I turned my head as he raised his hand. With my arm glued to his palm, the blow would certainly leave a mark on my chin.
“Robbie?”
Shit, shit, shit.I would always rather take a beating instead of watching my dad hit my mom. It broke my heart that I couldn’t save either one of us from turningblack and blue. When she rushed into the barn, I knew his focus would turn to her.
“Leave us be, Susie. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“He’s just a kid, Robbie. Let him go, huh?”
His eyes turned dark, and he released me with a shove. I stumbled backwards until the wall stopped my motion. With my mom in his sights, he reached under his shirttail and backed away. For a minute I actually thought he would leave us alone. I relaxed for about two seconds before he brandished a small handgun.
BLOOD POUREDfrom her head into my lap as I held her lifeless body. Thick and warm, the fluid ran between my fingers, staining my jeans and shoes. In a fog, the scene before me was simply unbelievable. I tried to wrap my mind around what had just happened.
Not in a million years would I be able to come to terms with how my dad killed my mom. He pulled a gun from his waistband, pointed it at her, and mumbled something under his breath. An explosion came from the weapon, then my mom sank to the ground. It all happened so fast.
Her dirty blonde hair flowed around my legs as her empty eyes stared up into mine. She couldn’t be gone—just couldn’t. Absolutely no way could I believe she wasdead, I needed her here to show me how to live a good life. She promised she would never leave me.
“Mom, now’s not a good time to fall asleep. I need you.” I shook her and begged her to wake up. “Please. Mom.”
She turned her head—or did it turn because I shook her so hard? The exit wound became visible, and my stomach churned. Bits of sticky substance filled my hand. Bile rose up my throat when I realized it was her brain. I shuddered and just wanted to run away, but I knew if I showed fear or weakness, my dad would capitalize on his power.
“Shame suicide is so rampant in these small towns.” My dad’s voice reverberated off the heavy wood pillars. “Some people just don’t know how to handle life in the Pass.”
A puff of air beside my leg caused me to glance at the straw; he had tossed the gun. The same one he had just used to murder my mom. It was almost a tease; he knew me well enough to know that I would never find the gumption to use the firearm.
The first time he tried to teach me how to use it during target practice, I shook my head and backed away. Dad just shrugged and said, “If you want to be a pussy your entire life, fine. Suit yourself. Maybe one day you’ll listen to my advice and be a man.”
I hated using his guns when he made me hunt elk orbear.
“How sad that a mother would kill herself in front of her chubby little son. She found it impossible to be happy with all the things her husband provided. A beautiful piece of land, all the animals and tools needed to live freely—just like she begged me to give her when we got married.” He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Well, being a momma’s boy, I guess you have nothing left to live for, either. Why don’t you hurry up and kill yourself? Come on, now, just get it over with.”
Something snapped inside me. I literally felt reality shift.
Careful not to disturb Mom, I lifted her head, scooted from under its heaviness, and rested her on a pile of straw. “Shh … it’s okay. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you.”Why couldn’t I save you?
I reached for the discarded weapon, stood, and aimed. Dad watched my every move; right up until the moment I pulled the trigger.
Chapter 6
Kennedy, age seventeen—April 2005
COVERED IN fishguts, Cody sauntered down the dock toward the bench where I was sitting with his dinner. Even the slimy layer of goo on his jeans didn’t dampen the heat in my chest. His bangs fell into his face and covered one eye. He smiled and I melted.
He expressed how he wasn’t thrilled to spend his Spring Break week on a boat, but he was happy to see me. In no time, we had fallen right back into our routine. We spent every possible second together, which wasn’t nearly as much time as we wanted with both of us working now.
His dad’s fleet of fishing boats produced much of the seafood for Seward’s restaurants and grocery stores. Cody’s dad had spent the better part of a year getting his three Anchorage crews under control so they would be able to continue supplying fresh fish to the city and its residents.
Although Cody wasn’t allowed to go out with the captains on long trips until he graduated, his dad let him work the dock for experience with the fish and customers. Cody’s favorite crew worked on Miss Vera, named after his mother who had passed away three years ago. A freak accident, Cody said but wouldn’t elaborate.
King Crab season dominated Alaska in April and the Miller fleet capitalized on the expertise of their captains. However, one ship focused on non-shellfish. Cody began his work career, not his full-time life-long career, but just work in the Cook Inlet fishing for Pacific Cod.
“What’d you bring for me?” Behind long bangs, Cody winked at me. His smile gave me goosebumps.
Anxious to please my man, I had ordered food from a local restaurant. Mason’s Café by the Bay—Cody unloaded the majority of the catch for this restaurant—they had the best gourmet fish tacos around.
“Mason’s specialty. Only the best for you, babe.” I pointed to the styrofoam carton on the bench beside me and leaned forward. I didn’t care if he smelled like raw tuna, I closed my eyes, ready for a thank you in the form of a heated kiss.
“Really?”
