The Unloved (5 page)

The force of my body met with his and pushed us both back into the wall. I reared my arm back, my hand forming a tight fist, ready to send my father into another world for the first time. Before I could though, his knee connected with my stomach and I doubled over from the pain.

“Thought you could take your old man, huh?” Dad laughed. “Even with all those big muscles you’ve got now you’re still the same little pissant from before.”

My mom’s scream filled my ears and I knew what was coming. I tightened my muscles in anticipation for his next blow because it was all I could do. He’d knocked the wind straight from my lungs. And then I felt it. Something I hadn’t felt in two years, but I had never forgotten. Raw pain.

Dad’s first blow went to the back of my head. I struggled to block him. I struggled to get to my feet. Hell, I even got in a few good licks myself, but it wasn’t enough. Dad still beat me like old times and I hated myself for it. Looked like I
was
still the same little pissant after all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JULIE

Claire, from work, gave me a ride home as usual. I felt like a bum, but she always insisted that she didn’t care, that it gave her a clear conscience knowing she’d given me a ride when it was dark. That way she knew I’d gotten home safe. She was sweet. I was going to miss her in a few weeks when she transferred from the community college to the university and no longer worked at Sweet Tooth with me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said as I slid out of her SUV.

“Not a problem.” Claire smiled.

I closed the door and waved as she backed out of the driveway and drove off. Music found its way to my ears and I glanced across the street to Nick’s house, checking to see if he was still in the garage working out. There was no light on in the garage, but the door was still opened and now there were two cars sitting in the driveway. My heart pounded when I realized who the other one belonged to—Nick’s dad.

A banging came from my left somewhere and I glanced around in the darkness, wondering what it was. A light in the little white shed caught my attention and I realized that was where the music was coming from, too. I was walking across the street and headed straight for it before my mind had decided I was going to.

A candle illuminated the shed and Nick’s silhouette flickered across the walls. When I reached the ajar door, my hand brushed against the peeling green paint and knots began to form in my stomach. How many times had I seen light coming from here at night from my bedroom window and snuck out of the house to find Nick, bloodied and beaten by his father’s fists? Too many to count, that was how many.

“Nick?” I called, wondering what I would say to him this time.

“Jules,” he answered and I opened the door a little more so I could slip inside.

He was sitting with his back propped against the wall, holding an old tennis ball in one hand and a nearly finished bottle of rum in the other. Light flickered across his face and I knew from past experience that the areas shaded darker weren’t shadows. They were bruises. His dad had beaten him. Again.

“What happened?” I asked as I moved to sit beside him just like old times. My body seemed to remember the motions as though from a routine never forgotten. It was my brain though that noticed the differences.

The wall behind us had become narrow over the years, or maybe it was because in two years we ourselves had grown. Our arms brushed against one another and our knees touched. Even through the clothes I was wearing I could feel the fire of his skin. Whether it was from anger still lingering in his system or the alcohol, I wasn’t sure.

“The same shit as always,” he said without looking at me, his words clipped.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I reached over and turned the volume on the radio down so we could talk.

“I thought things would be different this time if he ever came back.” Nick chuckled at his words and turned to face me. “Boy was I fucking wrong.”

I swallowed hard and kept silent, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at me. Emotions swirled in his eyes that I couldn’t name, and then he dropped his gaze back to the wall in front of us and resumed his game of wall ball.

“You should go,” he said.

“What, why?” I asked, unable to keep the hurt that I felt for reasons I couldn’t decide from entering my words.

“Because,” he seethed.

I didn’t argue. I stood up and started toward the dented door. Slipping through I glanced back once at him, taking in the familiar sight of his broken frame. I bit my bottom lip and fought against the urge to curl up beside him and attempt to make him feel better while I cleaned up his cuts and iced his bruises like I always had in the past. With a sigh, I closed the door and walked through the dark back to my house.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NICK

I hated having her see me like this. That was the only reason I’d sent her away. Because it wasn’t supposed to be this way this time. Things were supposed to be different. I wasn’t supposed to get my ass kicked; I was supposed to be
doing
the ass kicking. Why had she even bothered to check on me? This was what I thought about while I finished off my dad’s bottle of rum.

~

Bright light filtered in through the cracks and holes in the mangled old shed. I sat up straighter and rolled my neck in an attempt to get the kinks out. It wasn’t helping. My head pounded and even the slight noise from the radio I’d left on was too loud to my ears. Areas of my face felt swollen and pulsated with pain. The night came crashing back to me and I tensed up, wondering if my father was still here. Had mom kicked him out? Was she planning to? If not, then would I be sent back to live with Aunt Christine and Uncle Ron?

I stood and only wobbled slightly as I made my way through the dented green door. My dad’s car was the first thing I noticed as I started toward my house. Shit. She was letting him stay. I had no doubt about it now.

“Morning, honey,” mom said in a cheery tone as I stumbled through the door.

I squinted my eyes and glanced around the living room for her. She wasn’t even there. Was I hearing stuff now, too?

“I’m in the kitchen,” mom called, almost as though she were in my head or I had spoken my question out loud. “I’m making you some breakfast. Hungry?”

Saliva pooled in my mouth, but not in a good way, at the thought of food. “Nah.”

She stepped around the corner and smiled at me. “Okay.” Her smiled faded. “Listen, we need to talk about last night.”

Great, here we go. She was going to tell me I had to go back. I guess I should be glad I didn’t have that much shit to pack. “About?”

I walked to the couch and flopped down. Mom sat at the edge and shifted her body toward me.

“Your father, he was real depressed last night and that’s why he started drinking.” She stopped talking and glanced down at her twiddling fingers.

“Maybe we should have him committed because it seems to me he’s been drinking like that my whole life. If he’s doing it because he’s depressed all the time, then he should get some freaking help,” I muttered in an irritated tone while I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands.

“Nick, I’m not taking him back if that’s what you’re thinking. The only reason his car is still here is because he passed out in it last night.”

Relief burst through me and the tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders released. “Want me to wake him? I’ll tell him to leave.”

A smile formed on her face due to my enthusiasm. “No, I want you to clean yourself up; you stink like alcohol. Then, if you feel up to it, go to school. If you don’t want to go in today,” she paused and gestured to my face, “for obvious reasons, then you don’t have to. I’ll take care of your father.”

I’d forgotten all about school. It had been the last thing on my mind when I’d woken. I hated to miss the second day, but what choice did I have? I glanced at the clock by the front door—10:15. I was already super freaking late anyway, might as well stay home. “I’ll get cleaned up, but I don’t think I’m going to school today.”

Mom nodded. “That’s fine for today, but don’t think you’re going to make a habit of it.”

“I won’t,” I said, before standing and heading to the bathroom for a shower.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JULIE

Music blared from Emily’s speakers—
Papa Roach
. I was too lost in my thoughts to sing along with the band, even though it was one of my favorite songs. All I kept thinking about was Nick and how I hadn’t seen him in the halls at school today. I wanted to make sure he was all right. I wanted to find out if he’d be leaving again. I chewed my bottom lip as I thought about how horrible it would feel to lose him all over again, even though he’d only been here for a few days this time.

My thoughts were interrupted as Emily squealed, “We’re here!”

I flashed a smile and opened the door, climbing out of the backseat. People said physical pain had its own way of making you forget your troubles and your worries. I guessed I was about to find out if that statement was true.

~

Jess’s apartment was cute. Very artsy and filled with bright pinks and black. Gray and white pictures of up-close flowers hung on her walls in a decorative fashion. I walked over to the black futon couch and sat. Grabbing one of the black and white polka dot pillows, I hugged it to my chest.

“Are you nervous?” Tiffany asked me. “I’m nervous as hell right now. Seriously, I think I might throw up.”

I chuckled. “I’m nervous, but not that nervous.”

“Then you go first. Please? That way you can tell me how bad it hurts.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

Emily and Jess came back out into the living room. Jess was carrying a silver tray with all of her equipment neatly lined up. “Who’s first, ladies?”

“Me,” I answered with a slight wave.

“All right, cool,” Jess said as she sat the tray down on the coffee table in front of me.

“Yay! I’m so excited!” Emily said, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes.

“I’m just going to clean the area first,” Jess said as she pulled on some gloves and wiped the right side of my nose with an alcohol-drenched tissue. “Is the right side okay?”

“Yeah.” I smiled.

“Which stud do you want—the white diamond or the pink?” Jess asked, her violet eyes meeting mine.

“White,” I answered.

“Hey, I was going to get that one,” I heard Tiffany grumble beside me.

“You should have gone first,” I teased.

“This is going to look so cute!” Emily exclaimed.

I watched Jess as she readied the little gun she’d be using. My stomach twisted and my heart began to pound. I swallowed hard and bit my bottom lip. Why the hell had I let these two talk me into this?

“Ready?” Jess asked with a smile.

I nodded and then closed my eyes once I felt the coolness of the gun press against my skin. A loud pop sounded as pain radiated from where she’d shot me with an earring.

“It’s going to bleed a little bit, but that’s normal,” Jess said as she wiped my new piercing with a tissue.

“Ah, it looks so good!” Emily squealed, handing me a mirror.

I glanced at myself. The area around the little white diamond was red and there was a slight amount of blood, but nothing too severe. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

“Did it hurt?” Tiffany asked.

“Not really, no,” I assured her as I set the mirror down, my eyes still slightly watering from the pain.

I sat back, unbelieving I’d just gotten my nose pierced, and wondered if anyone would notice. More specifically, I wondered if Nick would. What the hell was wrong with me? I was acting obsessed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NICK

It was Monday. My face still looked like shit, but I had no choice in the matter, I had to come to school. I’d avoided Jules all weekend, which meant that I’d spent the entire weekend locked in my house pretty much or working out without the garage door open like I liked. I figured if she couldn’t see me, then she wouldn’t know whether I was home or not and she’d leave me be…at least until my bruises healed some. That was all I wanted.

I sat my tray down at what I’d call my usual table and began to chow down on my Salisbury steak.

“Ew, you’re actually eating that stuff? It’s not even real meat. I swear,” I heard Emily say.

“It’s good.” I grinned and looked up.

She wasn’t alone this time. Beside her stood a tall, lanky guy with a beanie on his head and a faded
Disturbed
T-shirt on. Another guy with long black hair stood behind them.

“We’re adopting you,” Emily said as she sat down across from me.
Disturbed
T-shirt and long-haired guy followed suit.