“Why are you staring at me? I can feel it. I don’t know how you stand to look at me after what hap–happened with Franco.” Her bottom lip trembles but she keeps her eyes closed.
I’m glad her eyes are closed, she can’t see the flash of anger that passes over my face. But it’s not because of her. It’s all for my father. My fucking father. I can’t trust him, I don’t think I have for a long time. He’s not who he used to be. The phrase in our family always was blood is thicker than water but his blood is looking pretty mucky these days. He’s going to pay for what he did to Tillie. He touched my property. It pissed me off more than Dom did. For some reason, I don’t have the urge to kill him, maybe spill a little blood but nothing compares to what I want to do to Franco.
I do want to kill my father.
“Look at me,” I demand, grabbing her chin as she squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers when my touch becomes painful.
Wide, chocolate brown eyes gaze up at me with unshed tears
“It’s not your fault. It’s his. He could have stopped it, Tillie but he decided to play into Payne’s sick game. Franco has a motive for everything and he wants your fear. He can control you that way… don’t give it to him okay?” I’m speaking from experience, I have the scars from his belt on my back to prove it even though most have faded over time.
“Dad?” I walked into his office, his head bent over the desk as he looked over papers and a glass of dark liquid that smelled strong in his hand.
I wasn’t allowed in his office when the door was shut or when he had guests over. The one man in dark suits and scary, cruel slanted eyes always came over. Ever since Mother passed away, he’s been in my dad’s office almost every day.
I don’t like him. He stared at me with a face that could have been made from stone but his dark green eyes made me scared to enter my dad’s office. He’s a bad man, I wasn’t sure how I could tell. It could be the quiet way he sat on the couch, observing everything with calculating eyes. He’s the kind of man you ran from if you happened to bump into him on the street.
“What do you need, Logan?” Dad looked angry at me for interrupting but I couldn’t get rid of the lady at the front door.
“There's a lady in the living room wanting to talk about Mom. She said she works for, uh, the times?” I tried to remember what she said but it’s hard to pay attention to anything.
I miss my mom. She’s all I could think about. It’s been six months, but it felt like just yesterday that she was murdered.
“I’ll get rid of her.” The man stood from the couch and buttoned his suit jacket as he walked to the door but he paused in the doorway to look back at my dad. “I would suggest teaching him now while he’s young, Franco. Discipline makes them loyal and stronger.” With that being said, he walked out the door and shut it behind him.
I stood there before my dad’s desk, watched as he tossed his drink back, and slammed it on the table after he finished it. He looked at me for a while, his expression almost sad before he hardened his features. His lips tightened at the edges before his gaze narrowed on me with a look I never had seen on him before. He always used to laugh but that went away just like my mom. He stood and walked around his desk while unbuckling his belt and snapping it from the loops as he stopped right in front of me.
I wanted to back away, but instead eyed him warily because he was scaring me. Why did he look like my dad but didn’t at the same time?
“Things are changing, Logan. Jin is right. I’ve been letting you get away with a lot lately but it’s time you learn that you can’t stay a child forever. It’s time to grow up. Turn around and take off your shirt. You won’t move or make a sound. Is that understood?” His words were harsh and low, meaning he meant every word with his voice deep with authority.
I didn’t see any other choice. My dad was all I had left and he needed me. I silently took my shirt off and presented my back while my whole body shook in fear.
This was my chance to prove that I’m not a kid anymore, life taught me if you're soft even at a young age… those around you die. You can’t protect them if you're not a grown man.
“This is just the beginning, son. We are all going to make them pay, but first, we have to toughen you up for this new life of ours. First rule. Don’t ever talk to reporters,” Dad said with a hand on my shoulder then he stepped away with a squeeze.
It was silent until I heard a sharp sound through the air and a loud crack. Then there was blistering, hot pain across my back. My body jerked forward, and I caught myself with my hands on the edge of the desk and heaved for breath from the agony.
“Again. Sit up straight,” my dad said in a hard, empty voice.
I shook my head and gritted my teeth as I sat up again. The second hit was worse than the first. It felt like my back was set on fire. I bit my lip so hard as I held in a scream that blood filled my mouth. It went on and on that eventually, the strikes along my skin went numb. My back was so straight that when Dad dropped his belt on the floor, my shoulders hunched forward as silent tears ran down my cheeks.
“First rule, Logan?” he questioned from behind me, his hand once again laying on my shoulder.
“Don’t talk to reporters, Franco,” I rasped out, breathing hard and wincing when he squeezed my shoulder before leaving his office without another word.
I collapsed against the wood floor, gasping through the pain.
I also realized something very important. We are never going back to how things used to be and my dad wasn’t Dad anymore.
He was Franco.
I shake myself out of the memory, feeling like my back is burning with the old memories. Franco stopped beating me with his belt once I learned that I was strong enough to stop him the older I got. That’s when I became a man in his eyes and he started trusting me to take over some of the business side of things. Like killing a man at age twelve.
Tillie’s been gazing up at me for a long time in silence as I was lost in thought. Her eyes are so expressive that she wears her emotions on her sleeves. Pain, fear, and lastly, determination.
“Okay.” She nods her head slowly and her shoulders relax gradually. “But, Logan… you can’t hurt me again. I need you to prove to me that you won’t turn cruel the moment it strikes you. No more. I can handle some pain physically, and to be honest, I enjoy that part of you but emotionally I can’t do tha–that. No secrets or lies. Promise me.” She has a desperate tone in her voice, like the smallest movement and wrong answer from me will break her.
