Chapter 2: Parents of the Year

!!!! **** WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATERIALS THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND DISTRESSING! SUCH AS VIOLENCE, CHILD ABUSE, DRUG ABUSE, ALCOHOL ABUSE, AND TALK OF SE.XUALLY ABUSING A MINOR! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED! **** !!!! ******************************** Feral's P.O.V. ******************************** ~ Nadine: Age 8. Feral: Age 15 ~ ******************************** "Are you genuine, Calix?" I told her yes. I told her I was the most genuine. And I meant it when it came to her, but it was still one of the biggest lies I'd ever told. But I guess I always do that with Nadine. Lie. Because lying to her means that she smiles the way a kid should smile. And that smile lights up rooms. Telling her the truth would put that look in her eyes. That dead look she gets when her parents fight. The look I see in her eyes sometimes after she leaves her house. Like all the light inside her was snuffed out. But it's easy to get that spark back in her. Nadine don't need much. She's probably the lowest maintenance girl I've ever met. She's happy with crumbs of attention and it breaks my heart. She's not even hit double digits, and she thinks that if a person is nice to her, it means they care. Because her parents were never nice, and they never cared. At least they weren't as bad as my parents. Where I come from is hell. Nadine has her brother and the rest of the club to help look after her, and Shooter and Julia don't hit them either. I had an older brother, but he was nothing like Kaizen is to Naddy. My older brother was almost worse than our parents. And the moment he could, he abandoned me in that hell-hole. Which is why I lie to this sweet little girl. Because I know that she'd cry for me if she knew how rough my life has really been. If she knew what I've done, what I've had to do, she'd never look at me the same. Plus, it would be a lot for a kid. I'd never tell Nadine any of that. I want her to stay sweet and innocent for as long as possible. "Why I feel safe with you." When Naddy said those words, something I'd never felt before filled my chest. It felt really good. Like I was on top of the world. Like I was worth something. Like maybe, I wasn't a piece of sh.it like the rest of my family. And then something really bad took over all the good. Just like it always does. This was familiar though. It was panic. Raw and terrifying. I was suddenly worried about how Nadine would feel if she ever found out about my past. About the things my parents made me do. Being a drug mule, stealing, hurting people. Nadine would hate me. And... I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to me if I couldn't get patched into the club. I couldn't stop wondering what would happen if I lost the only place that ever felt like home because I wasn't good enough to become a brother. I tried to brush the thoughts off as Nadine chatted away. She's always like that. I usually like it. It's usually distracting. I just listen to her yammer on and everything in my head goes quiet. She brings me peace. She puts all my demons to sleep with that light inside her. It's refreshing. Today, it wasn't working though. So, I made an excuse to go back to the club. It was getting late. I'm sure Nadine was hungry. We'd been at the lake since before lunchtime, and I was sure that her mother hadn't fed her breakfast. It was a perfect excuse. I could see the reluctance in Naddy's eyes, but she plastered a smile on her face anyway. I know she hates being home. Kaizen has been spending more time at the clubhouse instead of their house now that he's getting older. He may be two years younger than me, but he's always acted old for his age. Except when it comes to ladies. He's smooth, and now that he's figuring out what to do with them... he's not home as much. It leaves Nadine either all by herself, or there with her parents fighting. Well, I guess that her mom's always there no matter what. As far as I know, Julia doesn't work. She rarely shows her face around the clubhouse anymore. Instead, she just sits at home doing god knows what. I don't think the two of them talk much either, and I don't blame Nadine. I've watched Kaizen practically raise her himself because Julia and Shooter are sh.it parents. At least they don't beat their kids though. I'd fu.cking lose it if either of them ever laid a hand on Naddy. I couldn't imagine a reason to hit a sweet thing like her. Of course, I can't imagine why anyone would want to dull her shine either, yet they do that daily. "You want to have dinner at the clubhouse?" I asked as we walked through the club gates. "Uhm, no, I'm just gonna go home," she replied, holding her arm in that way that makes her look guilty. That's the second lie she told me today. Naddy never lies. To anyone. Why is she suddenly doing it now? "You got food at home?" I asked, raising a brow in suspicion. "I'm sure I'll find something," she said as she turned around, refusing to meet my eyes. "Good night Calix." "Good night Sunshine," I mumbled under my breath. She was too far to hear me now. Part of me wanted to run after her and make sure she was okay, but I wasn't sure it was any of my business. I care about Naddy. She's more than just my best friend's little sister. She was family. She was someone I wanted to protect. But I also wasn't always sure what my place was in her life. Kaizen told us all to watch over her, but I had no reason to believe anything was wrong. Just a gut-feeling. So, I blew out a breath and went into the clubhouse. I had dinner with my best friends. We talked about girls, snuck a few beers from the cooler out back, and huddled up in the common room. The twins were telling us about Jinx falling onto some girl at school and how they both went tumbling to the ground. Apparently it was hilarious, but my mind was elsewhere. On Nadine and that look on her face when she turned around to walk home. Like she was already prepared for something bad. Like all the happiness and sunshine was drained from her in an instant. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. "Calix!" I looked up to see Shooter standing in the doorway. "Something wrong?" Kaizen asked with a clipped tone. Shooter shot him a look before sighing and shaking his head. "Your parents called. You gotta go home," he told me. "Hell no he doesn't," Kaizen argued. "He can stay right here. f***k them." "Kaizen, I'm not arguing with you about this again," Shooter stated sternly before looking at me. "The day you turn 18, you never have to leave again." With that, he left. Reluctantly, I headed home. I dragged my feet, not giving a sh.it that I stumbled in late into the night. It was going to be bad no matter what time I got back. The fact that they had to call the club meant that they noticed I was gone. And that is never good. I hadn't even made it two steps into the tiny shack we call a house when I felt my father's fist hit my face. I stumbled back and chuckled. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and looked my father in the eyes. Dmitry Pavlov has never been anything in his life. Nothing more than an alcoholic and an abusive piece of sh.it. He can't keep a job, blows through money, who.res his wife out to pay for his addiction, and beats his kids. We don't look much alike. The only thing I got from him was a strong build and my dark brown hair. Other than that, I look just like my mother. Not that it matters. She's just as bad. Maybe even worse in a way. Because she never fought back, never spoke up, never did anything at all. Not only did she take the abuse, but she let it happen to her children. And then she became just as bad as the monster she married. Kenna Pavlov was much younger than her husband. She moved here fresh from Scottland, hoping to find a promising career. Instead, she met my father. The Russian a.sshole who took control of her life. So much so that he even forced her to learn Russian. He refused to let us speak any other language in his house. We learned English through school, neighbors, and bits from Kenna. It was fu.cking hard, but we managed. I have no idea what my mom ever saw in this man or why she married him. My earliest memory is of my father beating me while my brother smiled and my mother watched with dead eyes. I was four years old. I'd heard stories that my mother had a promising future, but that's all long gone. Her family doesn't even talk to her anymore. Or me. They gave up on Kenna, and that meant they gave up on me too. I never met anyone from Dmitry's family. As far as I knew, they were all back in Russia. I can't blame Kenna's family for cutting her off from their lives. She was an addict and needed help that she refused to get. Kenna wasn't always like that though. Not when I was really young. She became that way after her failed suicide attempt. That was seven years ago. I was the one who found her. After school. I was eight. Nadine's age. God, I could never imagine Nadine having to find one of her parents like that. "You little sh.it!" Dmitry yelled at me in Russian. "Where the hell have you been?!" I laughed and shook my head as I shook my shoulders out. "I've been gone for almost a fu.cking month. You just now noticed?" I retorted. "We speak Russian in this house!!" he screamed, slapping me across the face. I sighed and rolled my eyes, earning another punch to my face. This time, he grabbed me right after and kneed me in the gut. I fell to my knees coughing hard. But he needed to get one last kick in, sending me fully to the floor. "You disrespectful piece of sh.it!" he shouted at me. "You've been spending all your time with that fu.cking club! You been working for them, haven't you?! I know you have money! Cough it up, boy!" I coughed up some blood as I looked up at him. "I don't got no money," I replied, this time in Russian, like he wanted. "I don't work for them. They just let me stay there." "And why the f***k would they do something like that?" Dmitry spat. "Because they're decent people," I spat right back. "But I can see how that would confuse you, Father." "Why you little-" "Let it go, honey," Kenna said softly, coming up behind him. "I got a couple of clients tonight. We'll be fine." "This little sh.it needs to earn his keep! It's time he helped us pay bills," Dmitry argued. Earn my keep? Right, because they weren't sending me out to rob their dealers when I was in elementary school. Or to get their drugs for them. Or take drugs to trade for other drugs. They've forced me to lie, steal, and rip people off. Like they had me just to use me. Of course, that sh.it got harder to do the older I got. It was one thing when I was so little no one batted an eye at me. Now it's different. I laughed as I got to my feet, wobbling slightly. "You two don't even pay bills," I said, laughing more. "This is like the fifth house we moved into this year." "All the more reason for you to pay," Dmitry spat. "I ain't paying you sh.it," I stated. "You can kick me out." "Kick you out?" Dmitry repeated, laughing like it was a damn joke. "You think we'd just let you go? Why would we do that when we can sell you off? You think your mother here doesn't know people who'd love to buy a night or two with a young teenage boy?" My blood ran cold at his insinuation. I looked at Kenna, but she didn't look bothered at all. In fact, she looked high as a fu.cking kite. "Or we can sell your organs," Dmitry added. "Whatever makes us more money." "You'd really sell off your own fu.cking son?" I asked, completely disgusted. Although, I shouldn't be surprised. Of course, they would. If I didn't start forking over some cash soon, I was either going to be ra.ped or killed. If I ran away now, they'd know I'd be at the clubhouse. I could get the club in trouble. I've got to do what I need to for now. I just need to survive and continue to prove my loyalty to the club. I have to get out of this place no matter what it takes.