Hate You - LN

3

I remove my cap from my head and hang it on one of the hooks in the entryway hall. I'd left my degree in my car. I'm sure he would've torn it if he'd seen it so it was best to leave it in a safe place. Running into my dad pissed off at the end of my happy day was inevitable. But I'd purposely told him that my graduation was next week for a reason. At least up until this point, I'd gotten to enjoy my accomplishment. I now have a master's degree, and thanks to being known around the F1 paddock because of my friendship with Charles, I already have a job set up with Aston Martin starting next week.

The only reason I've come home at all is to pack what little of my things remain in my bedroom and say my goodbyes to the drunk currently crossing the room to face me. I knew this had to come. Saying goodbye to Dad was never going to be easy.

I loosened the muscles in my legs and tried to relax my features. Lorenzo, who had called me crazy for wanting to come back here and say goodbye was right. I am crazy. But a part of me, the little girl in me I suppose, trusted my dad over and over that maybe he wouldn't be mad. Maybe he's like he was ten years ago before Mum passed. I hated that I loved him. Hated that even though he's hurt me more times than I can count, I love him. And some small part of me was hoping that if I walked in the door today my dad would be proud to see me in a cap and gown. 

But like always my trust and hope in the man was misplaced. The man I love, the man I thought ten years ago was the best dad in the world was now a violent, abusive drunken bastard.

Lorenzo had every right to call me crazy, to lecture me and remind me why I was leaving. Putting myself in a position to be beaten up was never a good idea. But Mum's things were in a box in my room. And I wasn't leaving her things in the hands of a monster, even if I had decided to move in with the Leclercs until I found somewhere to rent.

"I messed up the dates, one of my friends called me this morning, it all happened really fast." I made a feeble excuse. I doubted he would buy it.

He was closer now, within arms reach and his swaying legs stopped. Harry Garett towered over me. His six-foot-three frame was taller than me by eight inches and he easily weighed double what I do. I was always thankful for the fact I resembled my mother and not him.

"You're a pathetic liar, just like your mother was." He slurred.

I focussed on keeping my muscles loose when the first blow came. I tasted the familiar coppery taste on my tongue as my freshly healed lip split again. I cringed at the sting but didn't react. Fighting him never made it better, never made anything end quicker. Backtalking, and fighting back, always makes it worse.

Love. I'd once loved this man, trusted him. That little girl in me still did. But the woman I am is broken because of him.

Blows came hard and fast after that, and in a meer moments, I was down on the ground on my hands and knees. With the wind knocked from my lungs I sagged, trying to focus on taking slow deep breaths. I could breathe, there was no reason why I couldn't, my brain was just in momentary shock.

His foot connected with my ribs and I heard the distinct sound of a snap, and I collapsed onto the ground heaving. The blood in my mouth felt like a gag and breathing became painful.

I'm okay, I've had broken ribs before. They'll heal.

The positive self-talk wasn't working. I tried and failed to roll over and spit out the blood in my mouth, but the hardwood floors dug into my broken side and I smothered a scream in pain.

Lay down here for a bit, rest, and recover. That's the motto. Rest. Recover.

My eyes were blurry and the hint dad had walked away was given to me by the creaking of the floorboards that drew quieter as he walked. My eyesight began to fade, the chandelier above me blurring in the sun that streaks in through the broken window opposite of me in the room. Stars danced in my vision. All I had to do was get to my room, grab Mum's box, and then get to my car. But I wasn't too sure anymore I could drive. Let alone lift a box.

Lorenzo. He'd told me to call him if I needed help moving anything. Well, I guess I needed help moving Mum's box. And maybe me. Shifting and smothering another groan in pain I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Lorenzo and Charles were set as my emergency contacts. So I pressed the necessary buttons and let the phone drop to the floor when I saw the number on the screen. My phone slid underneath the small storage cabinet beside me and my vision swam again. I fumbled around with my hand, trying to feel for it, but no luck.

Distantly, like a whisper I heard the line connect. "Devin hey, I just got out of the car, I'm sorry my race was at the same time as your graduation. Was the live stream recorded? I still want to watch my adopted sis walk across the stage."

I felt my face collapse. It wasn't Lorenzo on the other side of the phone, it was Charles. I thumbed around trying to find my phone again but my arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

"Dev?" Charles asked again.

My heavy arm couldn't reach my phone. Something crashed somewhere. I sighed and a cough bubbled out of my throat. I felt the blood run down from the corner of my mouth. Giving up I shut my eyes. I focussed on an evening out my breathing, trying to bring down my heart rate. My head began to drift off with my vision and darkness began to claim me.

"Devin?"

I shut off the water, now running cold down my back and stepped out of the glass enclosure, wrapping up in a fluffy white towel. I quickly moisturized my face and brushed out my hair. With my towel still wrapped around me, I walked out of my bathroom and into my walk-in closet—the lush carpet of the small space squished under my feet.

I had nowhere to go for the rest of the day and with Bahrain in four days I would have to start doing some laundry and packing. I quickly threw on a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and an oversized grey hoodie and dragged out my massive suitcase from the back of my closet.

I started sorting through my clothes, figuring out what I wanted to pack from what I needed when my phone rang across my flat. Getting up from my seated position on the floor I walked over to my desk and looked down at my phone. Charles, pictured in his infamous banana suit lit up the screen. I quickly picked up, holding the phone to my ear.

"Salut Char, ça va?" I greeted in our usual French.

"Dev!" The sweet voice exclaimed. It wasn't Charles on the other end of the call but Alexandra.

I laughed "Hi Alex, where is Charles?"

"He's here, he just decided to drop my phone off the side of the marina dock, so I couldn't call you to ask how your interview went."

In the background, I heard Charles yell out. "I didn't do it on purpose!"

I laughed. "Did he now?"

"Yup." Alex started. "Thankfully I've backed up my phone and he's already offered to replace it. But anyway we're getting sidetracked. Mclaren or Mercedes?" I sighed and apparently, the noise of contemplation was heard by Alex on the other end of the call. "Shit, really?"

"I didn't even say anything," I laughed.

"The sigh was enough to tell me Mclaren and little Lando are your life now."

I smiled. "Not so little Alex, I've told you that."

I heard Charles choke on something in the background. "Are you in town?"

I nodded, then realized Alex couldn't see me. "Yeah, just at home."

"Come down to the marina," the phrase was more like a statement than a question. "Charles, Pierre, Kika and I are heading out on the water for the day, I think this conversation deserves more than a phone call and needs to include some kind of alcoholic drink."

I laughed to myself again. "Sure, I'll be there," I trailed off, looking at the time displayed on my kitchen stove, "around three-thirty."

"Perfect, I'll have a drink waiting for you."

"You're the best, you know that right?"

"Oh honey, I know," there was another loud crash in the background. "Now hurry up, I might need you to fix Charles when he drops a cooler on his foot."

I smiled again, "see you soon."

"See you."