“Uncle Jerry?” Ash blinks. “In California?”
I nod.
“And afterward? Why didn’t you come back? What were you waiting for?”
“It was safer for you if I stayed away,” I say, the words like cinders in my mouth. “Dad didn’t want me around.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not his son.”
“Yeah, right. Did he have proof?”
“He did a cheek swipe and checked the DNA. Then Mom confessed it in front of him, his buddy and me. It’s true.”
Ash winces. “That’s fucked up.”
Everything’s fucked up.
“What about Mom’s funeral? Where were you?”
“I didn’t know she died until months later.” That still hurts.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because Uncle Jer
ry was fucking high most of the time!” I realize I’ve raised my voice and force a long breath into my lungs. It’s hard. They feel compressed, not letting enough air in. “Self-medication, he called it. He had a friend who’s a doctor, and he provided him with all sorts of relaxants and other stuff. He was addicted to them.”
As was I.
“Mom sent you to stay with an addict?” Ash’s voice is incredulous.
Yeah. I lick my lips. My mouth’s bone dry. “I don’t think she knew. Jerry was Dad’s cousin, not brother. She didn’t have much contact with him.”
Ash grinds his jaw, makes as if to turn away. He’s obviously not happy with this conversation. “It makes no difference, Tyler. I know Dad beat you. Believe me, I know what that’s like. Still shouldn’t have walked out on us.”
“He didn’t just beat me,” I hear myself say as if from a distance. These are things I’ve never told a single soul. Jerry took me to no therapists. He barely knew what was wrong with me. “When he got proof I wasn’t his son, Dad went crazy. He tried to carve me up.”
“So you say. Why the hell didn’t you go to the cops?” Ash asks. “Why didn’t Mom go? Why the fuck should I believe a word you’re saying?”
“Dad had buddies in the underground fighting mafia. He swore he’d set them on me—and even on you and Mom—if I breathed a word of what he did to me to anyone. For all I know, he kept tabs on me in case I talked until he died.”
“Whatever.” Ash shakes his head.
I have to make him understand.
“Listen. He caught me by surprise. Punched my lights out, tied me up and gagged me. When I woke up, I found out he’d done a DNA test. He kept me tied for two days. He had…” The words stick in my mouth, don’t want to come. “He had an old boxing buddy with him, and they were both drunk as fuck. They kicked me until they broke my ribs. Then Dad carved my chest with his bowie knife and sliced me open. He said his real son wouldn’t flinch at the pain.”
Ash’s face pales. “No.”
“He almost killed me. I don’t think he’d have stopped if Mom hadn’t come down to investigate.”
“Down? Down where?”
“The basement.”
“He kept you in the basement. And I didn’t notice?” Red spots appear on Ash’s cheekbones. His eyes glitter.