Inferno Part 4

~31~ Self-Inflicted

"Besides you smoking pot, I surprisingly never had to deal with smoking. I always waited for the day, but it never came."

"Nah, your kid just took steroids," I snip.

"Ouch... you're cranky now. While that's true, that was uncalled for."

"Sorry dad," I sigh.

He stands up and hugs me, kissing my head.

"How you handling this?"

"Don't know."

"I still have secret stash of soap if you want it."

I glare at him. "I have a HUGE issue giving my kid something that I've never had myself."

Taylor grins. "You could try it if you want. There was a few times I wanted to give it to you, but since you weren't mine I didn't feel like I could press that hard."

"You tryin'ta get back at me for the time I smacked ya with a belt?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckles.

"How awful is it?" I ask.

Taylor literally grimaces. "I can still remember the taste, kid."

"Damn it," I say as I hop off his desk and he raises his eyebrows.

"You mean you're actually going to do it?"

I nod. "This kid's mouth has been awful for months and months. Now smoking? I'm at my wits end with her."

Taylor nods slowly. "Can I overstep?"

"Why stop now," I smirk at him.

"She's a tough cookie. The hand just isn't cutting it anymore. Might wanna consider the belt."

I groan as I slump my shoulders. "All of my children have been poops lately....Except Charlotte. I even got a call that Jaxson climbed a fence at school last week."

Taylor raises his eyebrows, and then opens his mouth to say something. He shuts it after a minute and then clears his throat. "Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I please be in there when you give yourself soap?"

"Damn it......"

"Is that a yes?"

I silently nod and he claps his hands together. "Can I get Greene?"

"What is this? A damn show?"

"He's just been so bluesy lately. Thought this might cheer him up."

"Whatever. If you invite anymore people, I'm charging $100 a ticket," I grumble as I walk into the bathroom.

A minute later, Wes and Taylor walk in and Taylor has a bar of soap. He grins as he hands it to me, and I crinkle my nose.

Wes starts laughing. "The first time I tried it with Izz-..." he stops and shakes his head, clearing his throat.

"Do I really have to do this?" I ask as I ignore Wes and look at Taylor.

"Of course not," he chuckles.

"But then my conscious will start hollerin', huh?"

Taylor smirks and looks down at the ground.

"Fine," I snap as I take it out of the box and put it under the water. When it's got a disgusting amount of bubbles, Taylor gets out his phone. "How long?"

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it. Two damn minutes," I hiss.

Taylor puts two minutes into his phone and looks at me. When I stick the evil slimy thing into my mouth, I immediately want to gag. You're a man, Liam. You save people from danger. You're a stud-machine. This soap is gonna bow down to you.

The gag that escapes my throat brings Taylor and Wes into a fit of laughter.

The taste is so bad, drool starts coming out the sides and my eyes are starting to water.

When I look at Taylor, I grab his wrist and turn it till I can see the time on his phone.... It's been 30 frickin' seconds.

I'm toast

When I stomp my foot, Taylor starts laughing so hard he reaches for Wes to support him. Wes isn't much support, because he's got his hands on his knees and is trying to breathe normally.

My tummy is starting to do flips and my gag reflex is starting to get stronger. Under normal circumstances, I'd be making a funny joke about this...Not now though. There's NOTHING funny about this.

Those two lunatics disagree.

They're laughing so hard, I'm waiting for the rest of the house to come in and see why they're dying.

I'm dying

I put my hands on the sink and droop my head, trying my best to focus on kittens and unicorns.

I'm gonna throw up.

When the beautiful beeper finally sounds, I spit the shit outta the soap and make it ricochet onto the floor. Then I start spitting and gagging, turning on the faucet and letting the water really do nothing to help me.

I always thought people were being nice when they allowed their kids to rinse.

What a crock of shit.

When I finally stop my spewing into the sink I look over, and the two adults in the room are crying.

"Happy?" I get out, feeling weak from the death I just endured.

Taylor straightens up and takes a big breath, wiping a tear off of his cheek. "Liam...I never once, in the history of helping raise you, EVER was happy when you got punished. Not one time....Today I can honestly tell you that I thoroughly enjoyed that."

I try and decide if I can flip off my Chief, and I quickly decide against it. I sure want to, though.

I pick the soap up off the floor and throw it away, and then wipe the Liam spit off the concrete. When I spit in the sink and wipe my mouth once more, Wes has a funny look on his face.

"What?" I ask as I wash my hands and then dry them.

"I just think that was really great of you to do."

"Give myself a punishment that I didn't even do anything for?"

I figured he would smile, but he doesn't.

"You refused to punish your daughter with something you wouldn't do to yourself. That says everything about you."

I tilt my head, not sure what he's getting at.

"I got the paddle one damn time. One smack, while I was drunk in college. I never once got an actual spanking with it, yet I spanked my children with it...."

He stops talking and shakes his head, walking out of the bathroom quickly.

Taylor turns serious for the first time, and his face is pained. "The thing nobody tells you about being a parent, is that you're gonna mess up more times than you succeed. It hurts like hell and you can't take it back. It's even worse when your children resent you for it...."

I nod and close my eyes. "I'm so sick of the hard shit," I finally say.

When I open my eyes, I see Taylor coming over and giving me a hug. "I know. It won't always be hard."

"It still is for Wes..."

Taylor nods. "That's true."

"Damn, I don't wanna mess up my kids."

Taylor starts to say something, when Trace comes in. "Captain, Savannah is here."

"Coming," I say as I clap Taylor on the shoulder and head to the bay, to talk to my daughter. To discipline my daughter.

To parent her and hope that one day she doesn't resent me for it.