Before you knew

56. Maybe.

Slamming on the door is what breaks the minutes of peace.
I look at Clay and he seems to know what I'm thinking, he sets everything aside and we both quickly dress in our rooms.

When I walk back out, Clay is already heading down the stairs. He unlocks the door as I make my way down. When he opens the door, he gets shoved back as my father steps inside. I am close enough to quickly grab Clay before he slams into the small dresser.

'You are so pathetic.' He says on a low tone and Clay moves me behind him. No, no I can't let him take the hits for me. I move in front of him. 'I'm calling the cops if you don't leave.' I say. I don't sound scared or upset. I'm just done. Done with this, and done with him. 'Fair enough, I left the Netherlands to leave behind my past and my problems, therefore you. But you have no right, no right! To barge into my home like this!' I yell the last part, same fire and anger behind my eyes as my father has. He laughs, pissing me off even more. 'Of course you ran. Maybe it would have been better if you weren't alive anymore. Died when you were about to. Or died by your own hands.' He says.

'Maybe, you should have just killed yourself.' He snaps, eyes dark and targeting me, his words like bullets. 'My intention was never to die. I just needed to feel something different then the numbing pain you made me feel.' I tell him. He laughs 'that's just pathetic, you just didn't have the guts to do it properly.' I look at him. 'You're the one that failed the suicide. If I wanted to be dead, I would have been.' I say. He smiles, a strange sort of hysteria filling his eyes as he snaps.

He grabs my arm roughly. I don't react though the bruising pain shoots up my shoulder. 'If it wasn't for your mother I would have been dead by now.' He says. 'Maybe that would have been better, it's really damn tough to erase you from my life.' I say. 'You can't erase me. I'm already in here.' I taps my forehead. 'I had forgotten about you till I stumbled upon you yesterday.' I say. He grabs my arm tighter. 'You disrespectful brat!' He yells as he shoves me back. I land against Clay as he gently holds my shoulders to steady me. 'I am still your father! Still family!' He growls at me. Clay is not letting me go. As my father steps closer. 'Don't you remember. You have nothing on me anymore. I even changed my last name to moms.' I say.

The sound of the slap, followed by the tingling pain on my cheek.

'That's enough!' Get out of my fucking house!' Clay moves me aside as he pushes my father back hard enough to make him stumble. 'And I am not saying it again.' Clays tone lowers. I haven't seen him this angry. He's been angry, sure, but this is different. Pure hatred. 'What are you saying to me boy?!' My father says loudly. Clay steps closer, nearly standing against him as he towers above him, being a good three inches taller. 'Get, the, fuck, out.' I bite my lip nervously. I don't know whether or not that's going to be enough. But then I see my father step back. He glances at me one last time before turning away and walking out.

Clay doesn't leave the door opening until the car drives off.

'Clay?' I ask. He quickly turns around, as if he had forgotten I was there. He holds my chin as he looks at my cheek. He gently traces the skin, the cold fingers feeling nice on the hot skin. I look at the small scar and bruise on his cheek, my cheek is not half as bad as his.

He pulls me in for a hug, kicking the door closed behind him.
'Sorry.'