Saving Isadore [MxM] (An Alpha's Fight Book 1)

Chapter 12

ISADORE ¤ POV

I sat quietly on top of a pillow between my father's open legs, resting my chin on my knees. The bristles of the brush dragging rhythmically against my scalp had me battling sleepiness and I blinked heavily, relaxing back against him as he draped my hair over his thighs.

Nana and Maverick were watching late night soaps on the small television Maverick and dad had recently bought, though I'm sure Nana was mostly dozing on the couch instead of following along with the unrealistic dramas. Dad and I had retreated to the spare bedroom where he was sleeping for our promised time alone together.

Dad was gentle, his strong hands barely tugging, even as he untangled knots and kinks around my scalp. It was just as I remembered from when I was young and my chest felt warm as we recreated those memories. I didn't say a word, waiting for him to speak first, wondering what he wanted to talk about and having questions of my own.

"I forgive you."

My sleepy eyes snapped open wide, my body tensing before beginning to tremble. I wanted to turn around and look at him, ask what he meant, question his sincerity, but I couldn't. I was suddenly filled with fear. Dad paused, resting a hand on my shoulder, urging me to calm down and I swallowed thickly.

"I never had a chance to tell you and I should've told you sooner, I'm sorry for that. I forgive you, Isadore, for killing Tarlo." His voice was low and although raspy with emotion, it came out strong and unwavering. My eyes burned and eventually tears began to cascade down my face.

"How can you forgive me?" I dared to whisper, clenching my fists as pain stole through me. I hadn't even forgiven myself all these years, blaming myself for the ruins of my life that remained. "I killed Tarlo... he was your son and I..."

"You're my son, Isadore. You are too." Dad sighed, picking up the brush again and combing through a section. "I'm partly to blame for what happened and I have regrets too. I shouldn't have been so lenient with Tarlo's behaviour and I shouldn't have brushed aside your hurt." He cleared his throat and I thought his fingers were trembling, the brush knocking softly against my head.

"Us adults... parents... we have a habit of brushing things aside and downplaying your feelings because you're pups. It's not right and I'm not excusing what your mum and I did but Isadore... fights about toys seem insignificant when you're worrying about bills and work and what you have to cook for dinner." He sighed heavily, as though his guilt was weighing on his chest. "I didn't take it seriously enough and that's solely on me."

"I was eight, dad. It felt like he was bullying me and n-no one cared. It sounds stupid, he was only five, but I was young myself. The teddies he stole were the teddies I cuddled at night to comfort me during night terrors or when I was scared of monsters in the dark. The times he hit me, he left bruises and I hit him back, yes, but god, it hurt to be beat on and then being told to take it because I was his older brother. I was older, I'm an alpha, but I wasn't a punching bag." My voice caught in my throat and I wiped my tears even as they continued to fall. It felt good to get this off my chest.

"I know, I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and put a stop to things before they went so far. I wish I asked you how you felt instead of reprimanding you. I wish I taught you how to control your anger instead of expecting you to learn on your own." Dad placed the brush down, parting the front of my hair and separating a section of hair from ear to ear.

"I was angry because I was hurt. That night..." I trailed off, feeling my stomach unsettle like waves during a storm. I tried not to think about the violence and clutched my midsection as I forced myself to go on. I prayed I could finish this well overdue conversation before I passed out or worse, had a seizure. "That night, Tarlo had been jumping on my bed. He mocked me while he did so and all I could think about was how he got away with causing me daily pain and I hated him for it. I was jealous, I was hurt and all of it turned into this uncontrollable anger."