Page 73 of Ice
I wriggled closer on the sofa, to rest my head on his shoulder.
“Only tell me what you feel comfortable sharing.”
Thirty-Four
Freetherapy.Iguesssome people would be pretty chuffed, and I suppose I might have been a little too, but talking about my past was hard. Harder than I’d realised, but then it wasn’t something I ever talked about, so how would I know?
“Dad was a real asshole, yeah? The kind of dad who barely fucking did a thing, certainly didn’t fucking help raise me. He was good at using his fists though, and mum… she deserved so much better, but he was a violent, abusive fucker, and he got what he deserved in the end.”
Lissa had started rubbing her hand gently over my chest as I spoke, and it soothed me inside, in a way nothing had. Suddenly talking about that bastard wasn’t as painful as I thought, and knowing mum was safe from him, that made it easier too.
“Is he dead?”
I wished, oh how I fucking wished I’d made that happen. One day, I would.
“Prison. He was locked up for twenty years. Not for abusing her, but for the shit he was doing to embezzle money from his employer. My stepfather, or step-asshole as I call him… he’s one of the cops who worked the case. Rescued her, and fucking won her over. She thinks the sun rises and sets in his fucking ass.”
Lissa laughed, lifting her head and rolling her eyes at me.
“Are you sure that’s the expression? That doesn’t sound right.”
I covered her hand on my chest, squeezing her fingers lightly.
“Babe, are you telling this, or am I?”
She giggled, but returned her head to rest against my shoulder.
“Go on.”
Jesus, was I still on this? I leaned my head back against the sofa.
“He looks down on me, the man she married. See he’s this impossibly good fucking hero of a guy, in law enforcement, and what am I? I’m a biker, and I’m the son of a monster who liked to steal, and beat up on the woman he said he loved.” A sudden horrifying thought hit me, and I felt that chill in my blood again. What if I was like him? What if ‘like father like son’ was actually true?
“Ice?”
I lifted her fingers to my lips, kissing them gently.
“What if I end up like him?” I was surprised I’d had the courage to even mention it, but something about her made me feel safe to let the words out.
She was shaking her head, then she sighed, as I wrapped my lips around one of her fingers and sucked it lightly.
“Need to go down on you, babe. Gotta fucking taste you again.”
“Wait… when did you taste me before?”
“You don’t think we taste our fingers, after we’ve had them inside our ladies?Please. That’s a wasted opportunity.”
I felt the way she shuddered at my words, but then she pulled her hand away and swatted me lightly.
“Don’t change the subject, Ice. You won’t be like him. You’re a good person, and just the fact that you asked that question tells me you won’t be like him. But tell me more about growing up in that environment. Did he ever abuse you?”
Ugh. Back to this shit. Would I feel better after we’d talked about it? Would I feel less like I failed my mother because, as a fucking five year old, I couldn’t protect her?
“Ice?”
“No. No, he never did… he yelled at me a lot, but he never hit me. He saved his fists for his woman. He uh… he had a system, see. He’d stick me in front of the TV and stick a DVD on, and leave me watching it loudly, like he thought I couldn’t hear him yelling, and cursing, or hear her crying for him to stop.”
“My god, I’m so sorry, Ice. The fact that he did that, that he tried to shield you, or hide it from you, I don’t really know if that makes it any better. Was it something you loved to watch? Cartoons? How old were you?”
