Page 118 of Paper Hearts

Theo takes another step toward his son, his feet crunching on broken glass. His eyes snap to mine. “You proved my point. He’s back a few hours and you spread your legs for him.”

I remember his words.“You’re a slut and he’s never going to amount to anything.”

That’s what he said when he found out I was pregnant.

My heart pounds hard. Lana takes a hold of Theo’s hand. “Theo, knock it off!”

Ender lifts his hand, running it through his disarray of hair. He’s shaking, his breathing heavy. He doesn’t say a word to him. And like I’ve said, I’ve never known Ender to need his words.

Myles approaches me from behind, his shoulder brushing mine as he reaches for Ender. He holds onto his older brother. Myles doesn’t say anything either, eyeing their father.

Theo smirks, a mirrored image of the headstrong boys he brought into this world. “You really think you can stop him?” he asks Myles.

“He’s not worth it,” Myles urges Ender, touching his shoulder.

Ender’s not listening though. His rational thoughts are gone. It happens quicker than I think any of us expect, but Ender takes one step toward his dad, draws in a breath, and hits him. A right-hand hook that connects with Theo’s jaw.

Theo drops to the ground instantly, holding his face in his hands. Blood splatters against a white tablecloth bunched up on the ground next to them.

My eyes slide to Ender as he stands over his father. When Theo gets to his feet, he stumbles but puffs out his chest, blood pouring from his crooked nose. “Go ahead, kid. Hit me again. You know you want to.”

“I want you dead,” Ender growls, slamming into him as they fall to the ground.

The remaining cleaning staff backs up, shocked at what they’re seeing. I scream, Lana cries, and Myles tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, not bothering to stop them. I shove his shoulder. “Myles! Stop them.”

His face crumbles. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because he deserves this,” he mumbles, his jaw tight, breathing as angry and convulsive as his brother. It’s then I wonder how much Myles has seen over the years. Did he witness the abuse Ender endured for him? For Arya? For his mother? Ender took the brunt of Theo’s outbursts because he couldn’t, wouldn’t accept it happening to anyone else.

With Ender on top of him, Theo fights back, his hands around Ender’s throat, but it does nothing to stop his son. “Go ahead!” Theo spits blood. “Show her what you’re really like.”

Ender hits him again, blow after blow of pent-up anger he’s never let this man have. Or maybe he has and I’ve never witnessed this side. It’s different from what he showed me earlier. This…thishe’d bleed to death for. He’d give his life to end this man’s.

The darkness hangs in the air and Myles and I both sense it. Lana is crying into her palms, on her knees, begging Ender to stop.

But he won’t.

He can’t.

He doesn’t.

Hit after hit.

“Ender!” I yell, crying and trying to get through to him. I lose my fucking mind, but not because I want to protect Theo, but I’m worried about Ender. He has a deep cut on his wrist from glass and it’s leaking blood so profusely it’s pooling under his right knee. Theo is no longer moving, his face bloodied and damn near unrecognizable.

He turns his head at the sound of my voice, not his mother’s. His eyes lock on mine. He’s gone. There’s no life in his blues. There’s only anger. Harshness. Devastation. You can only push a man so far before there’s no turning back. He’s over the edge now and you know, sometimes there’s honor in revenge and he’s letting his demons lead. They’re in charge now.

I finally see it. What I’ve been wanting to know from the beginning.

I gasp at his wrist. “You’re bleeding.”

Ender doesn’t even acknowledge the blood. He’s staring at his father, motionless beneath him. I rush toward him and take a nearby tablecloth and wrap it around his wrist.

“You have no understanding of what he’s really like. It’s a front he gives you.”

Ender’s guard is down. He’s shaking, tears falling from his eyes, his body trembling as he lifts himself from his dad. He stands, his white dress shirt splattered red, but the expression he wears haunts me. He coughs, sways, loses his footing and falls, gasping for air, his lip split down the middle.

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