26 no son of mine
“Dad,” I say, reaching toward him.
I don’t know what reaction I was trying to get from him, but I’m not really shocked when he plants his boot in the center of my bare chest and shoves me back.
“Stay there!” he snaps, turning his attention back to Gray.
The whole movement was the same as you might do to a rambunctious puppy, but I was already off-balance and trying to sit up.
Between my fucked up, heat-laden body and Dad’s alpha strength, I’m flung back harder than he must have intended.
The sound my head makes when it snaps against Gray’s hardwood flooring is audible, but dull, and doesn’t seem to penetrate the fog of anger surrounding Dad and Gray.
I’m disoriented as the world whites out for a minute. My hearing zips away to nothing, and I’m not sure how much time passes—probably seconds—before it comes back in with a sort of whomp, whomp throb.
My vision returns the same way, but my eyes are watering. It takes a while for the pain to settle in, and for a minute, it’s all I can think about.
Adrenaline is flooding my body, though, and I manage to claw my way back to full consciousness just in time to catch Dad and Gray’s conversation mid-sentence.
“—not a child!” Gray is saying, trying to get off the couch and pull his pants on at the same time.
Dad is standing over him, his fists clenched at his sides, and it’s honestly a testament to how much he respects Gray—or maybe just fears him—that he’s talking at all.
When he shouts, it’s so heavy with anger, I can only make out a few words.
“—perversion—my boy—influence—sickness”
It’s enough to get the gist.
“All you’ve ever done is hurt him, Frank. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself. You’re not a man, you’re an angry, hateful fucking monster and you take it all out on Tanner. Who’s done fucking nothing to deserve it. He’s the best man I fucking know,
and you spend all your energy trying to cower him into submission. All I did was be here for him because you sure as hell weren’t going to, you abusive, self-centered fuck.”
Gray’s voice rises steadily throughout the speech until he’s almost as angry as Dad. Once they’re standing toe to toe, with Gray raised up to his most intimidating posture, the difference between them is obvious.
Dad looks slow, and somehow older, even though they’re almost the same age. Gray has height, muscle and discipline on my father, which is not something he’s used to dealing with in the world.
For the briefest flash, I think Dad might back down. Then his face flushes red, and he swings a fucking haymaker at Gray with a hoarse shout.
Gray half ducks, still getting clipped on the chin by the punch. He responds by shoving Dad backwards with both hands, and I can palpably feel the moment the gloves come off.
The room stinks of alpha rage, and for a second, I think I might vomit. I’m too fucking hot. Nothing makes sense, and my body is fucking screaming at me to get out of this situation.
I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be anywhere but here.
But such a big part of me is fighting against that instinct because I’m so goddamn sick of this shit. It feels like I’ve spent the last six months shivering and cold, bouncing from person to person as I beg for protection, and I’m fucking over it.
When I see Dad actually land a decent hit that shakes Gray for a moment, I snap.
Every moment that he made me feel small or fucking worthless seems to mount up inside me, and it drives me forward.
I tackle my father, taking us both to the ground and leaving Gray there with a face of blank shock. Dad is caught off guard as well, but quickly responds.
He uses his strength to flip us, until he’s the one pinning me to the ground.
He’s telling me to stop, to “fucking behave”, and it only lights more of a fire under me.
I get an elbow to his eye that must fucking smart, and follow it with a knee to the balls, and Dad stops pretending he doesn’t want to hit me.
As soon as he loses his last shred of self-control, it becomes pretty obvious that I’m outmatched. He punches me in the face once, and it’s enough to have me seeing stars. My hands go limp, and he grabs me before snapping the back of my head against the floor in the same spot as before.
I can already feel blood on my face, so he probably broke my nose, and my lip has re-split. There’s iron on my tongue as he shifts and wraps his hands around my throat.
Within seconds, my vision dims at the edges. I try to cough, but nothing happens. I feel like I’m floating, and all I can see is my father’s face, red with rage, finally unleashing all the hatred he’s been harboring for me over the years.
This is it. I try to suck in a breath, but nothing happens, and my lungs begin to burn.
It all happens in seconds. I’m on the cusp of giving up. Unconsciousness is right there, and I’m about ready to reach for it when Dad jerks back.
His hands leave my neck, he’s no longer towering over me, and I’m left coughing and blinking, trying to pull myself back from the brink of extinction.
Gray, I think, as the sound of fists hitting flesh fills the room.
I manage to roll onto my side and spit blood onto the floor as my vision clears enough to see. Gray is on top of Dad, they’re both spattered with blood, and framed by the open doorway.
“Stop,” I try to say, but the word comes out in a croak.
Then Atlas appears in the doorway, his face going pale as he takes in the scene.
“Oh, shit,” he says, before his instincts kick in and jumps into action.
My brother runs to me, even though I’m trying to force the words through my damaged voice to make them stop fighting.
He’s not alone, though. There’s a flash of blue light from the street, and two cops run in.
It’s a small town, so I recognize them both, and they both know Dad.
Probably Gray, too. They’re a little slower to get moving than Atlas was, but they snap into it eventually and start pulling Gray and Frank apart.
My vision blurs again, and I let my head fall backwards onto the floor. Atlas is hovering over me, hands inches away from my body, his eyes scanning back and forth like he’s looking at my injuries.
“Don’t worry, Tanner. An ambulance is coming. You’re okay.”
“Gray—” I choke out, but Atlas only shakes his head.
“He’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just stay still.”
I believe him. Mostly.
Enough for a little of the adrenaline to ebb. And apparently that was the only thing tethering me to consciousness.
The last thing I hear is Gray yelling my name from a long way away, and then the blackness finally swallows me.