excitement. That would be a dream come true. To be able to continue riding bulls and getting the hell away from here.
My father laughs. “College? You won’t be going to college. We can’t afford such luxury.”
“I have almost perfect grades, dad. I could get a scholarship.”
“What are we to do if you aren’t here?” My mother’s voice chimes in now.
I didn’t realize it before, but she was sitting at the table, too.
Her head was just lying down, and the pile of clothes was hiding her behind it.
Her dirty blonde hair and smudged eye liner make her look like she has either been crying or high. I’d say the latter of the two.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
She smiles, a narcissistic look on her face. “Beckett, we need you to keep this house clean, get our groceries, and pay the bills. That’s why we keep you around. Don’t you know that?”
“You wouldn’t want me to better myself?” I ask.
My father stands, and within two strides, makes it to me.
“You think you’re better than us, boy? You think you can go out and do better than your parents?
How selfish of you! We are the reason you are even here!
Your mama could have gotten rid of you when she found out, but we thought you’d be of use to us! ”
I shove him off me, tears prickling the corner of my eyes.
He comes back with revenge and punches me hard in my right eye. “AHhh!!” I scream out.
“Come here boy, you need to learn a lesson.” He grabs me up by the collar of my shirt and hits me again. This time I can feel blood rushing from my nose.
“Stop!” I hear Carson’s voice from the front door. He runs head down and smashes into my father, his hands fall from me, and he starts hitting Carson now.
“Get off of him!” I yell and rush to them, my nose still pouring blood, but grab my father by his hair and yank him off of Carson, slamming him down on the floor.
“Don’t you ever fucking hit him again!” Carson yells at my father.
“It’s a sad day that you have to have your rich friend here taking care of you, Beckett. You can’t even care for yourself.” My mother gives the worst laugh while my father still lies on the floor at our feet, holding his face.
“I won’t be home tonight.” I tell them, slinging my bag over my shoulder and wiping my nose on my shirt. It hurts like a bitch.
Making it outside the house as quickly as possible, Carson’s truck sits in the driveway. “How did you know to come here?” I ask him once we climb inside. “I was supposed to be meeting you.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I heard a voice tell me to stop on my way to the arena.”
“Thank you.” I hold my hand out to my friend. “You don’t know how much your friendship means to me, Carson.”
He takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re my brother, Beckett. Maybe not by blood, but in my heart, you are. Me and you will always have each other’s back. Through the good, bad, and downright ugly.”
I tighten my hold on his hand. “Brothers for life.”
He smirks. “You damn right.”
Carson pulls out of the driveway, heading toward the rodeo grounds and laughs. “My father is going to be pissed when he sees both of our faces. At least my nose isn’t broken like yours looks.”
I cringe. Holden might very well kill my father for what he did.
“No hiding this one,” I shrug.
“It’ll be alright. You can just stay with us. You know my home is your home.” He hits my shoulder with his fist before turning his attention back onto the road.
I look out the window, and look up at the sunset over the mountains, every bit of my being thankful for the Taylor family.