Heartbreaker [Ryden] [BOOK ONE]

- five -

Since I'd actually agreed to do this...I guess you could qualify it as a date, thing with Brendon, I was forced to give him my number so he could text me when he was on his way. Friday night I'd come home to my parents fighting, again, but this time when I tried to leave, my dad stopped me on my way out the door.

"Ryan, where do you think you're going?" He snapped. I automatically froze, he smelled strongly of alcohol, and that never led to anything good. I sighed softly, turning around to face the drunken man. He had his eyebrows arched angrily. 

"To Grandma's house." I replied simply, no sarcasm, no fear, just an answer. 

"Why?" He went on to question me. I sighed again, a little frustrated, and put my hand on my hip. "-because I have plans tomorrow, that require sleep, and I'm not gonna get any with you and mom screaming all the time." I answered, plastering a fake smile across my face. 

I turned to lean forward, grabbing the handle, but before I could twist it and leave, I felt a hand on my waist. I let out a scream of surprise as my father yanked me back, turning me around to shove me back towards the kitchen. I gasped softly, my breathing was already picking up as I stumbled back, away from him. 

He started towards me, shaking a finger at me, "Last I checked, I was the parent, I make the decisions, you're not leaving." He decided. I angrily stopped stepping back, allowing him to get a few inches near me before I stood up for myself.

"Oh? Really? You suddenly care about being my father? Fuck off, you're drunk." I growled, rolling my eyes. I tried stepping out of the way to head for the door again, but he threw me back again. This time, I stumbled into the table, where the edge of the table dug into my side. I let out a quick gasp as pain tingled through my right side, but in no time I was fumbling around, searching for a way of defense.

"Excuse me, boy? You're not going anywhere!" He snarled, jumped towards me. Before he could actually touch me, or hurt me, my hand had fumbled over a knife. At first, I tried grasping it by the blade, which ended with me cutting my hand. I cursed softly, glancing away for a second to grab the knife the right way, and hold it out towards my father. 

He stopped, standing in place, staring at me.

"Dad, I'm going to Grandma's. Tomorrow, I'll be out with a friend, alright? You won't make this decision for me, I'm old enough to make it on my own." I said, slowly, to make sure the words registered in his brain. His eyes never left the knife, but instead stayed strained upon it. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes held fury. With that, which I took as a sign to go, I ran. 

I ran out the door, not once looking back, and stumbled on into the night. 

"A date? Ooh!" Grandma cooed, looking up from the table. She adjust her glasses with a slight smile, cocking her head to the side. I nodded, a smile gracing my lips as well. I was in the middle of applying a bandaid to my open wound. 

"Hey, gran, do you think I could camp out here for a bit? I don't want to, uh, go home yet." I whispered, my voice softening with each word that came from my mouth. Grandma was still looking at me, and within seconds, her eyes softened, and she beckoned me over. So I finished applying the bandaid, and walked over to her.

She took my hands in hers, forcing me to sit down at the seat beside hers. From there, she told me, "Ryan, you're allowed to stay here as long as you want, alright?" She stopped, and during her moment's hesitation, I smiled. "Now, tell me about that boy you like," She grinned, winking playfully. I rolled my eyes in return, propping my face up on one elbow.