Page 80 of Redd

Shaking my head, I looked down at the floor and rifled through my back pocket. “Here, pay the electric.”

“Where did you get this?”

“I. . . I got a job.” Stumbling as I spoke, I rubbed the back of my neck. I had this whole story planned out about how I got the cash, but as she peered at me with her—'You're full of shit'glare, I forgot everything.

Veering her stare, her eyes dug into my heart and pinched the nerve. I hated lying to her, but if I had told her how I had gotten the money, I knew she wouldn't take it.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Pursing her lips, she counted the bills, giving me a suspicious side-eye. She knew I wasn't being honest, she always knew. But this time, she didn't question me.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.” Laying the bill out on her bed, she started to press her fingers over the thick crinkles attempting to fix it. “This helps, I'm proud of you.” Smiling, she gathered the money and her purse, tucking the small bundle inside. “I'm going to go pay this now.”

She's worn down. This is the break she needed.

Nodding, I smiled. “There'll be more soon. I'm going to start helping out around here. I'm old enough now, I should do that.”

Her lip twitched into a tight smirk, eyes sparkling with a luminous glow. She really was proud of me. Seeing that look on her face made me happy. My mother deserved to be happy, lord knows my father wasn't doing anything to help her.

That man only knew how to hurt her—to hurt us.

But I was a man, I could take it. My mother and Vicki, they didn't deserve what he gave them. Luckily, Vicki was still small enough that she only caught a smack once in awhile. That would change, there was no doubt in my mind about that.

I was almost nine before he struck me really hard for the first time. Said he was making a man out of me, that I had to learn how to respect him the way it should be.

Bastard.

My mother and I did this dance for a year and a half. I would bring her money, she would use it to pay for food, utilities, clothing for me and my sister. We didn't tell my dad.

We lived on egg shells around him. Never knowing what would set him off, when the next fight would be. Booze and brandy, that was all he cared about anyway.

Most days we just prayed he would pass out and sleep through the night. Sometimes we got lucky, other times we didn't.

My new job was a blessing and a curse. I would be out late, not coming in till one or two in the morning. If it was a bad night and I wasn't there, I always felt guilty. I was able to avoid his wrath, but my mother wasn't.

When I turned seventeen, something inside me changed. I wasn't afraid to take his outbursts anymore. I started stepping in, running my mouth so he would focus on me and leave the other two alone.

I wanted to be there to protect them any way I could. It just didn't always work out.

“How the fuck did you pay for this?!” I heard him snap as I approached the front door. Checking my watch, it was almost two-thirty in the morning. “Where the hell did you get the money?!”

Fuck, I hate him.

Fumbling with my keys, I plugged the right one into the door and quietly opened it. Voices boomed through the house, her screaming at him, him screaming at her.

Glancing at the table, a small cake was at my seat. The number eighteen was melted and warped, wax strands trickled down the sides, seeping onto the wood top. A crushed present was on the floor, ripped open and mangled.

Fuck. . .

Today was my birthday.

“What the fuck did he do?!” he yelled. A loud bang rattled the walls, and I knew he had punched clear through one of them. “Tell me how long you knew!”

“Daniel, stop. You need to calm down.” My mother's voice was soft and quiet, doing her best not to yell. “Vicki is sleeping, please, you're going to wake her up.”

“Do you think I really care?”