Teenage Baby

Chapter 38

Just in case you forgot, Daddy=Dominic and Mommy=Cara.

Chapter 38:

Nineteen-year-old Dominic trudged through the large black double-doors of his house with a heavy sigh and repressed, pained grunts rumbling in his throat.

  He'd just gotten out of a fight—which he'd won, as always—with a small group of rowdy boys who'd done the fatal mistake of messing with Cara; they'd catcalled her as he'd been walking with her, his fingers interlaced with hers, and the mere moment he'd heard their voices a surge of anger drowned out the calmness of being around her. Dominic had braced himself to lash out at them and possibly break their jaws, but Cara had reminded him to ignore them.

Dominic had agreed.

Only until Cara left off to her house.

  That was when he'd directly gone storming through the streets beneath the looming darkness of the night, rounding corners and alleyways with wild eyes that searched frantically for the boys. And when he'd finally found them, he had them all tackled down and writhing on the cold pavement after the small brawl they'd had.

  And now, Dominic slowly forced himself to move up the marble staircase. He smiled to himself as he remembered it all: the pops and cracks of bones beneath his busted knuckles, the pained yelps and squeaks and grunts that had filled his ears after each punch he'd thrown—they were all so satisfying.

Dominic always felt a lot more relaxed after a proper fight he'd dissipate his anger through.

  He lumbered tiredly to the living room, because he'd let Lou sleep in his room for the night and he didn't want to wake him up. Besides, he'd scar him with the all wounds, especially the one running across his cheekbone.

And as soon as he flicked on the lights, a soft glow fell upon the room and lifted the darkness off the familiar burly figure standing in the middle, awaiting.

"Again? How many times should I tell you stop getting into fights!"

"They catcalled Cara," Dominic said with a nonchalant shrug, moving over to the couch. "I taught them a lesson for a lifetime."

"Well, guess what? I don't care about Cara, and I don't care about you." His father moved closer. "Do you know what I care about? So many people going around talking about how a business man like me has a stupid son like you who can't even control his anger! Everybody is talking about how many fights you've gotten into. Be a normal person for once and stay calm!"

"But that's not what people with anger issues do. I can't stop myself. I've tried. And failed".

"You don't have anger issues. You're just a spoiled, selfish brat. That's all you do, act like you can't control yourself. Attention seeker."

"Uh... no. I'm pretty sure I have anger issues. I'm honest with myself. Even my psychologist said that I need a psychiatrist now to prescribe some medicine." Dominic pursed his lips. "Sorry to break it down, but until I get all this shit done I'm probably not getting better."

"No. You don't want to get better. You're too spoiled to even try. I'm not about to pay for any psychiatrist or medicines or anything. Fix yourself on your own or find enough money to get them yourself, because guess what?" Standing right in front of Dominic, the older man jabbed a finger in his chest, his other hand grabbing him by the front of his clothes and pulling him closer. "You're not worth anything. I'm not about to spend another penny on a piece of shit like you. Stop acting, that will fix it."