Page 109 of Resist

“In there or I kill her,” Colin said, pointing the gun toward my front sitting room. He fisted a handful of my hair and pulled, dragging me along the ground. “Get up.”

My legs scuttled as I tried desperately to stand and ease the burning yank of my scalp before he tossed me like trash onto the rug in the centre of the room. For a second, I was thankful for the plush pile I’d landed on but then scrambled to my feet and shoved Jason behind me.

“Please, Colin. Just leave him out of this.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because whatever this is, it’s between me and you.”

Jason stepped out from behind me. “Dad, just put down the gun and we’ll talk.”

Colin scratched his head with the butt of the gun and paced in a circle. “Now you want to talk?”

“I do.”

He pointed the gun at our son. “You haven’t talked to me in over two years.”

I leapt in front of Jason, my arms spread wide. “I … I haven’t let him.”

“Don’t fucking lie. He doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“I do, Dad. Of course I do.”

Something dark and evil popped in Colin’s eyes and it near made me collapse. “All you’ve ever been is a mummy’s boy, a pathetic little crying mummy’s boy. Weak. Spineless.”

From out the corner of my eye, I thought I saw movement in the kitchen through the door to my left, but I quickly refocussed on Colin when he shook the gun while continuing to berate our son.

“I tried to teach you how to be a man. Tried to show you how to run a house and keep everything the way it should be. But all you ever did was hide and cry like the fucking wimp you are. You’re no son of mine.”

Jason’s fist clenched and my heart stopped beating. “Don’t,” I whispered, knowing he wanted to lash out. “Please.”

“Look at you …” Colin continued, drawing the gun up and down our bodies. “…Hiding behind your whore of a mother.”

Jason stepped out from behind me. “SHE’S NOT A WHORE.”

“What did you just say?” Colin put the hand holding the gun to his ear.

“I said she’s not a whore,” Jason hissed.

“Is that right?” He laughed, his chuckle, sinister. “Has Mummy told you about the boy she’s fucking? The one who’s your age?” A villainous sneer slid across his face.

Jason lifted his chin. “Yes. And that’s none of your fucking business.”

My eyes widened, and my chest drew painfully tight. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move.

“And you want to know something else, Dad,” Jason continued, the word ‘dad’ spoken as if it were poison. “He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Colin clicked his neck then pointed the gun at Jason again, and in a blur of movement and a noise so eerily frightening, Lucas sprung out from the kitchen and dove in front of Jason just as Colin fired.

All three of us plummeted to the ground, my head hitting the coffee table, the blow hard and disorientating. My vision blurred, but through the fog I saw Colin turn and flee the house, which was when I noticed blood covering my hands and blouse, my white pants stained red. I screamed and crawled to Lucas and Jason, Lucas’s giant body slumped over my son’s.

“JASON! LUCAS!”

“MUM! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. But you—”

Jason slowly sat up, and Lucas groaned with the movement. “He’s been hit. Lucas has been shot.”