Snow Flakes (Burnt Ashes #0.5) (5 page)

“Dad, don’t!” I shout, running up behind the man who I have had to call my father since birth. He is standing there, the bat held up above Chace, who is leaning against the mini fridge.

“You two need to learn some fuckin’ respect!” he yells, about to bring it down in a final arc.

The door opens, and the scuffling of feet can be heard as two figures come swooping toward the bar. I can’t take my eyes off the scene that may be about to play out before me. I feel as stunned as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Put it down,” a familiar voice says. “You need to think things through.”

“Don’t you tell me what to do.” He raises the bat, and Chace recoils, using his arms to cover his face. There is a sudden
oomph
, and I close my eyes. I just can’t watch. The sound of something dripping on the floor is all I can hear. I didn’t hear the savage
snap
or
crack
, or the wet and heavy
thud
from impact, but that might have been because I didn’t want to.

“Sam, get Chace outta there now!” the voice cries.

Slowly, I open my eyes and see my dad wiping his face on his sleeve.

“Fuckin’ no good kids. Fuckin’—” The scent of scotch is thick in the air. I still can’t will my legs to move.

“Trey,” the voice snaps. Trey hops over the bar, and stands between my dad and Chace. His arms are out to his sides, making himself as big an obstacle as he can.

“Don’t do it, Batman!” Trey shrieks, as the other figure helps Chace over the bar. As the shock starts to wear off, I realise that the mysterious figure can only be Braden.

“Braden, I…,” I start to say, but my head feels packed with cotton. I just can’t seem to snap back into reality. It feels like I am watching the whole thing from a distance.

“Sam, get away from him.” Sluggishly, I start to move, my body nearly completely unresponsive.

“Gonna teach you boys,” my dad says darkly. “Come ’ere, son. Come and get your lumps.” Gooseflesh erupts up my back. I feel like I want to scream but can’t.

“For fuck’s sake, Sam!
Move
!” Trey yells. I slowly look between my old man and Trey, and feel utter fear.

“Watch, boys,” my dad says, still wiping something out of his eyes as he marches toward me. “You know better, right, son? One and done.” A chilling smile spreads over his face. “One and done.” This time, it’s just a whisper.

One and done
... It was what he used to say to my mom, when she was around, when he took off his belt, but there would always be more. One was never enough to satisfy his hunger. He would say the same thing when he went for my mom…until it drove her away, leaving me behind. Did she think he’d stop if she wasn’t around? Well, he didn’t.

My dad is on me, his face contorted into a grotesque mask.

“I deserve this,” I say quietly to myself. “I deserve th—”

“Snap the fuck out of it, Sam!”

I am rocked by a sudden startling impact. A blast of pain erupts across my face, my jaw feeling unhinged. I fall to the floor in a heap, shards of broken glass digging into my skin.

The blow is enough to snap me out of my reverie. Colours start to seep back into the world. My face already feels swollen and bruised. I turn around and snarl at who dished it.

“Braden?” I say, stunned. When the hell did he get here?

“One and done, son. One and—” My dad swings the bat for Braden, who is holding a hand out to help me up. I lift my feet and land a kick to Braden’s gut, sending him out of the way. The bat glances off his shoulder, instead of his head.

“Now we’re even,” I say to Braden, standing up.

“Fuckin’ punk kids. No good fuckin’—”

“Give it a rest already, Dad,” I say, brushing some of the broken glass off of me.

“Who the fu—” He makes a move toward me with the bat again, but I grab hold of it before he gets the chance.

“Stop,” I say, feeling less terror and more pity for the man who I call my father. His grip loosens, because of the liquid running down his arm, and I wrench the bat free, throwing it over the counter.
His arms fall limp at his sides.

I turn from him and start to walk away, heading for Braden. He is trying to move his shoulder.

“You all right?” I ask.

He nods and smiles wolfishly. “I’ll live.”

Then his eyes widen. I can feel my dad’s presence just behind me. Trey grabs hold of him, trying to hold him back as my dad begins to kick and swing wildly. There is an almost wooden
clop
sound, and my old man falls to his knees.

“Huh…,” Chace says, looking at his hand. He is holding a whiskey bottle. Trey releases his grip, and my dad slumps to the floor.

“What the fuck was that, Chace?” Trey asks. “That sounded brutal.”

“It was a bar fight, right?” Chace says. Trey nods, his brow furrowed. “I thought the bottle would shatter and he’d pass out…you know, like in the movies.”

Braden pushes past me, kneeling beside my dad. “He’s still breathing,” he says a moment later. “We better get him to a hospital.”

“One with padded walls,” Trey says.

“Let’s let the cops decide,” I say. I take the bottle from Chace and swig a mouthful from it. I then hold it out to Braden, who does the same.

“You sure you want to get them involved?” he asks and I nod.

“I should have years ago…”

“What do you want to do now?” Braden asks.

“You still have a seat open at your place for dinner?”

“Man after my own heart!” Trey squeaks. “Ya knock out your old man, then go grab something to eat. What a man.”

“Fuck off, Trey,” I snap. The little prick is growing on me.

“Hey,
I
knocked out the guy,” Chace pined.

“Nope. I ain’t having it,” Trey says. “Honestly, Chace, you get one shot to make an impression, and you fuck it up. You can’t even hit a guy over the head with a bottle without it going balls up.”

“Says the guy who wanted to cuddle him. What the fuck were you doing with your arms out like that?” Trey and Chace continue bickering like a married couple, even as Chace heads into the back to get changed.

I head behind the bar, looking for a dustpan, while Braden moves about, setting some of the tables and chairs right.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, beginning to help me with some of the broken glass.

“Probably not,” I say. “Honestly…” I let out a sigh. “No matter what, I still couldn’t bring myself to hit my dad.”

Braden thinks about it for a couple of seconds before answering, “I am pretty sure that’s a good thing.” I look up at him, arching a brow. “It means you’re nothing like him.”

“Of course not…,” I say, barking out a little chuckle. “I can hold my liquor.”

“All right, boys! Dinner’s ready,” Mac says from the dining room.

We all shamble in, beers in hand, and take our places around the table. Everything looks awesome. It must have taken her ages to set up the table, let alone cook all the food. It’s a large rectangular table, covered in a claret-coloured cloth, snowflakes embroidered on it. Each place setting has been made up with polished cutlery, as well as mats on which to place our beer. The food looks superb, too, and by that I mean it doesn’t look burnt. Mac looks exhausted, and I can see why. She takes the seat next to mine. I don’t know what I should say to her, if anything.

“Everything looks great,” I say, offering her a smile. She lets out a long sigh, as she nestles deeper into her chair.

It takes a moment for her to look around and register everyone here. “I didn’t think you were coming,” she says to Trey.

He gives her a dazzling smile. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he says. She narrows her eyes at him.

“His folks weren’t in,” Braden explains.

“I thought he got arrested,” Mac says.

Chace chokes on his mouthful of beer. “Trey was arrested?!” Braden nods gravely. “How’d you get to Sam’s then?”

“Braden bailed me out,” Trey says with a wink.

“So that bruise across your face that makes you look like a raccoon… That wasn’t from…?” He stops. I heard what had happened, but Mac and Lola hadn’t been told yet. Trey shakes his head. Our eyes drift to Sam, who looks like he’s smiling to himself about something.

“How about we take turns saying what we like about one another?” Mac says. I roll my eyes. “I’ll start.” She gives me a bittersweet smile. “I like how Logan looks in women’s clothes.”

Trey and Chace start hooting with laughter. I level an evil glare at them, but they only laugh harder.

“Okay…,” I say, standing. “I also like how
Mac
looks in women’s clothes…” I smirk at her, and can see her cheeks flush a little with colour.

“I like how Braden smiles,” Lola adds. Christ, I had almost forgotten she was here.

“Uh… I like how all of us can be here together and laugh like this after one messed up morning,” Braden offers, looking at Chace.

“I…uh… I like that you guys are all here for me,” Chace adds.

“Gaaaaayyyyyyyyy,” Trey yells. We all have to fight off a snigger from his outburst.

“I also like how Trey gets arrested for B and E in his own home,” Chace says, smiling at him.

Trey acts like he’s shocked. “Bitch! Okay, okay… I have one,” Trey says, standing. “I like how ladies have tits and vaginas.”

“Like you’ve ever seen any that weren’t on the Internet…,” Sam adds. At this, we all laugh at Trey’s hurt expression.

“I like… I guess I like how you are all my family, my real family. How family should be, ya know?” Sam says stoically. Trey actually looks a little choked up at this, but it could have been from his earlier jibe. Braden claps Sam on the shoulder. He’s right. We
are
a family. A fucked up one, sure, but we have each other’s backs when it counts.

“I think we should also say thanks to Mac and Braden,” I say, raising my beer bottle. The others follow suit. “To Mac and Braden. Braden for opening his home and bringing us stragglers together.”

“Here, here,” the others say.

“And Mac, for opening your…” I make sure to leave an uncomfortable pause. “Kitchen.”

“Pervert,” she mumbles.

“Only for you, angel.”

“Can we eat, or do we have to watch you two ogle each other?” Trey asks. Braden answers him by picking up a rather large knife, gesturing to me with it, then beginning to carve the turkey. What the hell did he mean by that?

“Guys, I got it!” Trey shouts as Braden places a piece of meat on his plate. “Our band name!”

“Tell us then, fucktard,” Sam quips.

“We should be called the Dirty Birdies!”

“Go to hell…,” Sam groans.

“Okay, okay… What about Trey and the Other Dudes? I think it cries indie rock.”

“Just shut up and eat, Trey.”

“Okay…okay… Please don’t hit me, Daddy!” Trey says. Braden, Chace and Sam all freeze. “Too soon?” he asks, a little sheepishly.

Sam gets up and makes a move to dive for him over the table, but I catch and restrain him before he can. Braden chooses to ignore this, carrying on serving the turkey. Mac and Lola look terrified. Chace is too busy giggling like a school girl to help.

Braden sets the carving knife down, satisfied that everyone has enough for now, and pinches the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “Would you pass the potatoes, please, dear sister?”

                                                      THE END