When my dad built this house, he had a huge home gym put in. He used to train for all his fights here, away from prying eyes. His trainer even came out here and stayed with us a few times. When you heard music blasting from the gym, you knew Dad was working out. When it wasn’t a planned workout, you stayed away. Easton and I knew this, hence the reason he rushed in the house.
I laughed as I made my way inside. Everything was quiet, and when I called out for Mom, I didn’t get an answer. She must have stayed at the gym. Not sure how Dad got here since I had the other car.
I went to work making sandwiches for Easton and myself, and poured a juice for him and grabbed a water for myself. “Lunch is ready,” I yelled before hearing the thundering of Easton’s feet on the stairs.
“Is Dad still out there?” He peeked around the corner.
“Yeah.” I nodded as I grabbed a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you worried?”
“I’ve done enough wrong things to know that even when I’m right I should stay away,” he mumbled around a bite of sandwich. I don’t know what he meant. Easton was always getting away with stuff. I was the one pushing the boundaries most of our lives and getting punished for it.
Growing up, I would hang out at the gym. Mom’s best friend, Ally, would come by all the time with her son, Caleb. Caleb was always taunting me. If we weren’t getting into trouble, we were fighting. He’s the reason I learned to punch. He used to pick on me because I was a girl, so I convinced my dad to teach me some moves. Over the years I’ve gotten better, but Caleb had stopped coming around when I was about thirteen. At least, until recently. I went by the gym last week because I’d gone into town with Mom. She was harassing me about college, and I bailed on her to hang out at the gym. When I walked in, Caleb was working the front desk. I think he was just as surprised to see me as I was him. I haven’t been back since, and I don’t really know if I want to. A lot’s changed in the last several years, and now it’s just awkward.
“Earth to Riley.” I jumped when I felt the tapping on my shoulder. Easton had gone quiet, and by the look on his face I knew exactly who was standing behind me.
“Hey, Daddy.” I smiled as I glanced up at him.
“Daddy? You only call me Daddy when you want something.” He sighed as he gripped the back of his neck. Sweat was pouring off him and he looked weary.
“I don’t want anything, except maybe for you to shower. You smell.” I crinkled my nose.
Dad pulled his sweaty tank out and sniffed it. “Smells like I always do.” He shrugged before scowling. “Your mom likes the way I smell.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Mom’s voice chimed in as she breezed in the room, tossing her purse on the counter along with a stack of papers. “Joey and I went through all of these. Your first class starts tomorrow.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Thanks, Angel.” Dad grinned before Mom melted. Whatever caused him to leave early was long forgotten and the PDA that I tried so hard to avoid was coming at me like a freight train.
“Ugh.” I made a gagging noise before grabbing my plate and standing. No one had said anything about my hand, so I thought I might just get away with it until I decided to take a step toward the couch.
“Rils? What’d you do to your hand?” Mom mumbled around Dad’s lips as he kissed her.
“I…” I tried to come up with an excuse that would garner the smallest punishment, but my brother beat me to it.
“She punched a guy at the beach. It was so cool. Dad! She made his face swell up.” Easton grinned, and I shot him a ‘you’re so dead’ look. “I mean, she was sticking up for me.” He shrugged as I continued to glare.
“Really?” Dad released Mom in favor of facing me.
“It was Dean. He was being a jerk,” I muttered as Mom came over to examine the damage. “It was nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Dad crossed his arms. “Seems like a pretty big something, Rils. You could have broken your hand.”
“Well, I didn’t. Can we move on now?” I sighed.
“No. What did he do?” Dad leaned against the counter.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” I mumbled as Easton blurted out, “he called her a prude.” My head jerked to the side as fire burned deep inside me.
Mom wrapped me in a hug, and as I tried to push her away, she squeezed tighter. “Oh, honey.”
“What’s that mean? Is it bad?” Easton’s eyes darted around as he tried to determine who would give him the best answer.
“Why don’t you go play in your room?” Mom shooed him away.
“Well? Is it bad?” Easton tried again.
“Hell, no it’s not bad!” Dad bellowed and Easton took off in a sprint for the stairs.
“Wes!” Mom scolded.
“It’s not fucking bad, Angel!” Dad threw his hands in the air. “That little punk is an arrogant prick. I’m glad she hit him.” He started pacing. “I want to go hit him now, only I’ll put him on his ass. What kinda parents let their son treat
