Page 79 of Redd

Chapter Seventeen

Redd

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Bijou was tucked againstmy chest, head nuzzled into the crook of my arm. Resting my head back, I stared up at the ceiling.

It was time for me to shed this weight. I had to tell her everything in order for her to understand the choices I had made.

It's not like I chose to do any of this shit just for fun, sometimes things just are. . .

I was a criminal, I was a killer, I was both of those things and I didn't want them to define me as some sick piece of shit. People often wonder what drives a person to make choices that lead them down a path of no return.

The answer was simple for me, it wasn't some complicated ball of strings that needed to be unraveled to find the truth. I was dealt a shitty hand and I responded.

My father was a royal bastard who didn't know how to love. My family was dirt poor and needed money to survive.

That was my motive, that was why I was here. It was black and white in my eyes; if I didn't steal that money, we would have had nothing. If I didn't stop my father, he would have killed us all.

I stopped him. . . But he was still able to kill me on the inside.

Taking in a long breath, I struggled to find the words. “I was sixteen when things changed, when I realized it was time for me to finally do something. And I tried to do things the honest way, I really did.”

Shifting in my arms, she wrapped her body around my waist and looked up at me. “I told you it doesn't matter.”

“It does matter, Bijou. I want you to know.” Thumbing her shoulder, I tangled our fingers together and kept talking. “I found a bill on the table one morning. It was all crumpled up, like my mom meant to throw it away and forgot.”

The more I talked, the easier it was to keep going. It was like the flood gates had opened and this gush of rapids sped through.

Bijou just listened, her eyes painfully swallowing every word.

“Our electric was past due, it was the final notice before they were going to shut it off. I couldn't let them do that, not with my little sister there. We already had nothing, I was tired of living that way. It wasn't like we had absolutely no money, but my father chose to fill his need for alcohol over providing for his family.”

My mind flipped backwards like a movie in reverse, taking me back to those moments, those memories that I had torn up and tried to throw away.

They were never gone, only tucked in the attic of my mind. Waiting to be pulled out of the dusty box and replayed for a fresh set of eyes.

* * * *

“What's this?” I threwthe crumpled bill onto the bed next to my mother as she laid there. A fresh bruise colored her left cheek, her lip was split in the corner, and fingerprint- shaped marks speckled her forearm.

She had a rough night, it was one of many. I couldn't honestly remember a time where her body didn't reflect his anger.

Reaching out, she picked up the paper and looked at it. “Don't worry about this, Redd, we're taking care of it.”

“What did he say that was for? Not folding his clothes right?”

Pushing herself up, she rubbed her puffed up cheek. “It's nothing, Honey, I'm fine.”

“Is it, Mom? Is that really what fine looks like? How long are we going to keep going like this? Why don't we just leave?”

“Stop, Redd, you know we can't. I don't want you to worry about me, just stay out of his way and everything will be fine.”

She said it as if it was true. Like I shouldn't give a shit about what happens to her. Like it didn't matter that he beat us for no reason. Or that it didn't matter that she took the brunt of it for us.

When my father would go off on me, she always came to the rescue. My mother would throw herself in the line of fire, and he would take it. She didn't deserve this life.

I hated when she would try and downplay it. We needed to get out, and the sooner the better. For her to make it seem like I didn't have to worry about her well being was insane. She was my mother, of course I cared.

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