Page 13 of Reckless Abandon
Both London and I snagged questionable looks at one another, confused by the question. Neither of us smoked. She shook her head and I glanced around the room to see if anyone else might have one. I noticed a man and a woman at the table next to us, both smoking, and decided they might be a good option.
Standing, I moved slower than I normally walked, and stood at their table.
“Excuse me, but could we bum a light?”
The guard from the corner of the room was at my side immediately, towering over me with his imposing figure. Although I was only eighteen, I was a tall guy at six-two, but this guy was NFL-massive, his body build, and size of his limbs thick as a tree trunk.
“Get back to your table. You’re to refrain from speaking with anyone else while in here otherwise, I will escort you out. Got it?”
My body jerked at his loud and intimidating voice. I hung my head in apology.
“Uh, yes sir. Sorry. I was just…”
“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing. Go sit the fuck down.” A large finger poked me in the chest and I staggered back a little.
Swallowing hard, I turned and returned to the table where London and Sage looked on with wide-eyed, nervous expressions. London’s face showed fear, where Sage’s was more amusement than anything, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling.
“Well that’s not something I’ve ever seen happen before,” he mused, the cigarette dangling haphazardly from his mouth. “You’re not used to getting the smackdown from anyone.”
Realizing it was useless, Sage pulled the unlit cancer-stick from his lips and shoved it back behind his ear.
London leaned forward, her breasts pushing against the lip of the table, her voice quiet as a whisper. “Are they all like that? So hostile and mean?”
Sage’s eyes darted toward the guard, then to me and back on London. “Some are better than others. But it’s all relative. To keep the wild animals in here subdued, the zookeepers don’t put up with any shit. I’ve just tried to stay off their radar.”
He glanced away, but not before I saw the weary look in his eyes. The sadness and fear in them.
London’s eyes filled with tears, slowly cascading down her pretty face. I could tell Sage was trying hard to refrain from reaching over to catch them with his fingertips or move to comfort her. He steeled his composure and sat back against his chair, propping a foot over his knee. As if he didn’t notice or have a care in the world.
I cleared my throat, flipping through my rolodex of appropriate topics I could bring up in conversation. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I could or couldn’t say or ask Sage. How the hell do people do this?
I wanted to know about what happened. How it got to the point where he ended up killing his dad. What pushed him that far? London and I were still pretty unclear on the events that transpired that night, and no one had told us much more than the little Geoff originally divulged. We wanted to hear it directly from Sage.Neededto hear it from our friend.
“Can you talk about what happened?” My voice croaked like the question was trapped in my throat, clawing to get out.
When Sage’s eyes met mine for a brief second, I saw everything he’d kept hidden from us for far too long. The turmoil and pain that had built up over his lifetime. The abusive environment he was made to grow up in, the unfairness of it all. London and I were blessed to grow up in loving households and Sage got the short-end of the stick the moment he was born into this world and the parents that he was given. The cards he’d been dealt were shit.
While my family wasn’t perfect by any means, I always had a loving home. Although my dad had been strict because of his military background and was extremely hard on me, pushing and pressuring me to get straight A’s and be the MVP in football, baseball, and track, I still knew he only wanted the best for me.
Whereas Sage’s dad, Merle, was a fucking abusive asshole who only cared about where he’d score his next drink or fix. Merle was never a father or role model to Sage. He only proved that some men are not meant to be fathers and should never have procreated in the first place.
Sage realized his mistake the minute my discerning gaze met his and he glanced away, scanning the room as if looking for somewhere else he’d rather be. He rubbed a hand down his face.
“Attorney Geoff told me not say anything to anyone until the arraignment hearing.” He lifted a shoulder, his attention now centered on the scuffed table, his hand wiping away at invisible crumbs.
“But it’s us,” London argued softly, garnering a sympathetic smile from Sage. “You can’t say anything even to your best friends?”
He pursed his lips tightly and let out a long exhale. “I don’t know what to say. It was just like every other night in the last decade. The old man came home drunk or high, I don’t know which, looking for money to go score some more. When I got home from work, I found him ransacking my room, throwing shit around and yelling at me to give him some. He knew I’d been saving my money to leave and he wanted it, but I wasn’t stupid enough to hide it in my room. And I told him that, which he didn’t appreciate hearing. He called me an ungrateful worthless shit.”
Sage laughed sardonically with a roll of his eyes as London hiccupped a soft cry. I cursed.
“I was trying to stop him, pulling at his arms to get him out of the room when he turned on me and hit me in the face. It wasn’t more than a slap, but I turned to protect myself, covering my face with my bent arm. That’s when he turned the tables on me, and he picked up a bat and slugged me in the ribs, and then connected with my wrist, as well.” Sage pointed to his middle and his casted arm, indicating his broken body parts.
“Mother fucker.” I spat. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the asshole.”
Sage snorted, but then winced in pain. “I fell to the floor and before he could hit me again, I grabbed his legs and yanked him off balance. When he fell, his head hit the corner of my bureau. That was that. He hit it at just the right angle and he died. Fuck, my dad was an ugly bastard on the best of days, but the look on his face as he laid there dying in front of me, with blood pouring out of his skull, was pure evil. It still gives me nightmares. Knowing that bastard, he’ll probably haunt me the rest of my life. I’ll never get rid of the fucker.”
He laughed mockingly but it was plain to see how much it bothered him. The memories, I’m sure, would live on in his head forever.
