Maeve
The teams going to Shaw's tonight and since I know Rhys can't pass up an opportunity to drink, I'm going to meet him there so we can talk.
And when I mean talk, I mean eat him up and spit him back out like garbage.
I know for a fact that whatever he says today won't change the fact that he left me and it definitely won't change how much I despise him.
At least I hope not.
Earlier today, Liam declared that he wants to spend the night at home.
I thought I was his home. Apparently not.
That was like sucker punch to the stomach when he said that.
I raised him.
I worked hard so he feels loved and cared for.
I'm his guardian.
Our dad is not.
"Liam? We're here, buddy." I gently shake his leg in an attempt to wake him but he's out cold, drool all over the place.
I sigh, hitching his bag on my shoulder higher before I start unbuckling him, grabbing his water that he holds loosely in his hand.
He doesn't even wake when I pick him up, only sighing into me.
Most of the time he walks up to the door himself, using the small keypad on the door to run inside, which he loves to do so I don't have to see Dad.
But since he's passed out like a drunken sailor, I'm just going to have to suck it up.
Dad still lives in the house I grew up in, if you can even call it that.
He lives in a small trailer park, his trailer parked on the far side away from the highway.
It's run down, the roof covered in dozens of tarps, the side window duck taped shut. The stairs leading to the front door aren't even stair anymore, just a pile of wood.
If it was up to me, Liam would never spend a night in this shit hole.
But to him, our Dad is amazing.
A fucking rockstar.
When I step inside, the smell of booze and cigarettes immediately make me stand up straighter, flashbacks of when I was Liam's age flooding back.
I'm supposed to be at the bar in twenty minutes so I make my way to Liam's room, the cleanest part of the house since Dad never steps a foot in there.
"I'm going to get going Liam. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
His eyes open as I set him down on the bed, smiling when he takes in his surroundings, immediately knowing where we are.
"Did you pack my trucks? My new one? I wanna show Dad."
I swallow, my hands balling into fists but I nod, pulling out the handful of plastic cars I brought for him.
"I love you Liam. So much. You know that right?" I ruffle his hair.
"I know but I love you more." He exclaims and it makes my heart fucking burst.
I step out of the room, closing the door gently behind me.
"Sarah? That you?"
Oh, fuck me sideways.
I look over my shoulder, locking up so tight I can feel my nails digging into my palms.
My heart raises slightly but I keep my calm.
"I was just dropping off Liam for the night. He wanted to show you his new trucks."
My Dad is a big man. Even after all the drugs, he's still tall and could easily pin me down.
"Maeve? What the fuck you doing here?"
His words are slurred and I can tell by the way his head flops side to side that he's been drinking. Not a lot because his pants are still on but he's at least two or three bottles in.
"I told you. Liam wanted to show you-could you stop fucking drinking when Liam's here?"
He takes a swig before stuffing a cigarette in his mouth, his hair frizzy which means he hasn't showered in days.
He doesn't respond, just walks a few steps closer to me, his eyes foggy, his clothes rumpled.
He looks at me like he did with mom. Love and warmth. Two things my dad never showed me.
Every step he takes closer to me, I take backward towards the door until I'm pushed up against it, fumbling with the handle behind me.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" He hisses, his fist slamming into the door behind me, just above my head.
"Dad. Let me the fuck go." I spit at him as his slimy hand wraps around my wrist, the cigarette he was holding in that same hand burning my arm.
But I don't flinch. Don't show how fucking scared I am.
"I can't believe you took Sarah away from me. You are no daughter to me. Just a fucking murderer."
That time, I do flinch.
He pulls the lighter out of his pant pocket, lighting the cigarette again before he pushes it into my skin again like how he did when I was a teenager.
I grit my teeth, using my free hand to slap his arm upwards and away, pushing at his chest until he stumbles back. His ugly eyes narrow on me, the smell of him making me want to vomit.
My heart shatters more and more every time he mentions mom, blaming me for her death every fucking day since Liam was born.
I love Liam so fucking much.
But the pain of loving him becomes more unbearable everyday.
Dad's hold on my hand loosens so he can walk to the beer filled fridge so I take the opportunity to run to Liam's room and grab him, dad's interest in me lost.
"No! I don't want to leave! Stop!" Liam shouts and cries, arching away from me when I pick him up making it really hard to hold him without dropping him on his head.
"Liam. Please. We can have a movie night. Anything you want." I plead, trying to gather his bag as he continues to push away from me, slapping me in the face while doing so.
"No! I hate you! I want to stay! Let me stay!"
That hurts more than it should especially since I know he's just saying it because he's frustrated.
"Liam? Are you okay?" My dad asks from the kitchen, his voice soft and caring but I don't hear the rest as we're out the door, practically sprinting to my car.
Liam kicks his legs, flails his arms, making it impossible for me to buckle him.
I force him down, something I'm not proud of but I finally get the last buckle clipped, speeding away as dad watches from the front door.
I know dad would never hurt Liam which even to me doesn't sound believable but he's dad's son. And we all know how much dad wished for me to be that son.
I hate my fucking life.
Liam wails in the back, kicking my seat as I drive back to our apartment, a fucking migraine staring to form.
There's blood in my palms from how hard I was clenching them earlier and the burns hurt terribly, especially since taking Liam out of the car, all he did was claw my arms.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I don't remember cigarette burns being this bad but damn, are they painful.
With Liam's bag and a wailing child in my arms, I can't get the fucking door open.
"Liam! Stop." He wails even harder so I set him down on the floor to kick and scream.
I'm on the verge of fucking crying.
I've only ever cried one other time in my life that I can remember.
It was when I found out Rhys left me.
Or at least I thought.
Because now looking behind my shoulder down the hall, there he is, approaching us.
I quickly wipe my teary eyes and turn to him, finally opening the door.
"Rhys? What are you doing here?" My voice is thick.
He raises an eyebrow at Liam who still sobs on the floor. "Kyla said you were going to be coming to the bar but you never showed so I thought I would come to you."
Oh, great.
I swallow, looking up to the ceiling to contain the tears.
"Uh-yeah. I got my hands full." I tilt my head towards the child.
He smiles, crouching down beside him.
"I can see that. Hey, Liam. Do you remember me from the other night?" Rhys asks softly, grabbing ahold of his shoulders to try and turn him.
"I want to go back to Dad's! I hate you Maeve!"
Liam screams at the top of his lungs, more tears trying to flow at his words.
Rhys frowns, glancing up to me before turning his attention back to Liam.
"You don't mean that. Come on, show me your trucks."
Liam stops crying, sniffling up at Rhys with snot spread all over his face.
"Where are my new ones?" Liam asks me like he didn't break my heart multiple times today but he's young. Doesn't understand the meaning of those words.
"In your bag." I say weakly, my arm fucking throbbing.
Rhys throws a weird look in my way as I step into the apartment, throwing my keys on the counter and walking to the couch, my feet dragging behind me.
How the hell does he still have so much control over me? I moved out of that house at seventeen with Liam.
I dropped out of high school to take on three jobs to bring in some money and moved in with Ava who was just starting college. Her family is definitely on the wealthy side so thankfully, I didn't need to pay rent considering Ava's parents bought her the apartment.
I've never been apart of my father's life. Just a punching bag he could use so he wouldn't touch mom but she deserved it.
So I start crying in front of the person who broke what was left of my heart almost seven years ago.