SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 46.5

SO COLD

I was all bark, no bite. I could convince myself for months that I wasn't afraid of my father but when it came to a face-to-face confrontation, I was forced to accept reality. I was petrified. God's honest truth. A decade-old dread emerged from sleep and engulfed me. It was bone deep. Maybe time away intensified the feelings I kept submerged under water, maybe not, whatever it was they were now out and punishing me. I felt like running away. I was a coward. Sue me.

Our gazes collided.

His hair was longer, in a Jesus type cut. Brown, framed his face. From afar, it would've looked like a mane. One big, chaotic mane. His beard had grown out, something he never likes or does. His eyebrows were like two angry fat caterpillars wriggling above his eyes. He looked rough, like he'd been rolling about in a sewer someplace. It brought me some satisfaction that he wasn't living the high life. He stepped in, looked about the place, lip quirking upwards. Smirking. "Sorry about the mess. I'll pay for it." His gun gestured to the lock fragments.

Simultaneously, Isiah and I pulled out an automatic from our waistbands and levelled the guns at his head. We looked at each other with surprise. Dad paused, laughed softly, in disbelief. "What is this? You guys fucking practice that or something?"

"Get out." Isiah bit out, gaze hardening.

Dad pushed the door shut, his actions were slow and deliberate. He wasn't intimidated. Amused. He turned to me. "I expected a hug after all this time, not a gun in my face, Shay." His anger billowed into the room like smoke. My lungs shrivelled up. My hand was shaky.

"You heard him," I said. "Leave already. You're not welcome here."

"Don't take another step towards her, Richard." Isiah stood in front of him, a good head taller than my father, wide shouldered, athletic body from hours in the gym. "Drop your gun and make your way out. There doesn't need to be a fight."

Dad rubbed the corner of his mouth with a thumb. He laughed again. Stopped. Pressed his lips into a thin line, a scowl. Hateful. His hand knocked into Isiah's shoulder. "What exactly are you going to do about it, huh? Come on, big man. Explain to me where you've suddenly gotten your balls from. What are you gonna do? You can't protect your own family. Last I recall, you were hiding in the arms of your mother, weeping like a faggot. Your old man croaked it too, didn't he? What makes you think you can take care of my kids?"

"Because you've done such a good job," my sharp voice rang out, bitter and scornful. "Right, dad? You're in the runner-up for the best father of the year. I can't fault my upbringing. And then going crazy and heading out on a murder spree last year? Fucking incredible. Other dads surprise their kids with a trip to Disneyland but you really went all out. You deserve an applause. Greatest dad ever."

Seth came rushing out of his bedroom, faltering on the top of the stairs. "Dad?" he questioned unsurely. "What are you doing here?"

"Seth, go back in your room." I ordered.

Grandma walked out of the kitchen, hands clutching the house phone, gazing at my father. "The police have been called. They're on their way over." Her voice was wobbly, afraid.

"It's time for you to leave," Isiah said quietly. "Don't make this hard on yourself, Richard. Think of your kids. They don't deserve this."

"Don't give me advice," Dad snarled, he waved at Seth with the gun. "Come here, Seth. We're going."

"That's not happening," I said, my fear dissolved. My stance was protective, shielding Seth from his sight. "Get back upstairs, Seth."

"You're going to let her boss you around like that, huh, boy? Where's your resolve? I didn't know I raised a pussy." He taunted.