Suicide Notes

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Caleb-

Sitting quietly in my truck, parked just down the street from the home I'd grown up in, I felt my anger churning inside as I watched my dad sitting out on the porch cleaning, polishing, and inspecting his rifles, as if he didn't have a care in the world. He loved those dang things more than his own family. Always taking care of them and making sure they were properly reloaded. If he'd spent half of the time cultivating a relationship with his family as he spent messing with those guns, then maybe we'd actually have a family to fight for. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I didn't even know where to start.

I didn't feel any love or sympathy for this man. He'd been tearing us apart for years. True, he'd stuck things out with me, keeping me when he knew I wasn't his, but somehow it seemed as if that was merely a way for him to save face. He definitely wasn't doing it out of any love or obligation to me.

Thinking back to the night when I'd called the cops on him for hitting Danica, I remembered how scared I'd been; but I couldn't risk her being hurt anymore. The year he was in jail, only proved he was the reason behind our family discord. That was the happiest year we had ever had. We didn't even talk about him. I knew Danica went to visit him while he was away, but I'd always secretly hoped she would leave him. Now I realize she'd been trying to protect me too. She had no legal claim on me. If she'd have tried to take me away with Jessi and her, she could've been charged with kidnapping.

I couldn't help but wonder how things might have worked out if we had all gotten away somehow. Everyone was hurting so badly. There had to be some way to fix it.

I only knew one thing. If anything was going to happen to make things better, I was the one who was going to have to instigate it. Clearly neither Hank nor Danica seemed to be capable of doing so on their own.

Climbing from my Jeep, I slammed the door behind me, making my way toward the house. It was time to get this over with. I'd put things off for too long and right now, especially after learning about Anna leaving, I was in the perfect mood for a fight.

Raising his head, Dad narrowed his eyes at me before looking back to his task. "You bringing that stepmom of yours home yet?" he asked gruffly. "I'm not thrilled with you swooping in and carrying her off somewhere. I asked you to get her up and moving, not to make her leave. The place is a damn mess inside and it stinks so bad in there I can hardly stand to be in it."

"Then why don't you get off your lazy ass and clean it yourself, instead of playing with your damn guns?" I replied, striding up the steps. "There's no law that says Danica has to be the one who cleans this place." Noting the bottle of alcohol on the ground beside him, I forced a laugh as I shook my head. "Guns and alcohol. Nice combination—and smart too. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Glaring at me, his face flooded with color. "Don't you get all high and mighty with me, kid. You have no idea what goes on around here, so just stay out of it."

"I know exactly what goes on around here." I shoved my finger angrily at him. "You run this place like you're a dictator and it's killing your family. Mom has been in a mental hospital all this time and I haven't heard from you once. Don't you even care what happens to her? She's your wife for crying out loud!"

"You didn't call me either, in case you didn't notice. It's as easy for you to dial a number as it is for me," he grumbled, setting the gun to the side and standing to face me.

"I shouldn't have to. This is your family. I'd like to think you're man enough to give a damn about them once in a while; but I guess that's too much work for you, isn't it? Sorry that the rest of us cramp your style so much."