Chapter 9
QUINN
I watched Michael head down the street. He dropped me off after a fantastic day but couldn’t stay for dinner even though I asked him to. When I felt silly standing in my doorway, I went inside and headed to the shower first. After my run this morning then being in the water all day, I was in desperate need of soap.
After basking in the scalding water until it ran cold, I got out and wrapped myself in a towel so I could head to my room to get dressed. I heard the back door opening and keys being set down.
“Hello?” my mom called. “Are any of my children home?”
“Yea!” I called back. “Getting dressed! I’ll be right down!”
I hurried into my room, found some clean shorts and a loose tank top, hurriedly dressed, and clipped up my soaking hair. I skipped down the stairs and found my mom in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. “Hey,” I greeted her.
“There you are. You look clean. Out all day?” she asked.
“Yea, went to the dam,” I told her.
“You guys have fun?” she asked. I felt my cheeks warm as I nodded. My mom gave me an inquisitive look but didn’t question further. “Go get the mail, then help me make dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
I pranced down the driveway barefoot, the hot cement burning the bottoms of my feet. My dad laughed as I danced in front of the mailbox pulling out the mail. “Maybe you should wear shoes, Q,” he called from his car. I ran up the driveway and tried to tackle him, only to miss and almost fall right on my face. He laughed some more.
I handed him the mail as we stepped inside. He went over to my mom and greeted her like he usually did, and I went to the sink to wash my hands. My dad sat at the kitchen table and started opening the mail while my mom and I began to make dinner.
“Quinn, your schedule came in,” Dad said from the table. I looked over to see him reading it and frowning. “Why are you in freshman math 2 and sophomore math 1? I thought you were being skipped the freshman courses altogether.”
“No, I was only skipped for math 1 because I came in 2% below the skip point on the exam,” I reminded him.
“That’s not the conversation we had with your teacher,” he said. He sounded irritated. “I will need to call your counselor.”
“Dad, no, it’s fine. It’ll just be an easy period,” I said quickly.
“You really shouldn’t waste your time in easy classes,” my mom agreed.
“But I have so many other things going on! I have marching band and cross country, plus there are chairs opening up in the jazz band. I put eight clubs on my interest forms, so who knows how many of those I will stick with. An easy class will help in the first semester,” I tried to reason.
My dad shook his head. “You’re not wasting an entire class on things you already know,” he said. “We’ll see what needs to be done about swapping that to sophomore math 1 and 2 even if they need to test you again.”
I hung my head. I didn’t want to fight with my parents, but the idea of taking another exam to tell my parents I was intelligent but just not as advanced as they like to think was not inviting.
“I also want to look over the club interest form you turned in,” he said, folding the papers back up and stuffing them in the envelope.
“Why?” I asked. My parents told me to get involved in everything I could make time for; my dad desperately wanted to send me to his dream college, and all I wanted to do was make them proud.
“I want to make sure the clubs you might join line up with your plans for the future,” he said, opening another piece of mail.
“What does that mean?” I asked, completely stopping what I was doing. He didn’t answer me, just continued reading something. I looked at my mom.
“What does he mean?” I asked her silently.
She audibly sighed but answered me over link. “We just want to make sure you don’t have anything on your plate that won’t help you when you start applying to colleges and looking at your career.”
“Don’t all these places preach diversity among your interests? Who cares what clubs I do. I get involved and don’t waste my life away in front of a TV!” I argued.
“Enough,” my dad said, stopping my mother and me. “You will take the classes best suited to get you into the right program when it comes time for college. You will graduate with honors, and that is final.”
“I don’t think I want dinner tonight,” I said. I stormed out of the kitchen and up to my room, not bothering to ask to be excused. I was furious with their demands. I was a good kid; I did what I was supposed to do. I was disappointed when I got the test results and still had to take one of the freshman maths, but my teacher reminded me that having an easier class wasn’t bad when settling into high school, plus playing sports and other things.
“At least Michael will be around at school; he makes you smile,” Sapphire reminded me.
“That’s true. Still doesn’t make this any less shitty. What happens when my dad decides he isn’t in the best interest of my future career,” I moped.
“Call him,” she encouraged. “Don’t let this ruin today.”
I grabbed my phone from my bag that was lying on my bed. I quickly sent a message to Michael to see if he was busy. I paced around my room, trying to be patient and wait for his response. Five minutes ticked by, and I hadn’t received anything. Against my better judgment, I called him. The call was quickly sent to voicemail, and my heart sunk.
“He’s probably just busy. It is almost dinner time,” Sapphire tried to console me. I flopped down on my bed, feeling a little defeated.
I wanted nothing more than to rewind to a few hours ago when we were still in the water. After I got over my initial embarrassment when he just started undressing, we had the best time. He let me hold onto him when we went into the deeper water or stayed close when I wasn’t holding onto him. I never even told him I wasn’t the most confident swimmer.
I stared up at my ceiling. My whole day came crashing down over menial crap. Who cared about one math class? I continued to check my phone every couple of minutes in hopes that I would see Michael’s name.
I pushed myself up and looked around my room. I didn’t want to read, and I didn’t want to write. Watching anything of interest on TV would require me to go down to the living room or basement, and I also had no interest in being around my parents. My brother’s room smells like dirty socks, so I didn’t want to go in there and play video games either.
The sun was starting to lower in the sky as I looked out my window. My eyes fell on the woods that weren’t too far away. Maybe I could shift and stretch my paws for a while. “What do you think, Saph?” I asked her. A moment passed, and she didn’t respond. “Saph?” I tried.
I let out a heavy sigh. It just figured that the only thing to make the day end up worse would happen. I grabbed my sneakers and pulled them on. I shoved my headphones in my ear and turned my music all the way up. I slipped out the front door and started running. I decided to run until I was tired enough to sleep and get my wolf back.
MICHAEL
Reluctantly, I dropped Quinn off and headed home. All good things must come to an end, and this day was no different. If I stayed out much later, I knew he would send someone to look for me. As I forced myself to pedal towards home, I felt the tension in my chest spreading. I always felt like this when I couldn’t find any more excuses to be gone for the day. Once I arrived, I could see his car. He was home. The tension became the familiar sensation of a weight on my chest, and I could feel the opposite of the pleasurable prickling Quinn made me feel spreading down my spine. Now, it was replaced with dread. I hoped he would be too busy with whatever Alpha duties he deemed necessary to notice me tonight. I couldn’t bear this perfect day being ruined, and I prayed I could disappear into my room unnoticed with a book. I hadn’t let on yet to Quinn, but I had a library of my own. As I walked around to our back entrance and opened the door, I knew today was too good to be true.
“So, you’ve decided to grace us with your presence then,” came my father’s voice down the hallway. He was glaring at me with the familiar vein popping out of his forehead next to his stupid brown birthmark, his jaw set and nostrils flaring.
“f**k,” I thought to myself. It was going to be one of those nights.
“He’s been drinking again,” Eros pointed out. My wolf was right; I could smell it on his breath. I hated that smell. It’s why I never wanted to drink when my friends offered it to me at parties.
“Just out riding my bike,” I said innocently, hoping he would drop it.
“Of course you were. Anything to get you out of what you are supposed to be doing around here,” he spat at me. I knew I couldn’t just walk past him now; It was too late. My mom must be out, and I couldn’t hear Tyler anywhere. It was just him and me, just the way he liked it.
“I didn’t know I had anything specific to do here.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
“There is always something to do here,” he bellowed. “You have training to attend to, chores to keep up with, and anything else I deem necessary. I have too much s**t to do to hold your hand, Michael.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, trying to hide the disdain in my voice. It didn’t matter what I said; I couldn’t change what was coming. Still, he was a poor excuse for a man, and it had taken me my whole life to realize it. It was hard to pretend I respected him when he didn’t deserve it.
“Watch your tone,” he growled, his eyes narrowing and vein bulging in his forehead. “You never learn, do you? Children are to be seen and not heard, serve their parents, show their obedience. Do you think the Goddess will stand for your insolence? You shame her every time you fail to uphold your obligations here. When the Goddess created us, we were given a hierarchy for a reason. The pack has its order, and so does our family. You belong at the bottom of both, you worthless, piece of f*****g-”
My mind disconnected for a moment. He was in one of his rants again. My father had grown up in what felt to me like a cult, and it was something he and my mom argued about my whole life. His view of what the Goddess taught us and wanted for our lives was so skewed that it made me question whether I should be following her at all sometimes. The way her words could be twisted and used by someone like him felt wrong, and the fact that he stood there in front of me without being struck down by the Goddess felt like she condoned his teachings. I’d been through so many of these lectures that they all blended together.
“Deer in the headlights, again?” he asked, now breathing his hot beer-infused breath into my face, trapping me between himself and the closed door. It’s what they called when I zoned out as he yelled. I didn’t mean to do it; it just happened.
“I wasn’t trying to-”
I felt the hard crack of his hand crash into my ear before I was able to finish my hurried apology. The ringing in my ear made it difficult to hear what he was trying to say, and I could feel the heat rising in my face where he’d slapped me. I was almost of age; I was supposed to be a man now, and here I stood, letting him hit me like a pup. I saw it coming this time, but I didn’t move to stop it. His backhand grazed my other ear, and it sounded like the ringing in both ears joined as one in the middle.
“You’re never trying; that’s the f*****g problem, Michael. We all have to do your thinking for you because no matter how many books you read, you’re f*****g useless. Now, here you stand whimpering like a little b***h because I tapped you a little bit.”
Tears were burning at the corner of my eyes, but I hadn’t given him the satisfaction of seeing them fall in longer than I could remember. I didn’t know if they were from the pain or the absolute rage at not being able to do anything about this, probably a mixture of both. It was times like these that the intrusive thoughts started, and as he screamed at me close enough to feel the spit hitting my face, I wondered if I could get away with murdering him as he slept. Would the pack know? Would my mom care? I often thought about sinking my canines into the brown spot on his forehead.
I felt him reach into my collar with one hand, the other crossing under his wrist to the opposite side. His hands gripped my shirt now, and he pulled me to his chest as I heard yet another shirt begin to rip slowly. He was trying to choke me. He did it often, and it only ruined all of my favorite shirts. Once my collar started to tear away from my shirt, he let go because he wasn’t getting the response from me he wanted. I wouldn’t sputter and choke when he wasn’t actually hurting me; I refused to give him that satisfaction. I heard my mom and Tyler coming into the hall. Tyler’s eyes grew wide as he saw my shirt and my face; I’m sure it was red. My ear felt swollen.
My mom looked scared, but she turned to the kitchen, “I’m going to make dinner. Would you help me in here, Michael?”
“You’re lucky,” he growled low and into my ear. “Next time.”
He palmed my head, slamming it into the door, and followed it up with a short punch to my stomach, bowing me over as I tried to catch my breath. Without another word, he strolled away to his office and ignored everyone else.
“Are you okay?” Tyler asked, his face frightened.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” I lied, straightening walking past him to follow my mom. I was never fine. At least, I wasn’t when I was at home.