Only the Good Die Young

Chapter Six

The old man gave a gruff chuckle, looking you up and down with an expression that made you deeply uncomfortable. Eventually getting his fill, he turned back towards his son, apathetically pushing past him and stumbling towards the kitchen. He coughed harshly into his hand before beginning to blindly rifle through the cupboards. Bucky rubbed his forehead, not wavering his gaze from the intruder for a second. It was jarring to see him so stressed. If this situation was enough to make him freak out, maybe his father was more dangerous than he looked.

'Not your usual type, son.'

Your guest propped himself against the counter, leering at you over the warm can of beer he'd scavenged. With every word out of his mouth you could see Bucky tensing up more and more. It felt like watching a spark travel up a fuse, and you winced as it got closer to the source of ignition.

'Don't,' Bucky's voice was low, threatening, 'just take what you want and go, alright?'

'What's the deal with this one then? Prison? Meth?'

He was smirking as he took a long gulp, watching Bucky squeeze his fists and step forward. You shifted around uncomfortably. The two men were face to face now, one still looking casual, unfazed, while the other stood menacingly straight with his jaw clenched and shoulders squared.

'She a hooker?'

Bucky swiftly grabbed two fistfuls of his father's shirt and pulled him away from the counter, the half-empty beer clattering to the ground and exploding with suds. Their faces were only a few inches apart. Both sets of eyes were wide, exchanging steady glares. You felt foolish just sitting there, watching, but there was no way in hell you were going to intervene.

'You gonna hit me son,' the intruder spat, 'over a bit of cheap tail?'

Bucky stood firm, looking as though he was ready to crack the man's skull against a wall given the slightest bit of provocation.

'Hey, you,' dad turned his head, chuckling and flashing you a sinister wink, 'I got a joke for you. It's one of my boy's favourites.'

'Don't you fuckin' dare.'

The glazed stare stayed trained in your direction, a hateful grin spreading over his face and exposing a wall of crooked, browning teeth. 'What's a woman?'

You just waited, cringing.

'A life support system for a cunt.'

With that Bucky snapped. He spun round, harshly shoving his father towards the open door. Unable to stay balanced on his trembling legs, the man stumbled backwards and landed with a loud thud on the grass outside, tattered boots still poking through the gap. Bucky quickly jumped after him, dragging the squirming body away before slamming the door.

A cacophony of shouting and crashing began outside, prompting you to jump up from your seat and cross over to the front window, but the fight had moved away by the time you pulled the blind back. You didn't dare venture out there. Alone and helpless, all you could do was hope to god that Bucky was winning.

You didn't know why, but at that moment the only useful thing you felt you could do was clean up all the spilled beer. Grabbing a fistful of kitchen towels, you knelt down and wiped them over the puddle, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes. The lingering smell of stale liquor and BO made your stomach churn. This trailer had quickly gone from being a sanctuary to being nothing more than an extension of the bullshit you'd been trying so hard to escape.

You'd almost finished cleaning when the trailer door clicked open and Bucky stumbled back in; his knuckles were mottled with cuts and grazes and blood from his nose was smeared across his cheek. He didn't look at you, instead just stumbling over to the couch and collapsing, head in his hands. You disposed of the beer-soaked kitchen towels and grabbed some fresh ones, dampening them under the tap before moving over and lowering yourself beside him.