I Love You, Always Read online

  My cheek is killing me and I briefly shut my eyes as I rub my fingers over the lump that’s already forming under my left eye.

  “I am still your father, so yes, I get to decide a lot of things about you.”

  “You are NOT my father anymore, asshole, so why don’t you go fuck yourself!” I yell at him.

  I watch as something inside him snaps now. I know I’ve pushed him too far, but I just don’t care. He isn’t my father; I don’t want him to be.

  I see the fist clench at his side and his arm raise, ready to hit me again. It’s like watching it all in slow motion, and despite knowing I should move or try and defend myself, I drop my hands, lean my head back against the wall and smile at him. I smile right at him in a way that says go ahead Dad, you can’t hurt me anymore, so do your fucking worst.

  And he does.

  He doesn’t hold back, that’s for sure, his fist striking in almost the exact spot as before. The pain explodes inside my head this time and I’m pretty sure I hear something crack in my cheek. It’s hard to know what happens next though, because after the stars come flying at me, my vision filled with them, the whole room starts to go black. My head is spinning and suddenly I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep standing much longer. I wonder if he’ll decide to start kicking me instead, if I sink to the ground.

  But I don’t get the chance to find out, because just as the asshole’s fingers close around my neck and he pins me back against the wall, Jared walks in the still open front door.

  “What the fuck?” I hear him say and I can’t help but smile, despite what’s going on here. He couldn’t have dreamed up a better thing to say when he first walked in.

  “Luke, fuck, are you okay man?” he asks.

  I’m about to answer when I feel Dad’s hand get yanked away from me. Now that I’m free, I feel myself slide down the wall and collapse on the floor. The whole room is spinning and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna throw up in a minute.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” I hear Jared yell, probably with no idea who he’s talking too.

  “Mind your own business, this is between me and Luke,” my dad responds in a cool measured voice, as though the fact that he’s just punched his own child in the face, twice no less, is completely irrelevant.

  “Yeah, and this is Luke’s and my fucking house, buddy, so you can just fuck off.”

  I can’t help but laugh at how many times Jared has said the word fuck to my dad. I almost wish I was conscious enough to see the look on his face every time he said it. It’d be priceless, that’s for sure.

  “This isn’t over, Luke,” I hear him say before the front door slams shut, hard enough to shake the wall.

  “Luke, are you okay?”

  I can barely lift my head and my left eye has completely swollen shut now. I try prying open my right eye and can vaguely see a blurry Jared floating before me.

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “Bullshit, I think we need to get you to the hospital, dude, your face looks pretty bad.”

  “I’m okay,” I answer. “Just need some ice or something.” I try to sit up but the room does more than just spin and I can feel my stomach really trying to exit my body now. “Shit,” I murmur, sinking back to the floor.

  “Luke, seriously, we need to get you to a hospital, okay. Just wait there, I’m gonna call Ben.”

  I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to, but I also can’t go to the hospital either. “Jared,” I say, my voice hoarse as though I’ve been screaming.

  “What?”

  “Can’t go man, don’t have insurance.” My asshole father saw to that when I left home.

  I can see through my one good eye, a blurry Jared as he crouches down in front of me. “Don’t worry about that, okay. I’ll take care of it, but trust me, we really need to get someone to look at your face. You don’t want that pretty mug of yours permanently damaged.”

  I know he’s trying to make light of the situation and if I could laugh I would, but everything is really starting to hurt now and the sick feeling in my stomach is only getting worse. So I say nothing as Jared gets up and starts talking into his cell phone. I don’t know if I pass out or everything just speeds up, but in what feels like no time at all, suddenly Ben is in our apartment and he and Jared are trying to get me to stand up.

  “Are you alright, man?” I hear Ben ask.

  I try shaking my head, but the pain explodes behind my eye again. I’m gonna be sick any second and before I can stop it, I fall forward on to my knees and throw up all over the floor. Groaning, I try to push myself back up. “Fuck.”

  “Come on, dude, we gotta get you to the hospital. Ben, can you take him to the van and I’ll get him some water.”

  “Yeah, come on buddy, lean on me.” Ben says, hauling me up off the floor so fast the stars are back. I close my eyes to stop everything from moving and collapse against him, unable to protest about anything anymore.

  I don’t know how he gets me down to his van; I don’t actually remember the trip. The next thing I’m aware of is I’m lying across the bench seat in the back.

  “Here, I brought you a shirt too,” Jared suddenly says, tossing it on my stomach before cracking the lid on a bottle of water and pressing it into my hand.

  Grateful, I take a big mouthful without opening my eyes before slowly lowering my head back onto the seat. “Thanks,” I barely get out.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, jumping in the back and sitting behind me as he pulls the van door closed.

  I take another sip of water, the coolness calming my stomach a little and washing the vile taste from my mouth.

  “Luke?” Jared asks as I feel the van slowly move out into traffic.

  “Yeah?”

  “Who was that guy?”

  I wince as I try to rationalise in my head how I can possibly explain who it is, with what he’s just done to me. I don’t want to admit who he is, because I don’t want Jared to think I could possibly be related to that man. But I also don’t want him trying to get in contact with my family when we get to the hospital, not realising it was my own flesh and blood who did this to me.

  I take a deep breath before I answer him. “My father.”

  “Fuck.”

  I can’t help but smile at his response, and it’s the last thing I hear before I completely pass out.

  Track 21 (A side) - Battle Scars

  My regrets and mistakes

  They were always mine to be made

  Because they shaped the man who was never your creation

  And I’ll wear my scars with fierce determination

  ∞

  “You doing okay?” Ash asks, sliding into bed beside me.

  I roll over and face her, both of us lying on our sides, our heads sharing a pillow. “Yeah, I think so,” I say, not really sure that I am. I can’t believe how quickly today went from amazing, to complete shit. How quickly it all changed. So much for thinking everything was perfect.

  Her hand reaches out and lightly brushes over the top of my head and my eyes close at her touch. “You’re not curious about what he wanted?”

  I take a deep breath, my eyes opening. “Yeah, I guess a little,” I admit. “I mean there’s a part of me that wonders why he’s suddenly shown up now. It’s weird.”

  She smiles at me and I slide my arm around her waist, pull her closer. “He has no control over you anymore,” she whispers.

  “No,” I say. “I know he doesn’t and I think he knows that too. What happened last time, it…” I trail off as Ash’s fingers lightly brush over the scar I still have. It actually makes me smile as I realise we both have our battle scars. Marks inflicted on us by others, but which represent both our worst nightmares and also our greatest strength. Asha used to think she was responsible for the deaths of all the people she loved. When she made her choice to stop that, she took a bullet for me, saving my life. The scar she has because of it represents that, but it also represents the fact that Ash now fights
for the life she wants, which is a life free from the fear of losing the people she loves.

  I got my scar from my father, also my worst nightmare. But I got this scar because, for the first time in my life, I stood up to the man who had always controlled me. I stood up to him and I said no and I refused to back down, no matter what he did to me in response. My scar is a reminder that no one will ever control me like he once did.

  “What happened last time was awful,” Ash says, her fingers still brushing over my scar.

  I smile at her, my hand sliding to the scar on her hip as I lightly stoke my thumb over it. “I know, beautiful, but it’s not going to happen again,” I whisper. “I’m done with that man. I’m done with thinking about him, listening to him, or giving him any more of my time.”

  She smiles back at me now. “Good,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss me. “You don’t need him in your life anymore.”

  I lean forward, pushing her back on to the bed so I can roll on top of her. “I know I don’t,” I say, my lips against hers. “But I do need you, Asha.” I feel her smile against my mouth as her hand slides around to the back of my neck, holding me against her. This is what’s important in my life now. Not him, not whatever he came here to talk to me about. The only thing I care about is this woman lying beneath me, the other people in this house, and getting this album done so we can get the fuck out of this city.

  That’s it.

  “Luke,” Ash murmurs, still kissing me. “You’ll talk to me if you’re not okay, won’t you?”

  I pull back a little, see the worry in her eyes as she looks back at me. Brushing the hair back from her face, I cup her cheek with my hand. “I’m okay, Asha,” I whisper.

  “Promise?”

  I lean in and kiss her lips again, silencing any more conversation between us. I don’t know if I can make that promise.

  It used to be nightmares of what happened to Ash that woke me up in the middle of the night, but now it’s thoughts of my father that stop me from even going to sleep. When I lived at home I always slept badly, but the minute I left, that changed. It was as though getting away from him and this fucking city lifted whatever burden it was that caused my insomnia. It was a relief when I could finally sleep through the night. But like a fist to the face, his return has brought back my insomnia and I once more find myself lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and remembering all of the shit I used to put up with.

  Asha is asleep beside me. A part of me wants to wake her up and talk, but I don’t. I know I should, it’s what she asked me to do, what she wanted me to promise I would do. But she needs to sleep because we always go to bed so late and even then, neither of us goes to sleep for ages. And really, I don’t know what the fuck I would say to her anyway. I’m not entirely sure what’s stopping me from going to sleep now. It’s like one visit from him has undone years of relief at being away from him and I’m not really sure how I am supposed to deal with that. Or explain it. But, I do know I can’t lie here staring at the ceiling anymore. I’m restless and I’m going to wake her up in a minute.

  I slowly slide out of bed, careful not to wake Ash as I unwrap her arm from my waist. Pulling on a pair of sweats, I quietly open the door and head downstairs. The house is in darkness, everyone obviously sleeping. I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with water and drinking it in one hit. Taking a seat at the counter, I rest my head in my hands and wonder what the fuck I am supposed to do with the fact that my father has found me, again. And what the hell his visit was really about.

  “You look like you need a drink.”

  I look up to see Pete walking into the kitchen. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I see it’s after three in the morning. I’ve only been sitting down here for ten minutes.

  “Yeah, possibly,” I answer as he reaches into the fridge, grabs some beers and hands me one. He takes a seat on the counter across from me, twisting the cap off his own beer and throwing it into the sink. “Can’t sleep?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Never really can. You either, huh?”

  I shake my head, running my hand over it at the same time. “No,” I say shrugging. “I used to be able to, once I got away from this place. But apparently not anymore.”

  “Sure it’s this place?” Pete asks, causing me to look up. “Might have more to do with the fact that he showed up today.” I shrug, knowing it’s probably a combination of the two. The two things always went hand in hand anyway, and together they only seem to magnify the problem. “Were you sleeping alright before he did show?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I admit. “I mean, since we’ve been here, I’ve been sleeping okay.”

  “There’s your answer then,” Pete says, taking another sip of his drink.

  “Fuck,” I breathe out, as my head falls into my hands. I know he’s right. This place has nothing to do with it. It’s all him, it always has been. When he’s out of my life I’m fine, but now that he’s back, I’m clearly fucking not. “I thought telling him to fuck off would stop all of this…” I trail off, waving my hand around the room as though that will explain what I mean.

  “Shit?” Pete suggests.

  I lift my head and look at Pete who’s staring at me as though it’s all so obvious. “Yeah, shit,” I say, taking another sip of my drink.

  “I’m thinking it’s probably had the opposite effect,” Pete says. “And that none of this is going to get better anytime soon.”

  My fingers are picking at the label on my bottle, tiny pieces of shredded paper falling onto the kitchen counter, which I push into a pile. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I eventually admit.

  “Which means you’re going to need to find some way to deal with it,” Pete says. “Before it eats you alive, Luke.”

  I run my hand over my head, down my face, knowing he’s right, but having no clue as to how I’m supposed to do that. “Yeah.”

  “And you should be talking to her about this too,” he says, gesturing behind me with his beer bottle.

  I turn and see Ash walking towards us, her hair a mess and her eyes still half asleep. “Hey,” I whisper as I slide my arm around her waist and pull her against me. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  She buries her face in my neck but I still hear her whispered, “You were supposed to.”

  I squeeze my arm tighter, letting her know that not only do I know this, but that I’m not trying to shut her out her either. Glancing up at Pete, I see him watching us, taking all of it in.

  “You can’t pick your family, Luke,” he says to both of us. “But you can pick this,” he adds, nodding at Ash.

  I take a sip of beer. “I know,” I say. “But I don’t really consider him to be family anyway, not anymore.”

  “He’s still your dad you know, whether you want him to be or not.”

  I take a good look at Pete sitting on the kitchen counter. He’s sipping on a beer, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He’s covered in tattoos, they’re everywhere, all over his chest and back, down both arms, and he’s pierced in both nipples and God knows where else. He looks like he should be one thing, but I know from years of friendship, he is the complete opposite to every stereotype you’d label him with. He is nothing what anyone in the street would peg him to be. I bet if even half of them got a look at what was underneath, they’d be shocked.

  He’s a fucking good guy though, always has been. He’s also never met my dad and he’s never going to, but I do know what he’s trying to tell me. I exhale loudly, taking another sip of my beer. “Maybe, but it’s only by blood and really, I don’t consider him to be my father, not after what he did to me.” I feel Ash’s lips against my neck now and I pull her onto my lap, glad she’s here and hearing all of this.

  “Do you hate him then?” Pete asks, genuinely curious.

  I down the rest of my beer and watch as Pete jumps off the counter and grabs three more from the fridge. “Yeah, at times I do. But most of the time, I just wish he’d disappear from my life for good.” I take the beer
Pete hands me, glancing down at Ash, as she takes the one offered to her.

  “He’s not a part of your life now, Luke,” she says, before taking a sip. “You don’t have to let him be a part of it you know.”

  “Yeah, I know, beautiful,” I whisper, glancing back at Pete again. He’s looking at me in a way that suggests what I’m saying is crazy. “What?” I ask him. “It’s not like you get along with your dad.”

  Pete finishes off his first beer before opening his second. “No, it’s true, I don’t.”

  “So how can you live with that, seriously? Why the fuck do you even keep trying with him when he so obviously disapproves of everything you do?”

  “And everyone,” Pete says with a touch of bitterness.

  I watch as he sits back on the counter, pulling one foot onto it. I know he won’t mind these questions, because it’s not the first time any of us have ever brought them up with him. We all know Pete’s dad hates his lifestyle. He hates the fact he’s gay and he hates his relationship with Steve, even though they have been together for five years now. He hates all the tatts and he especially hates the fact that Pete has quit his job and moved to L.A. to be with Steve. I have no idea why he would even bother speaking to a man who treated him like that. No fucking idea.

  “Pete?”

  I watch as he takes a long sip of his beer before turning to me and saying, “Because at the end of the day, he’s still my dad.”

  Ash exhales loudly against me and when I glance down, she’s staring at Pete. “Yeah, sure,” I say, wishing I’d never brought this up. “But he hates who you are, how can you be okay with that? How can you be okay with your own father not liking who you really are?”

  “I’m not,” he says seriously.

  “Then why do you fucking bother, Pete?” I ask, confused.

  I watch as Pete jumps off the counter now and walks around to where we are sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. He takes a seat beside us, turning so he faces me. “Because, Luke, I am who I am anyway. If he doesn’t like that, it’s his problem, not mine. But I’m still being me and he is still my dad.”