Knowing how much he loved her, I couldn’t help but wonder if he saw the monster each time he looked at me. I’d gotten over that as well. Pop never treats me as anything other than a son. In fact, he gets highly offended if anyone even hints that I’m not his, and he’s not the type to blame the child for the actions of the father. At least not in such circumstances.
But putting all that aside, it was when my sisters started becoming young women that the reality of what happened to our mother really hit home. I’d find myself looking at them when I was sixteen and they fourteen and imagining someone hurting them and knew I could kill.
Not that there was ever any doubt where this was going. The first time I saw my mother cry as she told me the truth, the decision had been made. “You two ready? Or you plan on making me late again?” They pouted in unison with their twin crap and stood up from the table. “Ma was right; you two look like clowns.”
“Dad!” They whined and turned to him, their short asses looking like they were about to topple over from the weight of their backpacks.
“Gabriel, stop teasing your sisters.” We each gave a round of goodbye kisses to the parents before heading for the door. Yes, I still kiss my mother and father on the cheek before leaving the house sue me. If I stopped doing that shit, Pop, the tough guy might sulk.
I can’t do anything that would give him any suspicion about what the fuck I’m up to. It’s already going to be hard enough talking my way into a European trip alone sometime this summer without sounding the alarm, so I’ve been keeping my head down, except for this weekend when I lost my shit and pounded that douche canoe’s face in.
My sisters yapped all the way to the schoolyard about their upcoming birthday and the cars their spoilt asses were going to get. I like my Hummer, even though they turn up their noses at it. Pop had found it somewhere in Cali and had it customized to suit his son’s taste since they were no longer on the market after Jeep sued the shit out of them a while back. The twins see it as outdated and somewhat beneath them. That doesn’t stop them from hopping their asses in it every chance they get.
“Ugh, there he goes.” Anna scoffed as we looked out the window at Dale, the asshole who’d been giving her trouble. “You really got him good. Thanks, Gabriel.” Rosa kissed my cheek from the front seat. She’d won that fight today, leaving our sister in the back. I try to stay out of it because anytime I get between these two somehow, the tables are always turned, and I end up being the enemy these two have to fight against.
That sounds harsh, but it’s not like that. We’re as close as three siblings could be, with two of them being damn near the same. I can tell them apart barely, and that’s only because we grew up together, but most people can’t. They use that shit to their advantage every chance they get. “If he fucks with you…”
“I know, I know, I’ll come get you.” Anna kissed my cheek next and jumped down to join her sister.
I watched them go before grabbing my shit and exiting the beast to follow. I’m so over this damn place already. It’s been a while since I haven’t felt like a slab of meat each time I step foot on the grounds. I thought New York City girls were bold, but they ain’t got shit on these small town Lolitas, something else we have technology to thank for. I don’t have time for either; there’s no point. I give myself another five years tops, and that’s pushing it.
"Hey Russo, what's your hurry?" I looked back to see Lance running to catch up to me. We exchanged the latest in handshakes which were a series of slaps and snaps that looked cool as hell to the onlooker but really meant nothing. It’s the shit we share away from prying eyes that counts.
"What's doing, Lancelot? You did your Chemistry homework?"
"You know, no one would believe that you're such a geek. I think they expect me to be the brains in this outfit, not the other way around."
"Whatever clown, did you do it or not? We still have ten minutes before class starts. I can hook it up right quick."
"Thanks, bud, but I did it; my old man helped me out. He’s still griping about that last move you made the last time you two played, by the way. I’ve caught him staring at the board at least three times a day since then.” He shook his head and walked in step beside me.