NOTE: THIS EXPLOSIVE PERFORMANCE BY kaelking12 IS NOT ONE TO BE MISSED! TUNE INTO THE AUDIOBOOK TO EXPERIENCE THE CHAPTER IN A NEW AND EMOTIONALLY INTENSE WAY!

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Trigger Warning: This chapter deals with issues of domestic violence/abuse. If you or anyone you know is going through a similar situation please know that you're not alone in that experience and there are always people you can reach out to here if you need someone to talk to. Kristen and I are happy to talk anytime :).

CHAPTER 32

Elias

It feels like I'm not even me when it happens.

I slip out of the moment, out of myself.

Like I'm some fly on the wall watching a car accident play out.

Slowing.

Changing.

Realizing.

Far too late.

That real life playing out in real time makes itself known way faster than you could ever be ready for.

There's this high-pitched tension fading into and out of the silence. 

Filling the room.

Hanging thick in the air.

Robbing me of time.

It's two seconds too late for me to be worrying about the eggshells I'd been walking on ever since the front door flew open. Dad's iron grip shifts from from my wrist to my throat in the space of a second. I don't have time to react.

To escape.

To breathe.

He rams the slope between his pointer finger and thumb straight into my Adam's apple and digs his nails into the back of my neck. The force of it makes me dizzy and sick like I'm dropping from a hundred foot roller coaster and losing all the air in my lungs. Pain explodes inside and around my throat as he lifts me off the floor one handed.

I break into a full-on panic and stupidly grab at his hands, silently begging him to let go of me like begging will make a difference. But the person who's staring back at me isn't my father. He's someone else. Someone full of hatred and anger and so much disappointment. All of it aimed at me.

"What the hell do I have to do to get you to stop lying to me, Elias? You skipped out on class this morning, and now you expect me to believe that you're sneaking out of here to go to church?"

"Dad—"

"You shut up and listen to me. I work day and night to give you and your brother everything you want, and all I expect is for you to handle yourself in school—"

"—Dad, I can't—"

"—So when your teacher called me this afternoon to tell me that you're not only skipping class, but in danger of failing, I canceled my clients for the day because of you. We came to an agreement about this last semester, Elias, and after everything I've done to keep you in this school, the least you can do is hold up your end of the deal!"

"Dad!"

Tanner's voice completely catches our father off guard. It's firm, calm, and carefully controlled enough to draw his attention and anger away from me. The veins bulging around Dad's eyes ease up a little bit, and the softness that only belongs to Tanner comes to life in his face. His grip loosens just enough for me to breathe. Just enough for my feet to reconnect to the ground.

"You're here? I thought you had swim practice on Fridays. You should be—"

"I left early to take Elias to the event he's running late for. He's telling the truth, Dad. He's been looking forward to this all week so just—let him go, okay? Let him go."

Tanner barely makes a sound as he steps off the stairs and slowly approaches the two of us. I've never seen him walk with anything else but confidence, but right now, I barely recognize the way he's moving. His hands are raised in front of him, palms up like he's stepping into the middle of a war zone. I wish he knew that when it comes to him and Dad there are no land mines between them. He's safe wherever he walks. I've already stepped on the biggest one in the room.

Dad clears his throat all of a sudden like he's the one choking. His tie's sloppy and loose around his neck. No threat to his airways like he is to mine. But his skin's changing colors. From faded tan to dark red. I've never been close enough to see what shame looks like on him. It's almost the same color as mine.

The closer Tanner gets, the looser Dad's grip becomes. His attention's split between destroying me and saving face in front of his favorite son. The choice is easy, but he won't make it here. Not while Tanner's watching.

"Go back up stairs, Tanner. This is a situation between your brother and I. We can discuss things when I'm finished here."

"I'm not going anywhere until you let him go," Tanner says and just like magic his words change everything.

Dad's jaw ticks a good three or four times before he finally listens. He releases me, and I loudly gasp for air against my better judgement.

I don't wanna make a scene. I don't want Tanner to worry even though he's light years past the point of worrying. But my body has other plans. My lungs are convinced that coughing and sputtering like a broken engine is the only way they can get back on track. My legs have also decided that standing upright is no longer necessary or possible.

My knees hit the wood floor and Dad responds to the sound like he would to a break in. Like the sound of me breaking apart is an inconvenient interruption to his drunken train of thought. I'm too busy trying to breathe to lift up my head and look at him, but I know he's watching me. Staring holes into the back of my head all because I made a mistake at school that I shouldn't have. Because I make all the mistakes Tanner doesn't. Because I continue to exist in this world without his permission.

Screw his permission.

I rise to my feet, probably too fast, but there's a new wave of anger that's forcing me off the floor. Before I know it, I'm standing between my dad and Tanner, fists clenched, ready to do or say one of the million stupid things running through my head.

"Why don't you ever ask me anything?" I say.

Dad's eyes cut over to mine, but half the sharpness is missing. Guess that's the result of splitting his attention between what he loves and what he hates.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You never talk to me, Dad. You could've checked in. You could've asked me what happened instead of—"

I choke up, but the pressure and pain's not from his hands this time. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes while I try to push down the memory of this morning. I knew I was making a mistake when I skipped out on Mr. K's class, but I didn't have a choice.

Kev and Tyler cornered me first period. They paraded me around school just to make sure I'd track down the girls on the cheerleading team and make good on my promise to invite them. I did what they asked, so they'd leave me alone by lunch. Being dragged around by them made me completely miss my chance to talk to Lacey in person like I wanted to. Instead, I spent lunch buying off cheerleaders, so I could make it to church tonight. Now I don't know if I'm going anywhere at all.

"Don't you wanna know why I did it? Would you even believe me if I told you?"

Now that I've mostly blocked Tanner from Dad's line of sight, something between rage and restraint seeps back into his eyes again. He can react however he wants, but at least this time, I'll be ready for it.

He clicks his teeth at me and plasters on a two-cent smile that's about as genuine as he is.

"It's not my job to understand your motivations for being a delinquent. It's my job to keep you in line."

"By hitting me? I already got threatened with that this morning, and you would've known that if you'd asked. Do you think I missed class because I wanted to?! I had two guys from the football team threaten to kick the shit outta me the second I walked into school if I didn't do exactly what they asked me to. Tanner's not the only one with a target on his back, Dad! There are lots of people who hate me for the stunt you pulled with Trevor in the fall. So, next time you want to choke me out, try letting me explain things first!"

I'm shouting when I shouldn't be. I don't want Mom to hear. She's still in my room cleaning up after me like she always does. She's safe there. Safe behind her headphones and the wall of Spanish music that's keeping her totally unaware of this conversation. I want things to stay that way. I need them to because if Dad tries to pull her into this, I'll completely lose control.

"You're being extreme, Elias. I didn't choke you, I was putting you in your place. It's called discipline. You're lucky you weren't raised the way I was. You don't know what being hit means."

"And he shouldn't have to—"

Tanner steps in front of me with his arms outstretched, keeping me shielded from Dad's reach for the first time.

"—I don't care what you're pissed at him for, if you ever put your hands on him again, I'll be the one who puts you in your place, understand?"

Tanner sounds like an army. Like a wall of courage, and anger, and fear all wrapped up inside a single person. His voice is sharp, aggressive, and aimed directly at our father.

I've never seen them argue. Not even so much as a disagreement and I didn't think I ever would. But in the last few minutes the whole structure of the family has shifted. Nothing makes sense, nothing is predictable, and no one is safe.

Dad refuses to look at either of us for a long while. He just stands there in his wet clothes swaying on his feet, glaring at the floor in silence. Tanner straightens up and steps cautiously in Dad's direction, testing the waters.

"I asked you a question," Tanner says.

Dad looks up at him under tired, hooded eyelids like he's lost a fight.

"And I heard you, but I don't think—any of us are in the right state of mind to finish this conversation, so we'll discuss this later. If you wanna leave for your little church night, go. I don't want to stand in the way of you and your volunteering."

Dad shifts sideways, so he's no longer blocking the door. It's pissing rain outside, but I'd rather be out in the storm than stuck in this place. Tanner turns around and motions for me to stay behind him as he approaches our only exit. I'm careful not to make the mistake of breathing when I pass my father. My throat's still raw and throbbing from the pressure of his hands.

I try to force every messed up thought about what my dad just did to me out of my mind, but the memory's stuck on repeat. My whole body remembers. And it doesn't matter if thinking about this entire situation's making me feel so sick that all I wanna do is vomit all over my dress shoes and cry until I can't anymore. I don't have a choice in forgetting. I could empty every liquor store in San Diego, and it wouldn't drown out the things Dad did tonight.

But at least Tanner's here with me, protecting me from the hurricane of anger and violence that's raging behind my Dad's "restraint". If Tanner hadn't stopped him, he might've killed me. Josh could've too. But the difference between Dad and Josh is, no matter how bad things got between us, Josh has never wanted me to totally disappear. We keep our distance now, but neither of us have ever wanted the other person gone.

I don't think my dad's ever wanted me here in the first place.

"Boys—"

The unnatural calm of Dad's voice nearly steals all the air out of the room. Me and Tanner turn back around to face him even though neither of us want to.

"—shouldn't you say goodbye to your mother before you leave? You're driving into a storm. See her off before you go or else she'll worry."

If I didn't know my dad, I'd probably make the mistake of thinking that his concern about Mom was genuine. But I know a threat when I hear one. So I do what he says and call Mom downstairs even though this is the last place I want her to be. Even though my voice is tired, and broken, and so weak. I follow his orders because I understand what he's capable of doing if I don't.

Mom appears at the top of the stairs with her old school Walkman in one hand and a plate of churros in the other. I watch her eyes dart from Dad to Tanner and then finally find their way to me. I tell myself to look away from her, to stop quietly begging her to come down and hold me because I'm so close to falling apart. But instead of doing the smart thing and avoiding her gaze, I look right at her. And I know she hears me loud and clear from the way she flies down the stairs and catches me in her arms.

Her hands are full, but she still makes room for me. Like she always does. I bury my face in the slope of her neck and all I wanna do is disappear into her warmth, the wild cloud of her perfume, and the fierceness of her love.

But I can't.

I can't because Dad's watching, and I'm late, and I need to see Lacey, and I need to leave before something else terrible happens. I step away from Mom and do everything I can to force a smile, so she won't worry.

I could break down right here. I could open my mouth and tell her everything instead of staying quiet and closing the buttons around my collar to hide the red blotches around my neck. I could grab her by the hand, take her into the rain, and ask Tanner to drive the three of us to somewhere better. Somewhere safe.

But I don't do any of those things.

Because I know he'd explode.

Because I know he'd follow us anywhere.

Because I know I'm not enough to protect my family.

So, I silently ask God to do it in my place, whisper an exhausted "I love you", and follow Tanner out the door.

###

Once we're outside, I stare up at the rain, so my brother won't see me crying. He throws his arms around me and holds me steady 'cause he knows I need him to.

I wanna tell him how scared I was, how grateful I am, and how I love him more than anybody else for standing up for me. He's always in my corner—even when I push him away, even when I act like I don't need him to be. But tonight I needed him, and he saved me. He saved my life, and all I can do is stand here and fucking cry.

"I'm so sorry, Tan. I didn't—want this to happen. I didn't mean to make him upset like that. I didn't mean for any of this to—"

"I need you to listen to me, okay? You didn't do anything wrong, Elias. You didn't do anything to deserve that, nobody deserves that, you hear me?"

I do, but Dad's voice is louder in my head. If I hadn't skipped class, none of this would've happened. This situation is my fault—even if Tanner doesn't it want to be.

"I messed up, Tanner. I promised him I'd do better at school, and I'm not, so maybe this makes sense. Dad always makes sense. You heard him. He wouldn't have done that to me if I hadn't—"

"He was wrong. Everything about what happened in there was wrong, and I won't ever let that happen again. He's never going to touch you again. Not while I'm here. Not if I can—"

The sudden shattering of glass stops Tanner mid-sentence and sends the both of us sprinting back inside the house. Pieces of broken plate are scattered across the floor and Mom's Walkman is split in half, lying in front of us on the welcome mat.

My mind starts filling in the gaps of what I'm seeing in front me with excuses. A hundred nonsense reasons that would explain why Mom's on the floor, holding her bloodied hands in front of her mouth, crying.

I wanna believe that she fell. That this whole situation is an accident, and the reason my dad's frantically trying to console her isn't because he's the one who did this.

But then he apologizes.

He fucking apologizes and then kisses her head like the line between loving her and hitting is nearly invisible.

She's shaking like a little girl because of him, and he's holding her like he isn't the one who made her that way. He always screams at her. Always yells until she's broken and small. But he's never touched her.

Not until today.

And I can't take it.

Or him.

Or any of this.

So I snap.

The room turns red, and I charge Dad full on without thinking. Without having any idea of what I'll do once I get to him. But I don't care anymore. I just want him away from her.

I angle my body low, like a football player, just like Josh and Marcus taught me and send the ridge of my shoulder crashing into the side of my Dad's ribs. He lets out this strained whimpering sound, and for the first time in my life, he no longer seems invincible.

The force of the collision sends the both of us sprawling across the floor in a mess of arms and legs and aggression. I grab at his tie and pull it taut, so he understands what it's like to be at the mercy of another person. To feel small and useless and pathetic.

I tighten my grip while he chokes, sputters, and begs me to let him go. I ignore him, cock my arm back, and send fifteen years of frustration crashing into the side of his face. I hit him until his nose is red, bloody, and swollen, and, for a split second, I almost feel strong. Until my Mom turns all of my strength into weakness.

"¡Basta! Sé que eres mejor que ésto! No seas come él." (Stop! I know you're better than this! Don't be like him!)

Her words paralyze every muscle in my body, all the rage in my blood, all the poison in my veins—everything. I glance back at the woman who's always looked strong despite her sadness and see a shattered image of what she's supposed to be.

Tanner's lifted her to her feet, but she needs him to keep standing. Her hair's streaked across her face and stuck to the blood caking her swollen lips like she barely survived a storm. Her right eye's swollen. The shadow of a bruise is fighting to make its way through her tan skin.

I stare at her, at the mess both me and Dad made—and I lose it.

Dad inches away from me like a snake, and I let him because I have no energy left to keep fighting. I sink towards the floor, slam my fists into the ground, and scream until my voice breaks. The chaos coming out of me slowly transforms into my mother's name tangled between apologies.

I'm crying for her when I should be strong for her, but despite all of this, she still comes to pick up all my jagged pieces.

Her scent surrounds me faster than her arms do, and before I know it, she's holding me again. I'm crying like a child into the soft fabric of her dress, and she comforts me. She runs her hands through my hair and reminds me that I'm still a boy, not a monster. That I'm her son, not my father. That I'm not a mistake. She rubs her hands along my back to shush me quiet—but then, she stops.

She stops because the sound of my father's ten iron being dragged across the floor stops everything.

"Malcolm, please. Please don't—"

He shushes her, and I whip around lightning fast only to see my father with the handle of his golf club raised and ready to come down on the both of us.

"It's just discipline, Maria. He won't learn to respect me if he isn't taught. Let him go, sweetheart. I don't want to have to hurt you again."

I push my mom backwards and out of reach, stand up to block Dad's path, and brace for the hit.There's a swift muffled thudding sound and then the living room disappears.

Someone is shouting, but I can't understand them. The words are suddenly muffled and hollow like the whole world's underwater.

I reach up to check my ears, but I can no longer move. My arms are pinned at my sides. The rest of my body's locked in place.

I should be in pain. I should be broken or bruised a hundred times over, but instead, I'm surrounded by warmth and strength and protection.

I breathe in the familiar smell of Tanner's t-shirt, lift my head away from where he has it cradled against his chest, and stare up at him confused.

I expect to see him looking back at me, but he isn't. His eyes are tightly closed, and his body's rattling in time with the same thudding I heard earlier. His breathing's strange. Ragged and uneven.

Strained.

I open my mouth to ask him what's happening, to try to understand all the broken and chaotic sounds inside his body, but then a new one steals my attention.

Metal cracks against bone and suddenly Tanner's no longer able to keep us standing.

He's no longer strong.

The weight of his body sinks to the floor under the weight of Dad's golf club, and I sink along with him.

I keep saying his name, but he isn't answering. His body is heavy on top of mine, so much so, that I can barely hold his weight anymore. I scramble to keep his head upright in my hands—the way they taught us in first aid at the start of the school year. Secure the airways, protect the head.

I do what I was taught. I handle him carefully. Correctly. My palms come away warm and sticky. They didn't teach me how to handle this.

Tanner's bleeding.

He's bleeding everywhere, and I don't know what to do, and my Mom's screaming and scrambling over to the phone to call for help, and the whole world's falling apart.

But Dad is still. His shadow is still hovering over the two of us. Like it always has been. He drops his club next to me and whispers that all of those hits were meant for me.

That all of this is my fault.

He blames me over and over and screams at me to move out of his way.

To disappear.

To stop blocking him from reaching his son.

But I don't move.

I do what Tanner did for me.

I protect him from Dad with everything I have.

I hold him steady.

I hold him close.

And pray to God he won't slip through my fingers. 

Even if it's too late.

Even if he's hurt.

Even if all of this is my fault.

###

Thank you guys so much for reading & listening this week!  Next week's chapter should be up during the weekend unless stated otherwise! See you then!

#RealTalkQuestionoftheWeek

1. Have you ever had a family member or friend step in and save you/help you out of a bad/dangerous situation?