could really fucking do with that right now.
Pulling myself up, I step inside and look around my dank, disgusting surroundings. This trailer was always a shithole, but right now it's even worse than ever. The smoke only masks the smell of piss that seems to permeate the air as I step farther inside, making my stomach turn over.
Despite the fact that I'm expecting to find someone, the sight of Warren's dad slumped on the couch still startles me slightly.
"Whar ya doin..." he slurs at me, the cigarette in his hand dropping to the floor as his eyes find mine.
"How could you?" I fly at him. My fist clenches in his dirty wifebeater as I pull him from the couch and get right in his face. Although I regret it the second he breathes out and I damn near heave at the stench of his breath. "You're fucking scum, you know that?"
He shrugs, lifting his bottle that he's managed to keep hold of in his hand. It collides with the few teeth he's got left before the majority of what he tips out dribbles down his chin and onto my hand.
"You fucking knew what he was doing to her, didn't you, you piece of shit."
"His girl, his business."
"Motherfucker," I roar, pulling my arm back and slamming my fist into his face.
His legs immediately give out, but I'm not letting him out of this that easily. He can't sit by and allow that shit to go on under his roof.
His nose shatters, covering both of us in blood, his eyebrow and lips split open, but I don't stop. I can't. I'm lost to the beast inside me that has been begging to get out since I learned the truth. This might be the wrong cunt, but it's as close as I'm going to get until I find his motherfucking son.
Eventually, I let him drop to the ground, but only so I can take care of his ribs. I kick him over and over. To start with, he grunts in pain, but after a while he falls silent.
It's not until a car backfires outside that I manage to emerge from the haze I'd lost myself in and back away from his body.
There's some shouting, I have no idea if it's directed at me, but I don't hang around to find out. Without knowing if he's dead or alive, I run from the trailer, jump in my car, and speed out of there in the hope that no fucker who gives a shit saw me.
I feel more relaxed when I pull up at home, ignoring the guilt gnawing at my stomach. Cole's car and Ace's bike both sit in the driveway. I look up at the house, wondering what my chances of getting inside unnoticed are.
On a normal day, I'd say high, but while I'm covered in that cunt’s blood, something tells me that I'll be spotted.
Fate for being a total fucking fuck-up.
I lock down images of Kenny from earlier. I couldn't deal with that back then, and I certainly can't right now.
Taking my chances, I get out and march toward the side door in the hope that I can slip inside unnoticed.
"Conner, is that you?" Ellen calls out the second I'm inside the house.
How'd she do that?
"Yeah, I'm just going for a shower."
"Okay, sweetie. I've made cookies."
My stomach growls at the thought and I run up the stairs, hoping that if I'm quick enough they'll still be warm.
Voices sound out from Cole's bedroom, but I slip into the bathroom before anyone emerges.
Ripping off my blood-stained, sweaty clothes, I turn the shower on as hot as it'll go and step under the spray.
It burns the second the water hits my skin, but I don't turn it down. I deserve the pain. I need the pain.
Tipping my head back, I let the water rush over my face, hopefully washing away the evidence of what I just did.
The image of his lifeless body pops into my head, but I push it away. So what if it killed him? Motherfucker deserved it.
But while that may be true, killing his father is a sure-fire way to get Warren out of hiding.
Reaching out, I rest my palms on the tiles and let the water rain down on my back.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to forget about him, but instead images of Kenny come rushing back.
I can see her sitting astride my lap almost as clearly as if it's happening right now. I picture the way her tiny hand