Prologue
Logan
I catch my father’s fist before it hits my mom. He’s always been a violent, angry drunk, but he’s never been physically abusive. Not with her, anyway. His tough love with me and my younger brothers Dylan and Austin was apparently meant to make us men; it’d separate us from the boys.
I have no fucking clue how this bastard and my beautiful Mom managed to have three kids.
Don’t get me wrong, Dad was a looker in heyday, and Mom is pretty—feisty but with a soft side, but my father has never been a man to look up to.
He gave up providing for us years ago, preferring to drink himself into oblivion while my mom wrecked three jobs.
I’ve been teaching my brothers all the things that he’s supposed to; tolerance, compassion, showing them love and encouragement, and yeah, a little self defence because kids can be assholes.
Dylan is the middle brother and he’s always been the protector.
He never has much to say, because he usually lets his fists do the talking, especially when it comes to Austin.
As much as I’ve drilled into him that there’s a time and a place for fist throwing, he just does his own thing.
The playground can be a den of vipers, so I can’t say he’s completely in the wrong, he just hates injustice, even at the ripe age of thirteen.
In a way, I’m like their surrogate father, but I’m not exactly qualified for the job.
I keep them inline to help Mom out. The last thing she needs to be doing is stressing over her youngest boys.
I help out with the bills, making sure my dad gets no cash because he’ll just spend it on booze. But tonight? Tonight he drew a line.
He swivels to look at me as I fold my palm around his fist. I can take him, even at my age.
Dad is big, but I’m bigger, and solid. I’ve been working out in the gym the last few years, but I’ve always been stocky.
Like him. That is the only comparison I have to him, other than that, we’re nothing alike.
“Don’t do it,” my voice is a low growl. “Don’t you ever touch her you fucking piece of shit.”
He shoves me off, but I don’t let go. I glance at my mom and she’s crying, wincing in fear as the blow she was expecting never comes.
I’ve never seen my dad hit her, but now I’m wondering what goes on behind closed doors.
I can’t be here all the time, and the boys tell me when he’s having a really bad day.
“Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?” he yells. I can smell the alcohol on him. He reeks.
I shove him and his back hits the wall. “Your son. Keep your hands off her.”
“Or you’ll what?”
“I’ll end you.”
He sneers. “She’s a whore.”
My nostrils flair. And here we go with the verbal abuse. “The fuck did you just say?”
“Bill, don’t, please,” Mom tries to interject, but his focus is on me.
“I said she’s a whore.”
I push him back again, harder this time.
I try to remember everything I taught Dylan and Austin.
Patience. Not opening your mouth when the time doesn’t call for it.
The logistics of a fight; are they bigger than you?
If so, what’s their weak point, and are you quicker?
But that all flies out the window because my mom may not be perfect, but she loves us.
She’s never raised a hand to us in her life, she never would.
Mom is an angel, and angels must be protected.
I bring my arm back to my ear, and just as I sock Dad in the face, Mom screams. My dad yelps, his hands flying to his face.
“Momma?” Austin yells from the other room.
Oh, my brothers are used to the fights and screaming matches, but this is different. I also told them both to go up to their rooms until I came to get them, but I feel Dylan’s presence behind me before he even speaks. He has that way about him.
“Logan?” Dylan stammers.
“Go back to your room!” I tell him as my dad tries to stop the bleeding of his nose.
He’s a weak motherfucker. One fucking punch and he’s almost done. So pathetic.
“You fucking broke my nose!” he screams, lunging for me.
I’m faster, dodging out of the way as he crashes into the counter. When he tries to grab Dylan, I yank him back by the scruff of his shirt, holding him in a headlock.
“Now, Daddy dearest, you’re gonna apologize, and then you’re gonna get the fuck outta here and you’re never coming back.”
This hasn’t just been coming for a while, it’s long overdue.
“Y-you can’t,” he sputters.
“Yes, I can. I’ve been the man of the house for longer than I care to remember.
I was sixteen when I started covering for your ass.
I’ve worked after school to help Mom pay for food, I’ve given up my childhood so I can become an adult because you won’t act like one, and you’ve had more than enough chances.
” I turn to my mom. “Has he hit you in private?”
She opens her mouth but no sound comes out. That’s all the confirmation I need.
I let him breathe for a second, but keep my grip tight. “Leave us alone. Go back under that rock you crawled out of and don’t ever come back. If you do, I’ll tell the cops what I know.”
“Logan,” Mom says. “Let him go.”
I glance up at her. She has no clue that my dad does dirty deals that he thinks nobody knows about.
And what does he do with all that dirty money?
He buys alcohol and drugs. Meanwhile, my mother has to try and stretch potatoes and cabbage five ways and meat is a luxury.
I’ve seen her go without food to feed my brothers and I’m sick of it.
She can’t stand up to him so I’m going to.
“L-let me go,” he garbles.
“Not until you say sorry.”
“I-I’m—”
“Say it or I’ll fucking kill you,” I grit, my arm tightening once more.
“Logan? Are you killing Dad?” Austin asks, his tone surprisingly calm.
“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll say it, won’t you, asshole?”
“S-sorry,” he says in between gasping for breath as I free his throat for a second. “But she’s my wif—”
“She’s not your anything anymore. Get your shit and fuck off!”
“Where am I gonna go?” Jesus Christ, he really is pathetic.
Dad has family, unlike all of us. My mom’s sister lives in Detroit, so maybe we’ll go there. I don’t care, but we can’t stay here. The memories are too bad. For now, though, he has to be the one to leave. I’ll be damned if we’re gonna be the ones on the street.
“Logan, that’s enough, he can’t breathe!” Mom folds her arms over her chest. She doesn’t even try to pull him free. I know that vacant look in her eyes so that’s why I’m making this easier for her.
“Let’s hope for your sake you get as far away from here as possible,” I mutter in his ear. “And if you ever hit my mom again, I will find you and I’ll bury you alive, old man.” I shove him off and he stumbles, his bloodied hands gripping the sink.
I swear to fucking god if he even looks at her, I’ll take his head clean off.
Austin runs to mom, always the momma’s boy. Being the youngest, he’s still a kid. He shouldn’t be subjected to any of this, neither should Dylan.
Dad stumbles away, muttering because he’s intoxicated.
“I’ll go help him pack,” I say as Mom and Austin hug.
“Need a hand?” Dylan asks, his face stoic. It haunts me because he’s seen more than he should have in his short life thus far. It’s not fucking fair.
I shake my head. “Stay here and look after Mom and Aust.”
“Logan,” Mom says. For a beat I think she’s going to tell me to stop. That she’ll go talk him down. She’ll get him to come around and see sense. He’s hurting because of the rough life he’s lived. He didn’t mean it. All the things I’ve heard countless times because she loves him. “Thank you.”
I nod. “It’s time we let him go. If you take him back, I’m taking the boys and you’ll never see them again.”
Her eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t do that… Logan? You can’t take my boys!”
I forget to remind her I was a boy not so long ago. I was the kid, too, but it isn’t her fault. She’s a product of a family who never gave a shit about her. This is what she knows.
“I would,” I say. “They’ve seen the worst of the worst, and been through enough, so have you.
I’m not playing around. I love you, Mom, but it’s time.
You’re so much better than all of this. He never deserved you, and the boys deserve stability and grounding, not more violence and arbitration in their lives.
You’re a good Mom, but this isn’t right.
We can’t continue to live like this. I won’t. ”
Tears well in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I-I loved him.”
Loved. Past tense.
I step over to her, brushing the hair back off her face and tucking it behind her ear. “He’ll never change, you know this.”
“Is Dad really g-going?” Austin looks up at me, his eyes watery. He still feels everything the hardest, and I hate it. I wish I could shield him from it all.
“Yes,” I say. “He’s not going to hurt any of us anymore, okay?”
Austin nods, his arms tightening around my mom.
“Dylan, come here,” she says.
Dylan does as he’s told. He’s five years younger than me, and Austin seven, but I know Dylan they’re both going to follow suit in the Dawson family genetics because Dylan is already naturally solid, and tall.
He’ll be alright because he’s got a good head on his shoulders.
They both do. But I don’t want a life for them filled with hatred, abuse and criminal activity. I want more for them.
She pulls him into a hug and while he’s at that age where that isn’t cool, we’re behind closed doors so he lets her. “I have my boys,” she says, tears falling down her face. “That’s all I need.”
I nod. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise. I’ll get another job, whatever it takes.”
This only makes Mom cry harder, than I wrap my arms around her, and my brothers too. “Shhh, it’s gonna be okay,” I soothe. “We’ll get through it, just like we did everything else.”
“My boys,” she hums. “All I need is my boys.”