A love story
Chapters with * next to the number may contain sensitive content.
WARNING: contains strong language, violence, sexuality, emotional trauma, drug use, and other content suited for mature audiences. Don't read if you're a pansy.
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I hadn't been home in four days, but it felt like an eternity. I stared at the entrance of the house, not even on the porch yet. A distinct fear settled in my mind, the fear of rejection by the people who should be closest to me, my family. I knew Jasper had already told them about the heroin, how could he have not?
As I stepped closer with slow movements, my eyes traveled over to the driveway where a very specific car rested. I audibly groaned. It was my father's. What the hell was he doing back here? He fucking left for a reason. He was the last person I wanted to see.
I slowly encountered the steps leading up to the house, but before I could even begin my ascent, the front door swung open.
It was my dad, his eyes popping out from his skull with rage. "Get off my property!" He yelled, his husky, deep voice accented by his thick New York accent, where I got mine.
I sighed, running my hand down my face. "Dad—"
"No, you don't get to just waltz in and out of here at your leisure. This is a home, not a hotel!" He shouted, veins bulging from his balding head. It was hard to take this man seriously.
"Walter! That's enough!" My mom emerged from the house, clad in her nice silk shirt, the one she wore when she wanted to look nice. She had anticipated dad's return. Maybe she invited him back.
"Stay out of this, Rebecca." He gritted his teeth, but she yanked his shoulder back.
"He's my son, too!" She declared, pushing herself in front of him.
"He's no son! He's just a burden." He spat at me, jutting out his finger to point at my face. I stepped back, my eyes staring into his. Is that what he really thought of me? I knew he didn't like me, but to not even consider me his own son? A burden? I didn't want to be here anymore.
"Walter!" Mom gasped, her hand over her mouth. She spun around to dash down the steps, placing her hands on my face. "Oh honey, what happened to you? Where have you been?"
"It's okay, I'm okay, mom," I held her wrist and lowered her hand, shaking my head. "I just came back to get my car." I informed her.
"Uh-uh, no way in hell," dad intruded, running down the four steps and stepping between me and mother. "There is no way I'm letting you take that car."
"You have no say in it, it's my car." I towered over him in height, but that didn't seem to intimidate him in the least bit.
"I don't think so, I pay for that car, it's in my name, so you don't get to just take it." He stated, his arms crossing over his chest.
"Walter, it's his car—"
"No! I'm not letting him take it so he can just go and sell it for drug money, no fucking way."
