“I don't want to—”
“I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT!” he screamed. I jumped back as his fist collided with the wall and left a gaping hole in the plaster. “No piece of pussy is going to ruin your chances, you hear me? This ends now! Call her now!”
With my heart pounding in my chest and the heat of rage climbing up my face, I took a single step forward and glared at him.
“No!” I yelled back.
My dad's face went blank, and when he spoke, he was far too calm.
“Come in here,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
He turned on his heel and went into the kitchen. I followed, reluctantly.
The kitchen table was littered with photographs.
Oh fuck.
I turned my head away immediately. My mind had already conjured up what those images might have entailed, and I didn't need the constant reminder of what had happened to her. Even though I knew it was too late to expunge my brain, I wasn't going to look any more.
“I'll fucking post them all over town,” he said, and he handed me the phone. “Call her. Now.”
Shakespeare said, “So quick bright things come to confusion.” Somehow, I couldn't have agreed more.
Now it was over.
CHAPTER 22
PENALTY
I rolled onto my side and wrapped my arms around my stomach. I would rather have taken a ball from a pro striker at ten feet away right to my gut than to have to relive that conversation again.
But I would relive it.
Over and over again.
Ring…
“Hey.”
“Hey, Thomas! What’s up?”
My Dad crossed his arms and stared at me. I tried to turn away from him a little, giving myself the lame illusion of privacy.
“Nothing. Just needed to talk to ya.” I was suddenly glad I was wearing my practice shirt with my number on it. The costume fit, at least. I took a deep breath, stood up straight, and squared my shoulders. “We’re done.”
“Done with what?”
Shit.
“Us, babe,” I told her. “You and me. Not working out. Tried this boyfriend shit, and this just isn’t working for me.”
Better this way…at least I hadn’t fucked her.
He wouldn’t hurt her if I did what he said. I glanced up at him, and he was smirking.
“Thomas…what do you mean?” Her voice was so soft, and I felt my gut wrench.
“It should be pretty fucking obvious,” I snapped at her.