17. Hit Me
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HIT ME
Payne
Past
Sixteen years ago
“You’ve been accepted to Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. If you think you’re going to drive down the road twenty minutes to go to a second-class state school, then that girl really is leading you around by your dick.”
Mom winces from where she sits across from Dad at the dining table but doesn’t say a word. Not that I expect her to. She never has. Her hand trembles when she picks up her martini and takes a huge gulp.
I turn back to Dad who’s sitting at the head of the table where Sadie just served dinner like she has five days a week since I was little.
My acceptance to the so-called second-class state school sits between Dad and me.
I knew he wasn’t going to take the news well.
He was the one who made me apply to every ivy league on the east coast even though I told him I wasn’t going.
I normally do everything I can to appease him. Hell, I normally do everything I can to stay out of his sight. The less I have anything to do with my father, the better. But not this. On this, I’m standing my ground.
I pick up my fork and cut into the tenderloin that’s cooked to perfection, just like always.
“It’s too late. I’ve already accepted my scholarship to State.
With my scores, I’ll have a full ride, so you won’t have to worry about giving any of your money to an in-state school.
I know that would kill you a little from the inside out. ”
Dad’s fork drops to the china plate with a loud clank.
He picks up the acceptance letter and fists it as his face turns a shade of pink.
When it comes to him, I can’t tell if it’s anger or the alcohol.
He slams his fist on the mahogany table and growls, “You can unaccept just as fast as you accepted. No son of mine is going to a state school. When you work for me after college, I want the ivy league after your name. It’ll hold water with clients. ”
I toss a piece of meat into my mouth, shrug, and speak like I’m talking about rain in the forecast rather than my future. I’ve made it my goal in life to keep my cool when he gets like this. “I guess that won’t be a problem then. I’ll never work for you.”
He rips the letter in half, and for good measure, in half again. “You’re going to Harvard.”
I point to the ripped-up paper with my fork that’s nothing more than a printed email. “You know, in modern times like these, students are accepted electronically. I don’t need that piece of paper to walk into class on day one. Just saying.”
He grabs my plate and flings it across the room.
It almost hits Mom, but she’s too far gone from the afternoon cocktail hour that led into dinner drinks to budge.
Dad’s face has morphed from pink to a shade of incensed red that I’m well familiar with.
His chair topples backward when he stands and yanks me up by the collar.
“You little fucker.” He spits every angry word in my face. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You think I’ve worked my ass off for years to give you all this just to have you shit all over your future?”
He’s still got thirty pounds on me. It doesn’t matter how much I eat, I’m seventeen and can’t put on any weight.
It’s everything I can do to push him away, but he holds tight.
“I’d rather be broke and homeless than work for you.
I got a full ride on my own. I’ll get a job like the rest of the world does to pay for everything else.
I don’t want shit from you or anything to do with Deacon Financial. ”
Mom finally joins the conversation and proves to be as helpful as ever as she slurs her words. “Payne, enough with the nonsense. You can’t make life decisions based on a high school girlfriend. As if Ruby will go to college anyway. We all know she won’t.”
Dad twists my collar. I feel the pinch tightening at my neck. “I was right, it is all about her. You sampled the pussy, but it’s time to move on. Dump her. She’s trash and comes from a trash family.”
It doesn’t matter how much I try to keep my cool just to spite him, I can’t when it comes to Ruby. I’m still fisting the fork. I bring it up and put it to the side of his neck.
My mother panics. “Payne!”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Dad’s eyes flare. I should’ve had this conversation after he’s downed a quarter of a handle.
I take the fork and twist the prongs on his skin.
“I don’t want her name on your lips ever again.
She’s none of your business. It’s my life.
I’m going to State followed by law school, and then I’m going to marry Ruby Sinclair.
So fuck you, Dad, and fuck your precious company.
I want nothing to do with you or your money. ”
He grips me harder before giving me a shove.
I fly back, my foot catches on the rug, and I land on my ass.
Dad stalks toward me and talks with his index finger pointed my way.
“You’re going to Harvard and getting a degree in finance.
The Sinclair girl will be out of the picture one way or another.
You’re a fucking kid and don’t know what you want let alone what you need. ”
I stand and get back in his face. We’re nose-to-nose.
I’m not backing down. Not about college and never about Ruby.
“You think I want to be like you? A functioning alcoholic who buys his way out of one DUI after another? A husband who is just fine keeping his wife at home in a constant state of drunk so she won’t give a shit when he cheats on her for years on end? ”
Mom chokes back a sob, but I don’t look away from the man I hate more than anything.
Dad puts his finger in my chest and lowers his voice. “Watch yourself, Payne. You still live under this roof. I can and will control you.”
I huff one non-humorous laugh. “You don’t even bother denying it. How sad is that for Mom?”
A vein appears at his temple. “I’ll make your life fucking miserable.”
“Yeah, because you’re a real peach right now.” I smile. “Hit me. You know you want to.”
Mom’s voice is high enough to rock the chandelier. “Owen, no!”
Dad hesitates.
“Do it.” I egg him on. He hasn’t hit me in eleven months, one week, and two days.
Yeah, I keep track. I always have. “It’s been a minute, huh?
Are you afraid I’ll hit you back? Hell, you’re probably pissed that I refuse to.
I’ll never—fucking ever—give you that satisfaction.
Being not like you is my only goal in life. ”
That does it.
He loses it.
Mom screams.
And the counter flips back to zero when his fist connects with my face. Even I’m surprised—he never goes for the face. Unlike his string of DUIs in the city that keep getting swept under the rug, the last thing he wants to do is air our filthy laundry to the world.
I barely right myself from the blow. My hand comes to my temple where his fist connected with my eye. It’s an agony I’m too familiar with. It’s different than anything I’ve ever gotten in football. When a hit comes from a parent, it touches a place inside that isn’t tangible.
But this time, the proof won’t be hidden on my ribs or my back. Or my legs.
I pull my hand back when I feel warm liquid. A cut under my eye.
“You’re bleeding!” Mom cries and tries to rush to me, but I put a hand up to stop her. “You’ll need stitches. You can’t have a scar on your face.”
Dad stands there and looks like he wants to do it again. And again and again and again.
I lower my voice and make a promise I intend to keep. “I’ll get you. I swear on it. I don’t know when or how, but I will. When I do, it’ll hurt a million times more than any bruise or cut you’ve given me.”
“You don’t have it in you.” He finally takes a step back, shakes his head, and throws my mother a disgusted look. “Clean this shit up.”
He turns and stalks out of the dining room.
Mom falls to her chair, cradles her face in her hands, and sobs.
I grab a cloth napkin and press it to the cut under my eye. “Why do you stay with him?”
Her head pops up, and she explodes. “What do you expect me to do? Where would I go?”
I look around at the ridiculous room that we’ve eaten so many tense family dinners in. I’ve tried to block them out. “This is no prize. No one would choose this. When I graduate, I’m out of here. And I’m never coming back.”
I start to leave, but Mom calls for me. “Where are you going looking like that? People will ask what happened. You can never tell anyone your father did that.”
“I’m not hiding shit. And if you don’t know where I’m going, then you really haven’t paid attention to anything.”
She doesn’t try to stop me. I’d say she’s too busy worrying what the rest of the world will think, but I bet she’s ready for me to leave so she can pour herself something stronger.
This fucking house. It’s nothing but a smokescreen for the shitshow life of the Deacons. I hate it more than anything.
I’ll do what I always do, sneak into Ruby’s room and stay with her. It’s the only place on earth I want to be.