Chapter 18
Briggs
My life is going from bad to worse, and all I see is a black hole leading to the end. The past few weeks, I was starting to feel hopeful, because of Ella. She didn’t even know what was going on, but she made me believe I could get through this.
Now she knows the truth, and I hate her for that.
She was never supposed to see what she saw.
She was never supposed to know. Nobody was supposed to know.
As much as I hated keeping this secret, I couldn’t tell anyone.
I didn’t want anyone knowing what a fucking coward I am, letting my father control me and beat me, and not doing anything about it.
I keep telling myself it’s part of my plan and that I’m not fighting back because he’ll take away what I need to escape this hell.
But that’s only part of it. The other part is something I don’t want to admit, even to myself.
I’m afraid. I’m fucking afraid of my own father.
And now Ella knows that. She saw it with her own eyes.
She knows I’m a fucking coward. I can’t even look at her.
I don’t want to see the pity on her face, looking at me like she feels sorry for me.
I hate that shit. I don’t need her feeling sorry for me.
What happens to me is none of her fucking business.
But she won’t let it go. All last week, she kept pushing me to tell her shit. She wants to fix this, but it can’t be fixed. Why can’t she just stay out of my fucking life? Why did she have to walk into my house at the very moment my dad punched me?
We were having a fight. That’s why he did it.
The fight wasn’t about Ella, or me not being valedictorian.
It was about something that happened at the office.
I was going over some files on my dad’s laptop and had a question about something I didn’t understand.
I asked him about it, and he blew up at me.
He ripped the laptop from my hand and threw it across the room.
He starting yelling at me, threatening me if I told anyone what was in those files.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
The files were just investment spreadsheets.
They didn’t seem any different than ones I’d seen before.
Why that would set him off like that makes no fucking sense. I still can’t figure it out.
We left the office, and my dad yelled at me the whole way home. When we got inside, he punched me in the face and shoved me against the wall. I didn’t think Ella would still be there. I told her she could only use the pool for an hour. She should’ve been gone when my dad and I got home.
I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw my father attacking me. I was no longer the big, strong, powerful athlete she knew from school. I was someone who was weak, pitiful, pathetic.
That was the end for us. The moment she gave me that look, it was over.
I can’t be with someone who looks at me that way, like I’m a coward who can’t stand up to my own father.
Ella’s seen me beat up people at school.
She’s seen me take down guys on the rugby field.
But I let my own father, an old man, punch me in the gut while I did nothing.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the gym bag so hard the skin on my knuckles cracks and burns.
I punch it again and again and again, feeling the sting on my knuckles each time, and wanting more of it.
I deserve the pain. I deserve it for being such a fucking coward, and for hurting Ella.
I keep hurting her, and I fucking hate myself for it.
The door swings open, flooding the room with light.
I’m in the home gym that I never use because I hate being in this house.
I always use the gym at school or the one I belong to in town.
I’m only in here now because I needed to punch something.
I left the lights off, wanting to be bathed in darkness to match how I’m feeling right now.
“I thought I heard you in here,” my father says, turning on the lights as he stands by the door. “Why did you have the lights off?”
“I wanted it dark,” I say, punching the bag again.
“Go clean yourself up,” he scolds. “You’re getting blood all over the floor.”
“Never bothered you before,” I mutter, thinking of all the times he hit me so hard I bled on the shiny wood floor.
“What was that?” he asks, his voice laced with anger.
Maybe I should keep provoking him. Maybe if I make him angry enough, he’ll hit me so hard he’ll end this for good and put me out of my misery.
“I said it never bothered you before.” I turn away from the bag to face him. He’s still a safe distance away, but he could charge at me at any moment. “Blood on the floor. From you beating the shit out of me.” I look him in the eye as I say it.
He tilts his head, seeming confused by my words. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I’m not sure how else you’d describe this.” I yank up my shirt, showing him the dark blue and black bruise covering my abs.
He doesn’t even glance at it. “It’s called discipline. When you’re a parent, you’ll understand. Children need to be taught who’s in charge.”
Holy shit. Those are almost the exact words I use to explain why I beat up and bully people at school, except instead of children I say people.
People at school need to be taught who’s in charge.
I say that to myself when I feel even the slightest regret for hitting someone, or threatening them.
It relieves my guilt, and makes me feel better, and stronger, like I’m the one with the power.
I’m just like my father. How did I not realize that until now? I even use the same words as him.
If I’m turning into my father, I don’t want to go on. I’d rather end it, right here, right now, than live another day in his footsteps.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going out for drinks with some associates,” he says. “I hope by now you know this, but if not, I will remind you that you are not to have guests over.”
I keep quiet as I try to think of another way to provoke him. I thought calling him on his abuse would do it, but it didn’t.
“Briggs, did you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
He turns to leave.
“I knew it was her,” I say.
He turns back. “Who? What are you referring to?”
“Valedictorian. I knew it was Ella.”
He smirks. “Of course you did. You’re sleeping with her.”
He knew? How did he know? I keep telling him how much I hate her. Was it that obvious I was lying?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
“Would it have made a difference?” He walks over to me.
“I can’t watch you every second of the day, Briggs.
I know you’re doing things I don’t approve of.
You’re young and impulsive. You do what feels right in the moment.
I was the same way at your age. Thankfully, my father was strict with me, as I am with you, and eventually made me see my errors in judgment.
” He lifts his hand, running his cold fingers over the bruise on my neck.
“It’s difficult for a father to have to take such measures to get the desired results, but trust me, son, you’ll thank me someday.
” His hand grips my neck, so hard I’m struggling to breathe.
“As for the Quinn girl,” he says with a smirk, “your punishment for not telling me she’s valedictorian will not leave bruises behind. ”
“What does that mean?” I say, choking on the words as he keeps hold of my neck.
He leans down to me. “She’s mine, Briggs. I will see that she’s punished for taking what was yours. And any pain you feel because of it will be your punishment.” He lets go of me and steps back, that smirk still on his face.
“Dad, no! Leave her alone! She didn’t do anything! Just leave her alone!”
He laughs a little, then turns and leaves.
Shit! What do I do? I have to stop whatever he’s planning, but if I don’t know what that is, how do I stop it?
My phone rings. It’s Parker. He’s going to ask me for the millionth time to go to the party tonight.
It’s Saturday, which means it’s time to put on that famous Briggs smile and pretend everything’s great for the most popular guy in school.
All the alcohol in the world couldn’t help me pull that off, not tonight, not when I’m feeling like this.
I hate myself for what I’ve done to Ella.
I’ve treated her like shit all week at school, and now my dad’s planning to destroy her.
I thought I could protect her. When he threatened to do something before, I really thought I could protect her, but now I don’t think I can.
I’ve considered telling her what’s going on, but what’s the point? She can’t do anything about it.
The phone continues to ring, so I finally just answer it. “I’m not going to the fucking party.”
“Neither am I,” Parker says. “Jason’s parents found out and ended it before it even started, so Finn and I are just going to hang out here.”
“Yeah? So why are you calling?”
“Coach wants to know what’s going on with you. I didn’t know what to say.”
“When was he asking you this?”
“I saw him at the gas station like a half hour ago. He said he’s worried about you because you haven’t been paying attention in practice and you played like shit at last night’s game.”
“He said I played like shit?”
I’m not surprised. I did play like shit. It was because I couldn’t stop thinking about Ella, and because I’m still in so much pain from my father hitting me that even a handful of painkillers couldn’t help.
“He didn’t say shit but that’s what he meant.”
“So what’d you tell him?”
“I said you’re tired from trying to keep up with your classes.”
“Did he buy it?”
“He didn’t really say. He’ll probably talk to you Monday. Anyway, get your ass over here. We’ll have a guys’ night.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Briggs, c’mon. This could be the last time we get to do this before . . . you know.”
“Before the cops take us to jail? Funny how you keep forgetting this wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you and Finn.”