Trent (Redemption Romance Book 4) (10 page)

It had taken me a while, but after the days of father-son bonding, I began to see him in an entirely different light. Thankfully when the festivities had gotten really advanced, he retreated to his own room – with Amy of course – so I hadn’t had to see him in
that
light. I could only imagine him watching me and critiquing my lack of style it or something.

By the end of the trip, I had done everything, with each of the assistants my father had brought on the trip. Sometimes one on one and sometimes, not. I felt dirty and disgusting after that week. Unable or unwilling to say no, but knowing what we were doing was so beyond wrong, I'd been changed forever.

I started to see the real man, behind the image he portrayed. He wanted the high life. To be top dog, to do whatever and whomever he pleased, whenever he pleased. Unfortunately, he was just an asshole.

That experience opened my eyes to something else too, though. I finally opened my eyes to see my mother. She had been docile, amiable - always, but she had begun to draw into herself more and more as the months progressed. A couple of times, I saw a red mark or a bruise on her. She always had a ready excuse, but I began to wonder if my father was marking her if he was hitting her.

I grew quickly and steadily through high school and by the time my junior year rolled around, I was taller than my father by at least two inches. A few times he tried to be domineering toward my mother and even once toward my sister, but I got in the middle of it quickly, diffusing the situation and he’d backed right down.

For some reason, it was important to him, that I respect him. He wanted me to like him and to look up to him. Of course, I didn’t, not anymore. I hadn’t let him know my true feelings. That had been the only thing I had to hold over his head, my approval.

Late, one Friday night, I pulled up in front of our ridiculously ostentatious house, turned off my mint condition sixty-nine Camaro and looked up at the mini-mansion.

I sensed that something was wrong, though I had no idea what it was. Nothing was out of place, of course, my father wouldn’t allow that. It was quiet, which it should have been, it was almost two in the morning. There was an ominous feeling in the air, I couldn't put my finger on it, but something unsettled me.

I had been planning to stay over at a buddy’s house since it would be late and I’d probably be buzzed. The football game had been about forty miles away, so by the time we got back, and the party started, I already felt off. I couldn’t get the feeling out of my mind, so even after my girlfriend tried to get me to take a walk with her, I explained and cut out.

Opening the front door, I moved quietly. I slipped off my shoes, so I didn’t wake anyone if they were asleep and to keep anyone from knowing I was there. I heard it, something, a breath. I didn’t know what it was, but I heard something, just a whisper in the air. I walked toward the family room at the back of the house, where I stopped in stunned silence. I stayed in the shadows so my father couldn’t see me, but the images before me stopped my heart.

Backing up, I pulled the phone from my back pocket and walked on silent feet toward the other side of the house. I quickly made the call so that an ambulance and police assistance would be on the way, disconnected and walked back into where my father stood looming over my sister. My mom was laying on the floor, battered, but awake. My sister sat on a wooden kitchen chair in the center of the room.

When I cocked the pistol I had grabbed from the small, hidden compartment in the entryway table, my dad froze and spun around. I didn’t speak, couldn’t speak, but when I caught the look of relief wash over my sister’s face, a sense of utter guilt filled me. I knew my dad must have been at this a while. Natalie was in her pajamas, but she looked wide awake. I had no idea what had caused Dad to pull her down here, to make her sit in the uncomfortable chair in the middle of the room for who knew how long, but there was something seriously wrong.

Obviously, he had hit her – a lot – and mom too. Both of them had fat lips, and various swollen bruises and eyes, cuts and probably plenty more. At that moment, looking down the barrel of a loaded gun aimed at the heart of my father, a man I’d once idolized, I had to wonder how long this had been going on and why I hadn’t seen it. Why hadn’t I stopped it?

It would have been so easy to take him out, to pull that trigger, but I would wait, I would find a way. I could force myself to wait for the police. Thankfully I had already called them.

“Mom, are you okay?” I asked, not taking my narrowed eyes off my father’s shocked ones.

He straightened, but still had a look of smugness and superiority on his face. Did he think I was bluffing? I wasn’t some helpless little boy, even if I hadn’t been holding the gun, I could have overpowered him. I was taller, stronger and younger than him.

“Yes, honey,” she replied hesitantly.

“Nat, you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Her voice was quiet, hesitant and scared as hell. She had been quiet for a while, if I’d taken the time to think about it, I’d realize that she’d been getting progressively quieter over the past couple of years since she'd become a teenager.

“How long has this bullshit been going on?” I asked the room at large, not sure I was going to be able to handle the truth.

“Son,” my father warned.

“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted at him, wanting to pull the trigger so bad. Instead, I kept myself together and lowered it. “Go, stand over there and put your hands on the back of the couch so I can see them,” I commanded him. He glared at me but complied when I raised an eyebrow and nodded that way.

“Mom, how long has this been going on?” I asked, putting as much compassion into my voice as I could.

“Trent, honey, let’s talk about this later, okay?”

My lips tightened. I was frustrated. I wanted to know what had happened, and when it all started, wanted to know just what the prick had done. I knew that none of us were ready for any of that. I did my best not to take in the rip on the side of my sister’s pajama shorts, I didn’t know, but I doubted that the tear had been there before. I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

I felt my blood begin to boil again if he’d put a hand on her like
that
I didn’t think I’d be able to stop myself from killing him.

“Nat, can you walk?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my father.

“Um, yeah, why?”

“You and mom go wait in the front room, the police will be here soon.”

“What the fuck have you done?” My father shouted, his face turning red as he realized that he was fucked. This shit was over, for good.

“You bitches better keep your fucking lying mouths shut – you hear me?” He shouted as my mom and sister shuffled out of the room.

“You need to shut up now, Dad,” I said the last with so much venom and sarcasm, I saw him flinch. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it, that I ignored the man he was.

We stood, staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move, neither of us did until the knock came at the door.

“Mom, make sure it’s either the police or the paramedics, then let them in,” I called. I had always been the one to take charge in difficult situations, though this one was about as extreme as I’d ever experienced.

My father began to move, like he was going to run, “don’t you fucking move, asshole.” I snarled at him, having set the pistol down near me, I leaned toward him, ready to grab him and hold him if I had to.

“Stop this nonsense, Trent. You are overreacting. You’re just upset, hear me out, you’ll understand.” He pleaded like it was reasonable for him to hit my mom or my sister.

“You’re a pompous bully, and that’s it. I’ve hated you for a long time, I've known what kind of man you really are, and I can’t stand the sight of you.” I told him, watching his skin pale under my harsh words.

My father was arrested that night, and after months of him pleading innocent, police investigations, and court proceedings, he went to prison and was out of our lives. Unfortunately, during all that, I discovered just how much I’d failed my mom and my sister, he’d been hurting them both for a lot longer than I realized and in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined.

I had a feeling as the years passed that the there was more about Natalie that I didn't yet know. Father had been careful not to leave marks previously, but apparently, that night, he’d lost his mind and his control when my sister had stood up to him.

The regret washed over me, as I walked up to Mom’s house and met one of the officers who was walking toward me. “Carter, right?” I asked the young deputy I’d met only once or twice.

Nodding, his head in acknowledgment, we shook hands, and he led me to the back of the house, where the door had been kicked in.

“I understand that you’ve made contact with your mother, is that correct?” He asked.

“No, I talked to my sister and found out that Mom is taking care of an elderly family friend tonight. She hasn’t answered her phone, so I assume she’s asleep,” I explained as my good friend Justin walked up, then Gavin rounded the corner.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” I asked, a fair amount of worry and speculation in my voice.

Gavin’s face was serious when he slapped my back and moved toward me. “The commander called us in, just in case. There isn’t anything to worry about, we haven’t seen anything aside from the door.”

With a relieved breath, I started to look at the area around me, searching for that elusive hint, that thing that would tell the story. There was almost always something, and if I were quiet, if I could focus and look closely enough, I’d see it.

After the night my blinders finally came off, and I saw the truth around me. The ensuing months learned just what I had missed. After that hard hitting lesson and lifetime full of guilt, I trained myself never to miss anything again. Unfortunately, I’d failed many times over the years, but I still tried every day.

Standing on the sidewalk, leading into the back yard, I examined the gate. It was always locked with a padlock that I’d personally bought and put on. Now, it was standing open, no lock. Looking around, I searched the ground for it, cut and lying in the gravel or on the flowers, with no luck. I asked Carter about it since he and Mackenzie were the first on the scene. He confirmed that it was standing open, just as it was now, and that they hadn’t touched it. I asked Justin to print it for me since I knew he would do it correctly.

I was sure that Carter and Mackenzie were good officers, but they were both green, there was no way I’d risk the information I needed to keep my own mother safe, to them. The area was generally safe, though I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that anywhere was absolutely secure. Usually, if a house were selected at random, it would be the one with the least amount of resistance and the least risk of detection.

Mom’s house had motion detector lights, a pretty decent alarm system and secure gates to the back yard. There wasn’t an easy point of entry to her house, as I’d replaced all the deadbolts with better ones and there wasn’t any good cover near the house.

Walking through, Gavin stayed near me, knowing the way I did things. He scanned too, pointing out obvious oddities. There were a few broken branches on a nearby tree, an area of trampled grass next to the back patio and obviously, the kicked-in back door.

I called my sister back, assured her that Mom wasn’t at the house and told her what I’d found. I asked for the address for Mrs. Madison. Heading over there, I knew I needed to pick Mom up so that she could confirm that nothing was missing or displaced, but hated waking her in the middle of the night.

Thankfully, Mrs. Madison was all right to stay alone for a while, so mom followed me back to her house. After looking around, she didn’t notice anything, until we’d made it into her office.

On top of her desk was an open file folder. I had seen it but didn’t pay any attention to it, since I had no idea what Mom would have had out before leaving the house. The file contained a copy of grampa's will, including the trust fund information for Nat and for me.

Since my dad hadn’t ever owned the family company, when he went to prison, the board elected a new CEO, and the board continued to manage Harper Oil to this day. Mom now had a seat on that board, as the sole heir, she was the owner of course, but didn't work in the office daily.

Even when my father had gotten out, and tried to get back into the business, he hadn’t been able to. On paper, everything had always stayed in trust, for Mom, Nat and me. Dad had earned his salary, but that was all. He did make a lot of money and though he’d squandered a lot of it, he’d never been able to get his hands on Mom’s money. Though he'd worked for Harper Oil as CEO, he'd never been in control of the ownership, no matter how much he'd longed for that power.

Nat and I both received the first part of our trust funds at eighteen, another portion at twenty-five and the rest would be doled out at thirty. I was determined to join the Marine Corps after graduation, something I’d never regretted. So the money I received was invested and stayed in the bank. When I got the money at twenty-five, I bought my truck and my condo but hadn’t done anything else with it.

With my birthday fast approaching, I knew the last chunk would be released to me, though, I had no plans to do much with it, either.

At some point, I’d like to buy a house for Amber and me to live in. It wouldn’t be ridiculous like the mansion where I’d been raised. I’d hated that house, it was all show and not much else. I wanted a real family home, even if we didn’t have a family to fill it.