When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(96)
Neither of us has said anything about the accident since that day after her doctor’s appointment in the parking lot. We didn’t need to and that’s how our relationship has always been. That’s what makes it work at the end of every day. We may not be perfect and we are more than likely going to make mistakes along the way but we get each other. Some people live their whole lives looking for what we have.
Kennedy walks me out to my car after we finish dinner with her parent’s. She always does this when I go to leave. I don’t know if it is because she won’t settle for a simple peck on the lips and she wants one last earth shattering one or what? Either way I don’t mind. We always sit outside for a little while just to talk. It’s my favorite part of the day.
“Are you ready for your appointment tomorrow? You’ll get to schedule your surgery at least,” I asked kissing the back of her hand.
“Yeah, it will be nice to get it out of the way and start recovering. Hell, maybe I’ll be able to dance at the talent show next year,” Kennedy smiles at me knowing that is just what I need to hear.
“I love you, Kennedy.”
“I know you do and I love you too.”
I leave her sitting on the swing as I pull out of the driveway. I wave to her as she gets up to head inside and drive home. Being blissfully wrapped up in Kennedy all day, I managed to forget to call my mom to let her know that I wasn’t going to be home for dinner. I must have left my phone in car. There are three missed calls. Being only a few minutes away, I don’t bother to call her back. Whatever she needs can wait until I walk in the door.
Pulling in the drive way after the short drive I park my car in my normal spot. The garage door is open and my father’s SUV is inside serving as a warning of what’s waiting for me inside.
I walk through the garage door that connects with the kitchen. Standing over the stove refusing to look up at me is my mother. It’s eerily quiet in the house.
“Mom…” I call walking closer towards her where she’s standing stirring something in a small pan. She looks up at me. Gasping I see a huge bruise covering her left cheek that’s clearly fresh.
“What happened?” I demand an answer from her trying to keep my voice down. Hopefully he’s already passed out.
“Where have you been, son?” My father’s voice fills the kitchen. I feel him behind me.
Son? It doesn’t sound the same coming from him as it did Mr. Conrad.
That frightened me.
“I was at Kennedy’s studying and having dinner,” I turn to explain hoping that he’s still sober.
“You selfish little prick,” he spits out with anger. I guess being sober is out of the question. He’s close enough that I can smell the…bourbon? Looks like good ol’ Dad is switching things up these days. “You fucking call next time you plan on not being home for dinner.”
I don’t know what I’m thinking before the words come out. They have their own agenda. I quickly regret them the moment they pass through my lips.
“Why do you even fucking care, Dad?” I yell in his face.
His face turns this unnatural color of murderous red. My dad is seeing blood and I’m in his eye line. I take a second to glance over where my mom’s still standing by the stove to see her holding a spoon with her eyes the size of saucers. She knows just as well as I do what’s about to happen.
I turn back towards my father. He throws the first punch followed quickly by the second. There’s no chance to dodge his fists. My right eye begins to swell within seconds after the first contact. That’s the problem with having a dad who still works out. He’s just as strong today as he was twenty years ago. I can feel the stream of blood falling from my face. I must have fallen to the ground, as I try to stand up to get my bearings I feel his hands on my shoulders shoving me back against the kitchen island. He slugs me once more in the face for good measure. The tile is cold on my skin as a fall over. There’s a temptation to lay my face down on the tile to help with the swelling. I know if I do that I will be at his boots disposal.
“John, stop it. Now,” My mother yells in my defense. He steps over me to get to her. While I’m trying to catch my breath I hear a loud snap. I turn to see my small mother barreling over holding the side of her face. I know he’s drunker than normal because he tended to avoid bruising her face. Since he already released his anger on her earlier, what’s the point in avoiding it now? That last hit will leave a lasting mark.
Once his back is turned heading out of the kitchen I get up from the ground searching for my mother who is slumped over on the ground pressed against the stove. I see the tears that always find a way of breaking my heart a little bit more every time I see them fall.
“Mom, are you okay?” I ask gently. She looks up gasping at what is probably the poor condition of my face. “I’m fine, but are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she mouths. I let myself believe that she is because I don’t want to be in this house any longer. I can’t stay here. Deep down I know I shouldn’t be leaving her here alone. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?” she asks before I walk out of the kitchen towards the garage door.
“Don’t tell Dad. I’m going to Kennedy’s for the night. I can’t stay here. I’m sorry, Mom.”