Rebecca's Bad Day

Pierce

-Pierce.- Hunter stares at the screen. -The fuck are you daughters at?-

Great, he is talking like an imbecile today too.

Kimberly talks about Rebecca acting out but this shit has always been against me and she encourages it.

-Good morning to you too, son. I just came from picking Mallory up. Yes, Anthony, I could go for a cup, thank you.-

I get some of the fresh fruit boxes from the bag and place them on the counter.

-You are gonna have to brew it yourself, I had the last cup.- Hunter dangles his cup, looking from the right side of his eyes.

Ice; his mothers are the ocean, Hunter's are ice.

-It's fine.- I smile at him.

Hunter is my son. Hunter is my son.

I love my son. I love Hunter and I don't punch Hunter.

A good father doesn't hit his son because he drank the last cup of coffee, a good father brews a new pot and offers some to his sons.

There's no more coffee in the jar. Do good fathers break Spanish handmade ceramic jars on their son's head? Probably not.

-Hunter, did you brew the pot this morning?-

-Oh right. You are gonna have to go the store again, because I used all the coffee in the jar.-

This time Hunter turns to fully face me with a dumb smile leaning over the counter.

All his perfect teeth in a row, he got the same weird long canines Kim has. Hunter taps the marble of the counter with his nails.

He keeps them filed but long enough to cut stuff with them and polished in black and navy blue.

Kim and his shrinks have told me we have to let him experiment with his personal appearance, to encourage his artistic inclinations. But those nails are not to express some artsy anti system statement.

Those nails are claws, as he reminds me, tapping his right hand while glaring at me, I can almost see the red forming in the bottom of his pupils.

At any moment he could jump on me, at any moment he could kill me.

This is why I love him.

If only he focused all this rage in something more productive than picturing ways to kill me like Wile E. Coyote.

Hunter could be so many things, but he excels at being mediocre. A jack of all trades and a master of none.

-There's another bag in the pantry, I'll go get it dad.- As always, at least Anthony is a good son.

-Thanks, champ, I am going to drink some juice too, want a glass?-

Anthony nods smiling and runs to the pantry outside the kitchen.

-Hunter, juice?-

-Sure, but not if you pour it.- He keeps smiling and tapping his ten fingers on the counter.

-Ok, Crown Prince. Why are you angry at me? What did I do wrong today?-

-Rebecca is MIA-

-Rebecca is most likely with Tiff. You barely called at her age too. And besides, you two should have been more responsible about her last night.-

Speak of the devil.

Both of their phones make noise before Hunter has time to give me a snarky response, Anthony's makes noise from outside the kitchen.

Probably their sister trying to get a ride back home, meh. She wants to be angry at me today, great.

Maybe the lodge was wrong. No, taking them there was a good thing for them, that way they stop being afraid of me.

That way my children become free. I am a good father.

-Dad.-

Did Hunter just call me dad?

-What Hunter?- I turn to him worried.

His eyes are wide open, teary. What is wrong with him? My phone rings.

Rebecca thank god.

-Hello, Rebecca!-

Silence, she is breathing on the other side of the phone.

-Princess? I know you are angry at me, but I am not angry at you. Tell me where you are and I'll pick you up. I can even take the Porsche, we can stop by Rodeo and get your mother something nice. Or we can go looking for an early present for your birthday?-

A shy whimper on the other side of the line.

-I haven't taken you shoppi...-

-Shut up.- Rebecca is crying.

-Rebecca, what's wrong? Why are you crying?-

If there's a hell, I am there. She's been gone for almost a day now.

Oh no my sweet baby.

Fire takes over my entire body, if only I could cross the phone to her. Why is she crying?

-Daphne.-

No.

-I am sorry I called you a traitor. You have always been my favorite. I love you, Rebecca.- I hang up.

Fire, everywhere fire.

Daphne is dead. I killed her, I threw her under the fucking subway. She has to be dead, did I push some other woman under a train?

Fuck, no. It had to be Daphne. It had her eyes.

Hunter keeps staring at me.

-Who's Daphne?- He asks so genuinely afraid and it pains me to dislike him so much.

The boy loves his siblings.

-I have to go to pick your sister up, from... from my friend's house.-

Hunters' eyes lose all hope. -Fuck.- He mouths, breathless.

-Wait, dad!- Anthony runs inside the kitchen.

The boys scream but I rush to the garage and get on the H1. I have to get to the Cove, Hoffman must know something about her.

The bitch. Oh, the bitch.

Oh, the bitch just CAN ́T FUCKIGN DIE, CAN SHE?

How many times is she going to pop-up out of the blue and do this to us? Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck.

Rebecca is too old now, fuck. It can't be her, it can't be her. I am so fucked. I need to fix this before Kimberly's flight gets to LAX. No, fuck Kim.

I need to fix this before Daphne can ruin my baby.