Twist of Fate

Chapter 13

"Oh," Robin can hear the disgust in his father's voice as he chuckles dryly, setting the whiskey bottle on wood with a clank, "like the bloody soldier who knocked you up with the bastard child?"

Robin could feel the muscles of his forearms and hands flex beneath his tunic in anger. Robin wanted to grab that bloody bottle and hit his father upside the head with it. If he heard one more negative word about Rae, he would surely charge out of his room at tackle his father to the floor where he stood.

"You shut your bloody mouth you drunken bastard. That is my daughter you are speaking about," his mother bit back, words like fire.

"Who are you callin' a bastard!" Robin's father screamed, his voice raspy, slamming his hands atop the wooden table between him and his wife.

Robin heard his father's voice lower, as he whispered harshly to his mother.

"The only bastard in this family is that wench you call your blood! Your family! Well Edie, do I have news for you. That "girl" is nothin' but a six-year old, money-suckin', brat. Whose only purpose in this family is to serve as the laughing stock of Nottingham, living with the shame of being your "daughter" if that's the so-called name for the thing!" 

A crash of a whiskey bottle smashing sounded throughout the house, and Robin couldn't take it anymore.

Storming out of his room, Robin, as quick as lightning, ran down the hall and into the kitchen, slamming his father into the wall behind him, hands buried in the collar of his shirt, his eyes bulging out of his skull in anger.

The sound of Robin's mother's cries could be heard somewhere far off in Robin's subconscious, however the only thing that his eyes were seeing were red.

He was seething mad.

"Get. Out. Now," Robin ground out between his clenched teeth in anger, as he held his father to the wall tighter, his fists twisting around his father's collar even harder than before, his face inches away from his father's. 

Arlan cleared his throat, swallowing thickly before he looked to Robin and began to speak, "Look, son, I'm sorry. Perhaps you can give me a second chance at this thing? I'll do better, I promise."

Robin pulled back from his father, loosening his fingers from his collar, before he pulled back his clenched fist, and slammed it into his father's cheek full force. 

"You." Another punch.

"Never," Another punch.

"Keep," Another punch.

"Your,"  Another punch.

"Promises."

Robin could hear his mother's exclaiming cries from behind him at each punch he threw at his father. Arlan was now on the ground, blood flowing from his nose down onto his shirt, accompanied with labored breathing. 

"You get out of this house now, of so help me God I will throw you out myself," Robin growled, fire coating his words as his tone dripped with enmity. 

Robin's father's eyes widened.

Not from surprise or shock-- this was the alcohol doing it's work in Robin's father's brain. His father's judgement had been effected first, soon it was going to be his motor skills.

But Robin didn't care.

Robin pulled his father to his feet by his collar, a look of disgust evident on his face, as he shoved his father out of their home and into the yard. 

Robin didn't give a thought towards what his father would endure or run into after he threw him out of their house.

"No man similar to the likes of you deserve to hold the love of another, let alone obtain a family," Robin bit out in disgust as he slammed the front door in anger, turning around to face his mother.