Mercy

Chapter Fiftyone

        Des's nostrils flared alike to mine. "I only agreed to this because I still want to hear of you, and you haven't bothered at all to come visit me." 

        "Oh, and you've somehow hadn't had the time to call me? Or tell me that night that you wouldn't be coming back home!? For six fucking years?!" I roared, my throat burning and my eyes prickling with tears. The act of crying was so foreign to me. It hadn't happened in so many years. 

        "Harry, I can only do so much! I can only apologize for being terrible with you. I don't know what to say exactly to you. I know you're angry --" 

        "Of course, I am! I didn't even want to come here! You never cared about me at all so just fucking admit it, damn it. We won't have to sit together for another minute. Tell me how fucking pathetic I am, what a failure --" 

        He stood from his chair, looking livid. "I don't want you to end up like me!" He screamed, the vein in his neck becoming prominent from the fury. 

        I sat there with a single tear rolling down my cheek. 

        Des breathed loudly before being told to sit back down. He did so slowly, staring at me with anger and stress. "There are so many things you can do Harry, especially with the money you have and the potential you can reach. And that's coming from your shit dad. I fucked up, but I don't want you fucking up the last time. And never seeing that girlfriend of yours. Never, ever being able to carry Belle, your sister. You'll never see your mother again, or hold her. They'll lock you up for good, Harry." 

        He pointed to his heart, slamming his fist against the area with anger. "In here, the regret consumed my heart. I'm just a mush of anger here. Nothing special. Until I die. Even then, I'm sure your mother will be the only one showing up at my funeral. God, you have no idea how much I hate myself." 

        I was silent, fully crying now. I couldn't help it. There was so much pain being stacked upon stacks of emotion throughout the years. 

        "Do you want to feel like that? I don't fucking think so, Harry. Stop acting like you don't give a shit and live your life!" He snapped. 

        I shakily inhaled, trying desperately to stop the sobs. "You were a pathetic excuse for a father. You have no idea how much it hurt to sit for hours in my bedroom, tossing around that same fucking football we’d throw around and waiting for the years to go by so dad can come back." The tears blurred my vision at this point. 

        "I fucked up," is all he said, repeating himself. "Really bad. And this is the last thing your mother wants for you. I bet your girlfriend won't want to hear that you're stuck in here for life. Because trust me, the second she finds someone better she won't come back here to visit you." 

        "Be a fucking man, Harry. Grow the fuck up. It's time to drop those games. You're turning twenty. Time to get serious about your future. If you didn't have all that money because of your mother, you'd be in tough shape." He pointed his finger at me as he spoke.

        A sob shook my body as I went to wipe my tears. "Why did you do that to our family? Why did you have to ruin everything?" I looked up at him, shaking my head. 

        "It's all my fault. I know. I didn't have people telling me get my life together. Anne had no clue what I was doing. But the truth is now. I can't let you do this to yourself."

        That's when I put the phone back in its place, and stood up. I turned my back on him and walked out through the door. John stood almost immediately, and his face was pure concern for the fact that I was still crying.