Page 65 of Savior
I back away quickly from him, my hands up to hopefully convey to her that I’m not going to hit him again.
Maddie throws her arms around her father’s neck, looking up at me with a tear-streaked face that nearly breaks my fuckin’ heart.
“You hurt him!” she cries. “You made him bleed!”
Fuck my life. What do I even say to her?
Before I can say anything, Lucinda is ripping me away by my cut, shoving me towards my bike and telling me to get the fuck out of here.
“You’re a fucking savage!” Lucinda screams at me. “How could you do that to her?”
“You heard what he said… I lost my shit.” I manage to say, though I know it’s no excuse. I scared the shit out of Maddie... Most probably did irreparable damage to her image of me in the process.
“That’s not all you lost. Get out of here!” she shoves me hard in the chest.
I stare past her at Maddie, who is tugging on her father’s hand as he stands back up. Once he’s on his feet again, she turns to look at me, her little face glaring. It’s like a fucking dagger to the heart, and I brace myself for the painful impact her words are going to have on me. I fully expect her to tell me that she hates me… That she never wants to see me again…
“Maddie, baby, I’m sorry…” I barely hear myself say.
Lucinda shoves me once more. “Leave! You don’t get to talk to my daughter ever again!”
“No!” Maddie cries, attempting to run over to us. Lucinda whirls around to grab her daughter before she makes it to me.
“Get out of here, Dean! Now!” Lucinda shouts.
I back towards my bike as I watch Maddie struggle in Lucinda’s arms to get to me. I’ve done enough damage. I should leave. I force myself to turn away from her, cocking my chin at Axel and Viking, signaling for them to get back to their bikes as well. We’re done here…
I look back up at my so-called brother, who’s clutching his side in pain as he stares back at me. I can’t exactly decipher what else is behind his expression, other than the pain I put him in. Though, there is something there. Something that looks a bit like remorse.
“Let me go!” Maddie screams, pulling my attention back to her in time to see Lucinda lift her in her arms and start carrying her towards the house. “Why did you do that? Why, Uncle Dean?”
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter to myself, before I call back to her that I’m sorry.
Lucinda turns to me one last time. “Get out of here.” She scowls, stroking Maddie’s hair in a hopeless attempt to calm her daughter down. “Leave!” Lucinda places her down on the porch and tries to get her in the front door, but Maddie’s fighting to yank her little arm from Lucinda’s grasp.
She’ll calm down as soon as I’m gone… I force myself to turn away from them, mounting my bike and focusing on the road ahead of me. The best thing I can do for Maddie right now, is just to get out of here.
Telling myself that this is only a temporary setback, that I at least have some kind of leverage over Lucinda this time, when she tries to exile me from Maddie’s life, I hit the ignition and take off.
The moment Dean walks through the front door, I know something’s wrong. His knuckles are scabbed. His eyes look tired and strained. And he smells like sweat, whiskey and motor oil.
“What happened to you?” I ask, placing our dinner plates and silverware down on the table before I walk up to him.
“Another shit day.” He replies.
“I can see that.” I help him out of his cut and hang it up on the rack beside the front door.
“What’s all this?” he asks, tilting his chin towards the dining room table, where I have the candles lit and a small gift box waiting for him. “Fuck my life… Did I forget an anniversary or something?” I can tell he’s trying to think back to early on in our relationship, trying to connect today’s date with something of significance to us.
“No… but, I do have something to tell you.” I say. “Why don’t you go get washed up and meet me back in here?”
“Alright.” He says on a sigh, bending to kiss me briskly on the lips before he heads to the bedroom.
I busy myself with plating up our dinner, chicken parmesan, one of Dean’s favorites, with a side of pasta and a bowl of salad. Sitting down with my glass of ginger ale, I wait for him to rejoin me.
After a quick shower, and now wearing a black undershirt and a clean pair of jeans, Dean makes his way to the dining room table. He takes a seat in his usual spot at the head of the table, eyeing the candles once again before he looks at me.
“I hope whatever you’ve got to tell me is good news.” He sighs.
