Fast Track

Chapter Two

Adeline's POV:

"Ty, you have to go." I said exasperatedly as I kicked my shoes off and sank down onto the couch. There were a million things that I needed to be doing in preparation for the banquet tonight and having this argument with my brother for the third time today definitely wasn't at the top of the list. Yet here we are. Earlier in the day, I thought that we had came to an agreement, that he would go. But when I walked into the apartment that he and I shared and found him drunker than a skunk, I knew that his words from earlier had been said to shut me up.

"Fuck that banquet. They only want us there so they can hound of with questions -questions that we don't have the answers too. Questions that we will probably never have answers to since mom decided that she was better off not knowing what happened." Said Ty, pacing the length of the room, rage coming off him in waves.

"That might be the case but don't you think that daddy would want us to go. For fucks sake Ty, you are being honored for winning the championship. You earned your place at that banquet." I said, tears clogging my voice at the mention of daddy.

"Yeah well, if I hadn't have been out on that fucking track, I wouldn't have been so tired. I would have been right by daddy's side. I would have been there to call for help." Screamed Ty, as tears streamed down his cheeks. He was so close to my face that it forced me to sink back into the cushion of the couch.

"You were doing what you loved. Daddy wanted nothing else for you than for you to do what made you happy." I said, standing from the couch since Ty stepped back. "Look, I know you are hurting. I am too. But there is nothing that we can do to change anything that's happened. All we can do is try to live our lives in a way that would have made daddy proud. We have to pick up the pieces and learn to live a life that doesn't involve him. If that means attending banquets when we would rather drown ourselves in our sorrows, so be it. It's what daddy would have wanted."

"How the fuck is this so easy for you Addie?" said Ty, his tone no longer filled with hurt. Honestly I would prefer it over the malice that I heard there now.

I knew that the right thing to do would be to let him have his moment but dammit, I was tired of him using me as his fucking punching bag. I was tired of being the one picking up the fucking pieces of this family. I was tired of holding in what I was feeling just so it wouldn't hurt someone else. "Fuck you, Tyler Randal Gibbs!. And yes, I just used your full fucking name so don't even give me that shocked look! You know damn well this isn't easy for me. I was the one that found him. I was the one that had to call the ambulance. I was the one that tried to give him CPR and bring him back. I was the one that watched the EMT's load him on into the ambulance. I was the one that watched that ambulance pull away with no lights and sirens because there was nothing that could be done for him. I will have that fucking memory with me for the rest of my life. I was the one that called Mom to tell her. I was the one that called you and the rest of our siblings. I was the one that called grandpa and told him that one of his children had gone to heaven. All of it fell the fuck on me to do because I'm the fucking oldest. And if you ask me, that's not fucking fair. I shouldn't have been the one that had to do that. And I shouldn't be the one that you like to use as a fucking punching bag when you are feeling mad at the damn world! It's not my fault that daddy died. If not anyone's fault so I'd fucking appreciate it if you would stop blaming me and everyone under the sun for something that we had no part in. It's sure as fuck not going to bring him back!"

After my explosion, I stood in the middle of the living room, Ty and I looking at one another. With the way I was feeling, I wanted him to swing on me. I wanted him to give me a reason to punch him so that I could physically knock some sense into him. But I knew that it would be pointless since he was drunk. Plus, daddy always hated when we fought, even though he always told me when he got me alone that he was glad to know that his daughter knew how to protect herself.