For the first time, I don’t care. My breath hits hard, and my nose flares to keep up with my intake of oxygen.
“Answer me, you sorry son of a bitch!” He puts the sole of his boot to my chest and shoves. “Weak, just like your mother.”
My body lists, but I’m numb to his abuse. I tilt my chin up and lock eyes with him, glaring so hard my eyes burn. “She’s strong enough to put up with your shit.”
He smiles and laughs, but nothing about his expression says he thinks it’s funny. “Little momma’s boy. Still holding on to that woman’s apron strings. Pathetic.”
Those words, like lighter fluid to my resentment, kindle the flames into a raging inferno. My teeth grind, and fury shreds through me.
My dad waves me off with a flick of his wrist. “Get him out of my face.”
“Yes, sir,” his minions say in unison, taking orders from the colonel like the good little disciples that they are.
They’d probably slit their own throats if the order was given.
That will never be me.
I’m pulled to my feet by my biceps and walked to the door. My mom hurries out of the way to let us pass. She’s clutching her robe to her neck, her usual pretty face splotchy and wet with tears. Her light brown hair looks as if she’s been running her hands through it for hours. My chest clenches at the pain I see in her eyes.
I lean back. “Hold on.”
They ignore me and continue to move me through the house.
“I just want to say goodbye.” I dig my bare feet into the carpet.
“Duke?” Her soft-spoken calling of my dad’s name brings us to a stop.
The asshole rolls his eyes, but he waves off his men. “Stand down.”
She takes a few steps toward me but stops just shy of arm’s length. “Blake…” Her chin quivers, and tears shine in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Shame twists in my gut. “It’s okay, Mom.” I should have never involved her in my sneaking around. “Don’t cry. I’ll be all right.”
She moves close enough to cup my cheek. She no longer hugs me because my dad said it makes us weak. “Be strong, Blake.”
No I love you, but instead, be strong.
It’s harsh, but this is what we’ve come to. In order to thrive in this family, we need to conform. And strength trumps emotion.
I work my mouth into a smile. “Always.”
My dad must have given the nod, since a hand clinches my elbow. I say goodbye to my mom then allow myself to be guided through the house. I don’t see my brother anywhere, but chances are he’s been ordered to stay behind a closed door. He’s much better at obeying than I am.
I’m push-walked out the front door. It’s a cool night. The wet ocean air whips and curls around my face, and I take my final breaths of it, knowing that I’ll be in the desert soon. My dad leads us to the open double doors of a black van. Once there, a hand from behind puts pressure on my head, trying to get me to duck and climb in.
I force my spine straight so they can’t fold me into the van. “Sir, one thing before I go?”
My dad looks down at me through narrowed eyes. “What is it? You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”
I step close, grateful that my last growth spurt put me just a few inches shorter than him. “I just want to say…” With a quick step back for momentum, I slam my forehead into his nose. Stars dance behind my eyes.
He doubles over with a howl, putting his hands to his face. Blood pours through his fingers.
A smile curls my lips. Damn, that felt good. The quick high dissolves as I’m pulled back and shoved face first to the concrete driveway. The rough soles of combat boots press into my back and hold me down, crushing my ribs.
My dad groans and stumbles on his feet. “Hold him up, boys.” His pained grunt makes whatever’s about to happen totally worth it.
I’m hauled up by my T-shirt and shoved forward.
His face is red, colored by fury and blood, and inches from mine. “’Bout time I taught you a lesson.” Standing back, he raises his fist.
Knowing the unavoidable is on its way, I decide to leave him with a parting thought. “Fuck you, Dad.”
Pain explodes in my jaw. The world spins and goes black.
One
Thirteen years later…
Blake
“I’d like to make a toast.” I’m drunk as hell, feeling zero pain. The club’s crowded and humming with energy, just like every other club in town tonight.
It’s New Year’s Eve in Las-motherfucking-Vegas.
I climb my barstool and stagger-stand on the bar. So ready to put this fucked up year behind me, I check the countdown clock—fifty-two minutes. I raise my glass, and the crowd below cheers.
Yeah, bitches. You all love my ass.
“Here’s to a new year. May it be filled with knockout punches in the octagon.” I lock eyes with two chicks at my feet. They’ve been hanging on me all night, rubbing me ready and begging for it. I wink. “And knockout babes in your bed.” I squint into the crowd, looking for the band, and find them huddled next to the stage. “And cheers to my boy, Rex.” Holding my drink high, I motion to his band, Ataxia. “Make rock and roll history, brother.” With one last thrust of my glass into the air, I toss back two fingers of whiskey and savor the burn.
Everyone in the club follows suit, finishing in a symphony of hollered agreement. I hop off the bar and into the tentacle arms of my admirers.
“Great toast, baby,” the platinum-haired beauty to my right says as she rubs her body against mine.
I bend down, sliding my tongue into her eager mouth and grabbing a fistful of her ass. Nothing gets a second girl’s interest like pure, hot, jealousy. And sure ’nuff, her friend presses herself to my side and slides her hand down my stomach to the waistband of my pants.
I’m numb and can’t taste or feel much. But my dick roars to life, searching for somewhere hot and wet. It’s not even midnight yet, and I’m trashed. If I don’t get these girls home and naked soon, I may pass out before getting laid.
“Dude, get a room. Or at least find a dark corner.”
I pull back from my blurry make-out session and focus my drunken gaze on Caleb and the new guy—what’s his name? Caleb invited him out tonight. He moved here from a beach town, and being a transplant, he had nowhere to ring in the New Year. He’s supposed to be the next hot-shit UFL fighter. Looks like a lifeguard from Baywatch to me.
“You assholes jealous?” I tuck a girl under each arm and lean against the bar.
The guys laugh, but I don’t miss the flash of envy in their eyes.
Rex and his drummer, Talon, show up with a few girls in tow. They’re all hot, dressed in barely-there clothes for easy access, and asking all sorts of naughty questions with their eyes.
One of the many things I love about Vegas is that there’s no shortage of women who’re looking for the no-strings kind of hook-ups I’m all about.
Fuck, I love my life.
“Great set, T-Rex,” I say, and mean it.
Ataxia is the perfect combination of old school and melodic punk rock. And Rex, that fucker can write a song.
“Thanks, man.” Rex shifts his gaze around the group. “Where’s Jonah? I thought you said him and Ray were coming by.”
A burst of laughter unexpectedly flies from my lips. “Yeah right. That dude’s been shacked up with his new wife at home since they got back from Bora Bora. I bet they haven’t worn clothes more than a few times since they’ve been married.”
Not that I blame the bastard. Raven’s not only hot, but she’s tough. The shit she went through last fall at the cabin… no typical woman could have done what she did. I’ve never seen anything like it.