Silver-Lining (Ghost Riley x Reader)

Chapter Forty-Four

SOTD- Christmas Kids by Roar, Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez, and Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood

TW: Mentions of abuse

A/n: The chapter is a little crappy I've been really busy this week and my sister's graduation is tomorrow. And I'm the only siblings that's coming since my other brother and sister is in another town and they can't make it. A lot is going on and I am rambling so I'll just shut the fuck up😭 but either way, forgive me for the craooy chapter

PANIC. The feeling I felt so often on the field. But the fear of hearing his footsteps thudding against the floor was a different kind of fear. I pushed my thoughts aside, allowing the fear to slowly slip away, letting the rage I felt against him settle in.

But rage wasn't what I was here for. I stood up from my seat and turned to face the doorway. "Hello, Sean." My tone was calm once he stepped inside of the kitchen. "Who the hell are you guys?" His voice was raspy, almost venomous. "It's y/n." My mom's voice sounded small and she looked smaller in her seat than when she was before.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He spat. "And who the hell is this?" He pointed to Ghost. Ghost let his gaze fall on Sean, practically shooting daggers at him. I stood tall, my hands behind my back. It felt as if I moved an inch I would've attacked him out of spite. I wasn't here for a fight. I was here for an apology. I knew it was the only way I could fully heal and move on though I do believe I wouldn't forgive him.

"That's Ghost," I told him. Too many emotions coursed through my veins. I didn't know how to feel now that I was face-to-face with my dad.

I wanted to be angry and I wanted to be sad. Other feelings settled in; feelings I wasn't quite sure of. It had been nine long years since I'd seen him. My face examined every wrinkle that formed on his face throughout the rough years. Each breath I took burned in my lungs and my heart felt so heavy it hurt.

I clenched my hand, forming a fist. My left hand wrapped tightly around my wrist, almost like I was restraining myself. "Why the hell are you here?" Gray hairs sliced into his bushy brows. "Catch up like the good 'ol days," I spoke sarcastically.

"Please, Sean, take a seat." I gestured toward one of the empty seats. "Tamera, get me a beer."

My mom stood up quickly and rushed toward the fridge. Sean took a seat and gestured to the seat I stood beside. I pressed my palm against the table, gripping the wood with my fingertips as I sat down. I sat up straight in my chair, bringing my hands together to intertwine my fingers. I held my hands out comfortably on the table.

My eyes stared into Sean's, a feeling creeping up behind me. It wasn't fear nor rage- yet, something completely different. "I'm here because you owe me something." My tone was calm and my muscles were relaxed.

I took in his body language to at least try and prognosticate his movements. Will he take a swing? Will he remain calm? Will he get angry? I took in every detail, waiting for him to explode. And if he did, I knew I would be ready. I craved the feeling of the stinging pain burning in my knuckles, shooting deep into my bones once I threw a harsh punch into his jaw.

"Owe you what?" He snatched the beer from my mom's loose grasp, popping the cap off with ease. The satisfying crack of the beer cap filled my ears in a comforting manner. It was a noise that I was very used to. Growing up, hearing that crack through the days and nights, finding peace in it knowing Sean would drink until he passed out. When he passed out that was peace for us.

I could tell my mom changed. She was never scared to argue back. She would throw things at him and curse loudly. It was when he raised his hand she would go as quiet as a mouse. I could still hear the harsh echoes of his hand meeting her cheek. Looking at my mom, she didn't look like she had even an ounce of fight in her. She looked like she gave up. That's because she did.