And it probably wasn’t fair to hit her that hard. She saw where I had been. The beautiful house, the loving family. And now back here to this. Maybe this would bother her when she tried to sleep, but I was tapped out. I had to face a lot tonight, and she was the last door I had to close before I gave up all hope of anything working out with my foster family, until at least I was eighteen and legally allowed.
I wasn’t going to run away. I wasn’t going to try to get in trouble and be taken away again. It was a six-month sentence, and I had to pay for it. Maybe being Bruce’s flesh and blood came with this price.
She offered me a handshake and reassured me she’d be in touch.
“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” As she walked out the door, Bruce tried his luck, clapping me on the shoulder.
“That a boy. We’ll be just fine.” I bent my elbow and snatched his wrist, closing the door before turning to him.
“What happens when you beat a kid his whole life? Then you insist he comes back to you and he’s a head and half taller and can punch you out every goddamn night?” I flicked my hand to get rid of the contact.
“Gaze, I’m your father.” He looked bewildered. The power dynamic in this relationship had shifted wildly.
“At least you have one thing going for you. The rest is a pile of shit. Where’s Pixie?” I headed back to my room and he followed me.
“So this is what those rich assholes taught you? To be disrespectful to me? To curse at women? Look at all this stuff. They buy you, boy?” Bruce was working himself up to a lather.
I spun on him and took him in. The details that my subconscious registered from when I was kid. His eyes were clear; his hands weren’t trembling. He didn’t smell bad. “You’re on the wagon? Maybe a year or so? Have you been past Tapps yet? When you were sad or happy or on a Friday? When you were mad at the government for taxes or angry at women for turning you down? Because the right combo of that will start you drinking again. You’ll never be sober. But here’s some fresh information—when you decide that the only thing that will cure your anger is ripping into me? You’re going to get the surprise of your fucking life. I might be more like you than you thought.” I pushed on the center of his chest and he stumbled backward. I slammed the door in his face.
This had me feeling everything and nothing. It felt like my last three years was a virtual reality headset and I just slipped it off my head and handed it to someone else. I didn’t want to unpack. I didn’t want to speak to Bruce. And despite my venomous words, I didn’t want to hit anyone.
I looked across the alley and saw movement behind the black curtains. Nothing was really defined. I waited for hours to see if the curtain would open, but nothing happened.
Chapter 36
Gaze
IT WAS THE sound of the city that woke me. It was crazy that the silence at the Burathons’ made me nervous at first, but my body adapted to the quiet at night. But now, the honking and the undercurrent of the busy urban life that I was in the center of was way too loud.
My bed was small. Damn. My feet and calves hung over the edge. I was an entirely different person than the last time I had lain in this same spot. My first thought was Pixie. I pushed myself up so I could see out my window. The sound outside was always accompanied by the lightness of her on my soul. Happiness. I walked over and pushed my window all the way up. After leaning on my forearms and sticking my head out, I saw that so little had changed. How had I walked across to Pixie’s that often? Five stories up was no fucking joke.
The thought of how Ronna would be if she was supervising Pixie and me crossed my mind. She would’ve never let the tightrope act go on. Thinking of Ronna made my heart squeeze, so I picked up my phone to see if I had any messages. Thirty-two. Thirty messages from the Burathons. Loving messages from Ronna and Mike. Hilarious ones from Austin. Rocket dressed up in a