“I’m sorry if hearing about Kennedy and me hurt you, Amanda. You know I would never want to do that.”
She kept frowning. “Yeah, well, still hurt.”
I grimaced and skimmed my hand through my hair. “Listen, count yourself lucky. I’m an asshole. You’re better off without me.”
“I know that, Jax. I’m not stupid. It’s just…” Her voice lowered and she shook her head. “You never did that with me.”
“Did what?”
“Laughed. We never laughed together.”
“Sure we did,” I offered. There was no way we hadn’t laughed together. We’d dated for nearly two years—there had to have been some laughter.
“No, we didn’t, and you damn sure didn’t look at me the way you looked at that girl. I’m sorry for slapping you, okay? I just…that’s what I wanted. What you gave to her is what I wanted.”
“You’ll get that, Amanda. There’s someone out there who will give you everything you deserve and more. You deserved more than what I gave you.”
“Damn right I do.” She chuckled. “Anyway, good luck.”
I thanked her and headed to see Dad. Lately, when I arrived, he’d been in bed already. It wasn’t a good visit, and his mumbles were about how his kid was a fuck up.
“Fuu-ck up,” he said. “Ja-x fuu-ck up,” he kept repeating. I tried my best to ignore it, but when it became too much, I stepped out of his room, pulled up a chair outside of his door, and waited. I’d wait until he was sleep, then I’d read to him. Amanda noticed me and frowned, but I was glad when she didn’t approach me. I didn’t want her comfort. Seriously, I wished Kennedy was sitting beside me to give me that electric shock.
When Dad was asleep, I went back inside the room. He was looking weaker and weaker each visit, and I knew things were on the decline. I did my best not to think about it and read him the chapters for the night. I was getting close to the end of the novel, so I began reading slower.
Funny how I could have a wonderful day then leave the nursing facility feeling drained. Normally, after my visits, I went home or to the woods. In the past, I never wanted to be alone, but that was how I felt I had to be. Recently, I didn’t feel that same tug of loneliness, and if I was going to be alone, I wanted to be alone with her.
I pulled into Kennedy’s driveway and put the truck into park. I headed up to her porch and rang the doorbell. When she answered, she was already in her pajamas, looking beautiful as ever.
“Hey, you.” She smiled. “How was your visit with your dad?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I was just hoping I could hang out here for a bit because I didn’t want to go home tonight. My mind is moving a bit fast after seeing the shape he’s in, so I thought maybe I could crash here for a while.”
“Of course, Jax. You never have to ask.”
Before I could walk into her house, she was on the porch wrapping me in her arms, and for the first time in my life, I realized home wasn’t a place, it was a person. When I was lost that night, I ran away to Kennedy, and lucky for me, she let me in.
24
Jax
Thirteen years old
I wished Mom wasn’t at work.
I wished Derek wasn’t at football practice.
I wished I wasn’t home alone with Dad. I hated being home alone with Dad.
“For fuck’s sake. Would you stop shaking already? You’re going to scare the damn thing off,” Dad said from behind me. He steadied my hands on the gun. The deer lingered in front of me with its head down, eating something, maybe grass or a branch?
What do deer eat? Fruit? Berries? Do they eat as a family sometimes and carry food home with them? Or are they only supposed to look out for themselves?
“Steady your grip,” Dad hissed against my ear. His rough voice snapped me out of my thoughts. The deer looked up and hesitated for a moment. He stretched his neck up and started chewing on a twig from a tree.
Twigs! They eat twigs!
“Look at that beauty, Jax. That’s a solid white-tailed deer.”
My heart pounded hard in my chest, because the deer was a beauty—so why would I kill it? What had that animal done to me? Nothing. It didn’t look like it did anything to anyone. I looked up to Dad and saw how proud he seemed. I couldn’t think of the last time he looked proud around me, and I didn’t want to let him down.
Dad said real men go hunting, and I wanted to be a real man like him. Derek was off at football practice and Mom was working late at the diner, so it was just Dad and me at home in our woods. I wasn’t even sure we were allowed to hunt in June, but Dad told me it was his land so he was allowed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
My eyes focused in on the deer. It was becoming harder and harder for me to breathe. It felt like someone had put their hand in my chest, grabbed my heart, and promised to only let go if I made a choice.
Be a man or be a pussy.
The animal stood there, minding its own business as I stalked it in the shadows made by the bushes.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered, my shaking returning. It wasn’t fair. The deer hadn’t done anything. We had food in our house. We didn’t need it. We weren’t hungry. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t hungry… “Please no,” I softly said again, maybe to myself, maybe to God.
“Come on. Derek killed three all on his own last year. If you don’t do it, you can be damn sure you’re not going to camp later this week. Don’t be a little shit,” Dad said, threatening me with the one thing he knew would hurt me. I didn’t want to miss camp with Kennedy. I’d been waiting all year for it.
When the deer looked back down to the ground to find more twigs, I lowered my gun. I didn’t know if Dad saw it, but right behind the whitetail was a baby deer. Her doe eyes were wide, and she looked scared. My eyes filled with tears. I can’t do it.
“Fuckin’ A, Jax,” Dad said before lowering himself to the ground with his gun that was twice as big as mine, if not three times bigger. He zoned in on the deer. I felt my stomach flip and a nasty taste of vomit settled in my throat. I did my best to push it back down, swallowing hard. I stood and almost lost my balance from standing too fast. My eyes locked with the baby deer who seemed to be invisible to my dad. I shook my head back and forth.
I can’t!
I can’t let it happen! I can’t let the deer die!
In a panic, I started waving my arms and shouting. “No! Run! Run!” I screamed, the back of my throat feeling strained and sore. The deer looked alarmed and started to move. I jumped up and down, trying to flag it to run and never look back, but it was too late. Dad’s gun fired and the deer only made it a few feet before it fell over to the ground.
My eyes moved to where the baby deer was standing a few minutes ago. She was gone, now.
“What the hell, kid?” Dad yelled at me. He stood and slapped me on the back of my head. “Pack up your shit and wait here.” I listened to him mutter under his breath about me.
He walked toward the deer.
The dead deer.
The dead deer that Dad killed.
I bent over and proceeded to throw up my breakfast and lunch, and probably some of last night’s dinner. I hated this. I hated hunting. I hated the deer for being stupid and not running fast enough. I hated Derek for being better than me. I hated Mom for not being home when Dad dragged me to the woods. I hated Dad for not liking me the way I was. I hated myself for letting him down.