Not My Hero
I let out a sigh. “Romance it is.” I place a glass on the counter near Mom and give her a grateful smile. She was really fantastic today. “Thank you for today.”
Mom taps her cheek with her pointer finger, and after I give her a kiss, she says, “You can start the movie. I’ll watch from here.”
“You sure? We can wait.”
She gestures toward Brie with her eyes. “Go cuddle her. I know you’re dying to.”
Shaking my head, I let out a chuckle as I carry the other two glasses to the living room. I set them down on the coffee table, and reaching for the remote, I turn on the TV.
When I press play, Brie snuggles up to my side, and I place my arm around her shoulders. After a couple of minutes, she murmurs, “Today was so different from what I expected.”
“It’s because you were prepared for the worse.”
“True.”
As I watch the girl on the screen walk to her class, I mention, “Enjoy tonight because tomorrow we have a lot of school work to catch up on.”
“Ugh, did you have to remind me?” Brie complains.
Chuckling, I kiss her temple. Brie lifts her head and first glances at the kitchen before she presses a quick kiss to my lips.It took us three days to catch up with the work we missed, but as we sit down for dinner, I feel better knowing it’s done.
I made us chicken and salad tonight because Mom’s been cooking for the past week.
Just as Brie pops a piece of meat in her mouth, there’s a knock at the door.
Frowning, I get up. “I’ll get it.”
“Probably the wrong house,” Mom mumbles around a piece of tomato.
I open the door, and instantly the blood drains from my face.
“Hello, son. Aren’t you going to let me in?”
I hear a chair scrape over the tiles from the kitchen, and glancing toward the sound, I see Mom heading toward us, and I snap. “Stay with Brie!”
Shoving my father backward, I step out onto the porch and shut the front door behind me. When my eyes focus on his face, a rage, unlike anything I’ve felt before, sets fire to the blood rushing through my veins. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He gives me a condescending smirk. “I’m here to bring my wife and son back home.”
“Like hell you are,” I growl, fisting my hands at my sides. “Get off our property.”
He lets out an arrogant chuckle. “My property. I’m paying for this house.” He tries to step by me. “Let’s talk inside.”
“No!” I shove him back again. “You’re not setting foot inside this house. Leave. It’s my last warning.”
Anger begins to simmer in his eyes. “And then? What? Have you grown a set the past four months?” He takes a threatening step closer to me. “Mind if I check?”
What the fuck?
The same old crazy look settles over his face when he sees my reaction. “Yeah, just like I thought. Once a pussy, always a pussy. Get out of my way before I beat your ass.”
That’s all it takes for rage to consume me, and I lunge forward. My fist slams into this jaw, and as he staggers backward, I follow.
“Colton! Stop!” I hear Mom scream, but ignoring her, I begin to deliver one punch after the other.
For Brady. For Mom. For myself.
Years of anger pour out of me as I watch blood flow from my father’s nose, and I grind the words out through clenched teeth, “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
He begins to drag himself away from me, and holding up a hand, he begs, “Stop. Please. Stop.”
All the fight drains from me as I stare down at the pathetic mess on the ground. “Funny how you never cared when we begged you to stop.”
“You broke my nose,” he complains, covering his face with a trembling hand.
“Yeah? You broke my ribs.” Taking a step closer to him, I snap, “Do you really want to compare injuries? Because then, I better start beating your sorry ass again.”
My father climbs to his feet, and his eyes dart to Mom. “Are you just going to stand there and do nothing?”
Mom moves to my side. “I think Colton is handling this well.”
He lets out a frustrated huff. “Always hiding behind him. Some fucking mother you are.”
Stepping in front of Mom, I glare darkly at him. “Leave before I keep my promise and put you in the ICU.”
Disgust ripples over his bloody face. “That’s it. I’m cutting you both off. You’re dead to me, just like Brady.”
Mom grabs hold of my arm when I want to dart forward. “Let him leave.”
He shakes his head at us one last time, and with a careless wave that shows he's done with us, he walks to his car.
I wait until his car disappears from sight before I turn to Mom. “Are you okay?”