TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) (13 page)

Why the fuck am I the last one to hear about the rumors involving me?
Is Chelsea really pregnant?
She is on birth control. Well, at least she told me she was.

I’m starting to see her true colors, and they aren’t all rainbows and sunshine. Every time we are out together, she makes sure it’s posted on Facebook or Instagram, and I’ve had it with the damn selfies posted everywhere.
Is it all for popularity status?

I actually had feelings for her at one time. But that’s in the past now. Her fakeness is oozing all over everything. I might have a reputation for being a womanizer, and sure, I love the ladies, but some of them who are claiming we’ve had sex are lying.
I just haven’t called them out on it. 

Let the world think what they want. Fuck them. Fuck my father who will never be proud of me. Fuck the haters who are jealous. Fuck Tyson, who is the golden child.

And screw that new chick in my science class who won’t give me the time of day.

She has these dark brown almost black eyes and short spiky blond hair—her style is funky. I think she is grunge. Her three piercings in one ear are hot, and she is nothing like my usual type. But normal is becoming boring.
Chelsea is boring, and a little scary, but still boring.

If I end our relationship, will Chelsea become the psycho ex that I’ve heard about? Maybe I should wait until after prom and exams.

Don’t be gutless, do it now
, my subconscious is telling me. The longer you leave things, the worse it gets.

First thing first, I’m buying a pregnancy test and making her take it.

“So what, it was just a little fight,” I tell Mom when I arrive home from school. Today really sucked. Damn teachers, do they really have to call your parents immediately?
I mean it was a stupid fight, and there was no blood, so it was nothing major.

“Come on, Tommy, you can talk to me. This is your first real fight. Is someone hassling you at school? Did you stick up for one of your friends?” Mom asks me trying to get to the bottom of my out-of-character behavior.

“No, it’s none of those things. Marco is just a loser. He tripped me on the field, and I lost my cool,” I tell her honestly, forgetting the part about me mouthing off to him first.

“Your teacher has noticed that you seem more aggressive in class, and your coach agrees,” Mom states, and I have to agree with her.
I’m feeling a lot of pent-up anger, frustration, and isolated lately.

“They are suspending you for two days, Tom. That is not something little. They obviously think the suspension is the correct punishment, so why don’t you?” I just shrug my shoulders. I don’t have any answers right now.

“Well, you will be coming with us in the morning since we have a meeting with your principal, Mr. Arnold, at ten.” I cringe at the thought as I know Dad will be coming
. It’s going to be a nightmare
.

“Okay, I will be ready,” I tell her feeling anxious. Our new principal is cracking down on a lot of things and fighting is one of them.

We all make mistakes. God, I’m only human, but I’m constantly compared to my older brothers. Tyson hasn’t gotten in a fight on school grounds.
Now, he has another one-up on Tyler and on me…

I’m fourteen, not ten. Why do they treat me like I’m breakable, like I’m still in diapers? I’m not allowed to go to parties, which is so unfair. Some days, it feels like no one understands me. God, I hate being the youngest. I get called squirt, small fry, and runt. Some days, the only thing that keeps me going is Mom and her kind words.
I’m so lucky to have her—we all are.

Her words ‘I love you Tommy,’ and ‘You were the last, but my most amazing creation,’ and ‘I had three tries to get the perfect son,’ is exactly what I need to hear. Mom tells me these things frequently.
Even if it’s all bullshit, I love her words. I need them to boost my confidence.
It’s true what they say, sibling rivalry is a bitch.

Fourteen is a frustrating age, but it totally sucks living in the shadows of Tyler, the best quarterback and womanizer in Indiana, and Tyson, the king of perfection—the guy is incredible.

Another thing confusing the shit out of me are girls! They are becoming so much more interesting and hot, but I can’t talk to Mom about them. Tyler is all about trying to score, and well, Tyson just has his first girlfriend now, so what would he know?

Speaking of that, damn Brooklyn is getting hot. He is damn lucky he snapped her up before someone scooped her up first.

****

“You get your ass in the truck, Thomas James Caine!” Dad shouts angrily.
Here we go.

I cringe at the sound of his angry voice and run cowering out to the truck. I hastily climb in, buckling my seat belt. I didn’t mean to keep them waiting; we have plenty of time to get there, it’s just Dad and his usual over-the-top intensity.

Mom turns around to look at me and smiles slightly. Her smile, even though it’s small, helps to calm my nerves just a little.

“Now, you keep your mouth shut in this meeting, Thomas. It's ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir.’ No smart mouthing like your brother, got it?” he states to me.

I nod.
He really thinks I’ve gone crazy and turned into Tyler.

Well, sure, the thought has crossed my mind. Let loose and live a little—I could handle running around and having fun. But with Jimmy Caine as your father, you gotta have balls of steel for that and going head to head with him is not on my bucket list. Ever.

We arrive early and walk up to the front office. I’m dressed in my black dress pants and pale blue shirt. These clothes are usually reserved for court, weddings, or funerals.

We sit anxiously in the waiting room. Jimmy is bouncing his knee looking agitated. I think back to last night. He was drinking rum. I went to bed when he started arguing with Mom.
I’ve learned to put in my headphones and listen to music, so I don’t have to hear them.

It’s just too much for me sometimes. The more I hear him treat her like shit, the more I feel angry, and those thoughts are not healthy. Is it normal for a teenager to wish his father was dead? To wish he would just stop all of the hostility.

So the headphones are how I tune out. I don’t like my options.

“Mr. and Mrs. Caine, Mr. Arnold will see you now,” the receptionist announces to the three of us. I swallow the lump in my throat, a little unsure of what to expect from this meeting.

We make our way into his office. “Thank you for coming today, Mr. and Mrs. Caine, Thomas. Please take a seat,” Mr. Arnold tells us as we all sit.

“Now, we know we are here because there was a fight with Thomas and another boy. I’m new to the school, but I take fighting and bullying very seriously,” Mr. Arnold states to us all.
Bullying. Is this guy for real?

“I have spoken with Thomas’s teachers and football coach, and they have said he is becoming more aggressive in class, during physical activities, and even at football practice,” he adds, and I can practically see the smoke swirling in Dad’s ears. He will lose his cool either with Mr. Arnold or with me.

“We are suspending Thomas for two days starting tomorrow. Now, unfortunately, that will mean missing two football practices too,” he continues to add salt to my wound.

“Can I please say something?” my mother questions Mr. Arnold. I see Dad’s eyes widen in shock. He does not like it when she is vocal.

“Of course, Mrs. Caine, go right ahead,” he replies smiling at her request.

“Well, I’m sure you know that this is Thomas’s first misdemeanor. He has an impeccable record, and he is a good kid. Why is he getting such a harsh punishment instead of a first warning or second chance?” God, I love my mother twenty percent more today.
Her question is legit and true.

“I can understand how you feel; the fact of the matter is that this is more lenient than what others would receive. Usually, it’s a four-day suspension. I believe that by being strict from the start, we set a high expectation,” Mr. Arnold states always having an answer for everything.

“So you are setting an example of my son to show others that fighting will not be taken lightly?” Mom questions him looking unimpressed.

“No, this is standard policy,” he responds obviously pissed with Mom’s comment.

“That’s enough, Rose,” Dad orders.

“Thomas broke the school rules, and he needs to be punished. I, myself, am a very strict father, and I understand the need for authority and discipline, so you will have no arguments from me.” Dad agrees with Mr. Arnold.
Why am I not surprised?

I see a lonely tear stream down Mom’s cheek.
They are such different people.

We leave the office in silence. I can’t think of anything to say.
What’s done is done.

The trip home is also silent, very uncomfortable. As we get out of the truck, I don’t expect what comes next.

“Rose, go inside,” Dad states to Mom pointing to the house. She looks shocked and sad.

The next thing I know, Dad has me around the neck. He drags me into the shed and throws me onto the dirt. Then he locks the doors.
Holy shit, what the hell is he going to do?

“You think you can embarrass me and disrespect the Caine name and get away with it?” he questions me angrily.

“Dad, I’m sorry. It was stupid. I didn’t mean to disrespect you,” I say back to him as I get to my feet.

He removes the belt from his pants. I know he has beaten Tyler before, but I’ve never seen it.
This can’t really be happening. I stagger backward fearing for my life.

“You need punishment, Thomas, not just suspension from school. You need to learn right from wrong and that what I say goes.” I don’t recognize his voice or his face. He looks evil, possessed even. Not at all like my father.

“Dad, please, no,” I beg him as he walks toward me. I run to try and get away, but he is still fast in his old age. He grabs me hard and pins me to the ground. He throws two punches at my face, yanks me over to his bench, rips my shirt open at the back and then it really begins.

I fight and struggle until I have no more fight left in me. I count twelve whippings with his belt. My back is stinging so intensely, and my face feels like a truck has hit me. It’s not until I hear the sound of the doors opening that I try to sit up.
It hurts so badly
. He’s gone. I hear the truck start, and he floors it down the road.

I howl in pain and cry because of what just happened. I cry because my own flesh and blood tortured me. But mostly, I cry because I lost an important part of me today, one that is trusting and loyal.
I am no longer that person that looked up to his father as a role model..

Never again.

Mom comes running to me. “Oh, my sweet boy, I’m here. I’m so sorry.” She is crying heavily. We sit on the dirt in the shed just her and me. She holds me, and we both shed a river of tears.

“Come on, Thomas, we need to get you inside,” she states.

“Okay,” is all I can manage, and I muster up the courage to stand and start to walk. I push through the aching and the incredible soreness as we waddle together.

As we exit the shed, our neighbor Judy comes running over to us.

“Oh Rose, I could hear Thomas screaming. Can I do anything?” she questions us, and I’m barely coherent.

“Please, just keep what you saw and heard today to yourself, Judy,” Mom tells her, pleading that she doesn’t push the subject since it will just cause more drama.

“It’s not right, Rose. I believe in discipline, but that is abuse,” she exclaims.

Mom keeps us moving as we make it to the back door and enter. She helps me inside and onto the couch. I lie agonizingly on my side and start to shiver. I’m still in shock.

“I’m running you a bath, Tommy. It will be okay. I’ll fix you, baby,” she tells me sweetly.

I find myself crying again. I don’t care if it makes me weak. I’m in intense pain both physically and mentally.

Now, I know why Tyler is so vocal about the way Jimmy treats him. Now, I also understand why Tyler is the way he is.

****

Mom thoughtfully gives me two ibuprofen and water, and then helps me into the bath. I couldn’t care less about being naked in front of her.

“Oh Tommy, the welts are bleeding. The water will sting at first, but then it’ll be okay,” she tells me so I brace myself.

I scream when she pours water on my back. The pain is searing through me. I’ve never felt anything like it.

Damn, I get tackled by some of the best defenders in the high school circuit and nothing can compare to this.

God, I’m glad I have two days suspension. I couldn’t go to school or train the way I am right now.

Mom softly washes my welts with a washcloth and dries me off. I feel helpless, limp, and now lethargic. She applies antibiotic ointment to the wounds, and I bite into my pillow to help with the pain.
I don’t remember anything after that; I must have passed out from the pain.

When I wake up, it's seven-thirty. I can smell the dinner that I must have missed.
Shit.

Is Jimmy back? What do I tell Tyson and Tyler happened to me? How do I hide this? I can’t even deal with any of it right now, so I close my eyes again and let sleep take me to a better place.

It’s not until the sunlight beams through my curtains that my eyes open. Tyson has already left, but I notice a note on my desk.

Hey, little bro, Mom said you have been sick.

Hope you feel better today.

Tyson

So that’s the lie that she told them—I’ve been sick. Well, yeah, I feel fucking sick. It’s called punishment from Jimmy Caine, and it’s all fucked up.