Heartless Savage by Ivy Blake

Chapter Eight

Austin

As I approached the front door, I knew I was truly and utterly fucked- but there was nothing I could do but face my fear head on. I shouldn’t have let Megan go on for as long as she did, but how was I supposed to tell her to shut up when she was the first person to explain things to me properly and like I wasn’t an idiot?

I turned my key in the lock and expected Steven to pounce on me as soon as I opened the door, but the house was eerily quiet when I got inside. I closed the door quietly behind me- I didn’t need to give Steven extra things to yell about- and took my shoes off at the door.

“Hello?” I called out. “I’m home,” I said, more quietly this time. I was about to go up to my room, when Steven appeared at the top of the stairs.

“You’re late,” he said coldly, his arms folded across his chest.

“I was with my teacher-”

“I don’t give a shit if you were in space, you were meant to be home straight after school,” he spat. I clenched my fists and looked at my feet, counting down the seconds until he would let me go.

“Where’s Mom?” I said, realising that she was meant to be here too.

“Your mother has a migraine so she’s in bed,” Steven said, a defensive tone clouding his voice.

“I’ll get her something to-”

“Leave her alone!” he bellowed. “She’s tired of your shit, it’s your fault she’s like this, you stupid twat!” There was no way it was my fault, I hadn’t even been here and yet he said it in such a convincing way that I couldn’t help but second guess myself.

“I’m just going to give her some water-” I started again, but Steven edged closer to me, cutting me off.

“Try that and see what happens,” he growled and I could see the vein pulsing in his neck.

“Right,” I said under my breath as I turned to go to the kitchen instead, hoping to avoid confrontation. My breaths were shallow as I prepared myself a sandwich, seeing as ‘family dinner’ was clearly off tonight. I wanted to see Mom but going near her meant that Steven would fuck me up, which I couldn’t have right now- not while my other bruise was still looking ugly as hell. I could sneak out, but that would mean leaving my mom alone with him. And if I couldn’t handle him, I knew for a fact that she couldn’t. there was no use calling the police either, I’d tried that and by the time they came, Mom and Steve would just lie their way out of it, leaving me looking like an idiot or an attention seeking delinquent.

I was shaking so much that I had difficulty bringing my sandwich to my mouth. I was about to take a bite when there were footsteps behind me. I turned around. Steven had followed me into the kitchen, his face redder than a slab of raw meat.

“I’m just eating,” I said, already on defence. He was like a bull, you had to tread carefully or else you’d see your life flash before your eyes.

“You didn’t apologise,” said Steven, his cold eyes boring into my own.

“What?” I stuttered, taken off-guard.

“So you’re deaf and stupid!” he yelled, as he closed the gap between us. I realised he was talking about my late arrival, but I don’t get why today was different to any other day- I was usually late for a variety of reasons.

“I’m sorry, okay. I won’t do it again,” I said, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise and I’d pay for it later. Clearly, Steven didn’t buy my apology and without further warning he smacked my sandwich out of my hand and drove his knee into my stomach.

The impact knocked me to the ground and I was certain I was going to be sick. Before I could think about my next move his foot was connecting with my stomach, then my ribs and my sides. Over and over again, Steven kicked the shit out of me as he yelled at me, obscenities flew out of his mouth letting me know how worthless I was and how my mom didn’t deserve a shit son like me.

At some point, he must have gotten bored and decided to leave, slamming the front door behind him. I’m not sure how long I lay there, curled on the floor in the foetal position, before I heard Mom’s gentle footsteps on the kitchen floor.

“Austin,” she whispered, and at the sound of her voice I opened my eyes. When her face came into view, I could see that she had a busted lip and red cheeks, courtesy of Steven. She lowered herself to the floor and cradled me in her arms, stroking my hair softly as she rocked me like a baby.

“You can leave him,” I croaked, the pain too much to bear.

“It’s not that simple,” said Mom through tears. Were we lucky that our house had soundproof walls and stood apart from the others? Or would it have been better if our neighbours could hear everything that went on here? Would they have stepped in? These were questions that constantly raced through my mind, but there was no way to ever know. As I started to feel faint from the pain, all I knew was that I wasn’t sure how much longer I could put up with this.

* * *

After Mom bandaged me up and helped me to bed, I lay awake feeling sorry for myself. On nights like these, when Steven got particularly violent, I found it impossible to sleep- fearful that he’d burst in again and go for round two. I played his words over and over again, torturing my conscience with their menace. Words I’d heard for years that had transformed into my own critical voice that I tried to drown out with weed and alcohol and girls but even I knew it was only temporary.

If Ross and Nate saw me in this state, what would they think of me? Would they think I was pathetic for not being able to fight back? For not being able to protect Mom from the tyrant that ruled our house with an iron fist? Another person crossed my mind. Megan. What would she think? Maybe she’d feel some sort of justice that her tormentor was getting what he deserved. I laughed bitterly to myself, my sides splintered with pain.

I pulled my blanket tighter around me as I thought about my father, and wondered how he would have treated me and Mom if he was still alive. My memories of him were hazy since he’d died so suddenly when I was only five. Mom always described him as a really sweet and caring man, which is why it always confused me that she could go for a callous and cruel one like Steven. I knew that his money protected us in this town, but it also kept us prisoners in this house. And because everyone here cared so much about appearances, there was no way that either of us were going to tell anyone what was really going on when the doors were closed. I could only hope that one day Steven got so drunk he got alcohol poisoning or got into a fatal accident of some sort. But until then, there’d be no rest until he was gone and Mom was free. Sure, I could run away to college, but what about her?

The thoughts were too much, and I wanted to drown out the pain, but I felt too weak to get up and grab my pre rolled joint. So I simply stared at the ceiling and willed the pain to go away so I could go to school tomorrow and pretend that everything was normal again.