“Where’s that police training, huh?” he teases, prying my hand off his shoulder and trying to get a good grab on my arm. “Come on, then.”

It’s chaos, each of us fighting for power, rolling around on the floor as the bar noise around us seems to fade out completely.

“Luke, if you don’t control this, I’m gonna have to call somebody.”

I register Ray’s warning as I try to put my dad in a couple of holds, but he breaks free every time. He gains control, then me, and then him again. The struggle goes on for what feels like hours and I wait for my dad to grow tired, to give in, to end this bullshit, but he comes at me again and again, gaining the upper hand once more and pinning me on my back.

He’s sweating, panting heavily, but his strength hasn’t weakened. He wants that fucking drink, and he thinks he’s going to get it. His eyes are glazed over, the same color as mine but he looks half-possessed. Strung-out and frenzied. My head is throbbing from getting knocked to the ground, but I can’t pay attention to that right now. Not when he raises his hand next to his head and slowly makes a fist.

He’s going to punch me. The asshole’s really going to do it.

I don’t react. I give him the chance to stop himself, to bring his hand down to his side, to realize exactly what he’s about to do, and he takes those few seconds and uses them to whiten his knuckles with a tighter fist before striking me against the jaw.

Blood fills my mouth, the metallic tang seeping to the back of my throat as he rears his arm back again. I know he’s not going to stop. I can see the manic, uncontrolled fire burning behind his eyes. He’s no longer looking at me like I’m familiar to him. I’m just the guy he needs to get through, and that addiction-fueled ignorance causes me to snap.

I move fast, slamming my fist into the side of his face and sending him falling to the floor, removing his weight off me. I scramble to my knees and strike him again, this time connecting with his nose. Blood splatters on the wood, streaks across my knuckles, and he places a hand to his face as he winces in pain.

“Come on! That’s all you got? I thought you wanted that drink,” I taunt, bringing my arm back to strike him again. A hand grabs my wrist, halts me mid-swing, and I look over my shoulder and connect with Ben seconds before he grabs under my arm and hauls me to my feet.

“What the fuck? What’s going on?” he asks, just as Ray comes walking up with a rag.

I watch as my dad takes the rag and puts it to his nose before standing up. He looks at me briefly, dropping his gaze with a disgusted shake of his head before walking through the crowd that has congregated around us.

“Hey.” Ben shoves against my chest, prompting me to look over at him. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Ray called me and said you offered to buy your dad a drink. Is that true?”

I shake my punching hand out, flexing my fingers as I watch Ray walk my dad outside. “I said I’d buy him a drink if he got past me. He didn’t.”

He frowns. “So you’re just going to start challenging your dad to fights now? You think maybe that’ll keep him from drinking? ’Cause that sounds pretty fucking stupid to me.”

I walk to the bar, ignoring Ben, and grab a couple of napkins off the counter. I hold them to my lip as he walks up to me.

“Why don’t you try talking to him? Like, actually having a conversation with him when he’s sober?”

I slowly turn my head, glare at him, and bring the napkin away from my mouth. “Oh, you mean like right now? ’Cause he is fucking sober, and he really seems to be in the mood to have a little chat with his son.” I pinch my eyes shut before focusing on the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. “He doesn’t want to talk to me. He’s probably on his way now to another bar right now where they’ll actually serve him.”

“Actually, he’s headed to the hospital.”

Ray walks behind the bar, stopping on the other side in front of us. He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his forehead with it.

“Why is he going to the hospital?” I ask, bunching up the napkins before tossing them into the trashcan behind the bar. “If he told you that, he’s lying. He’s getting drunk tonight.”

Ray folds the handkerchief and runs it around the back of his neck. “Maybe, but I’m pretty sure you broke his nose. I suggested he go get it checked out, and he wasn’t all that disagreeable. He looked like shit.” His eyes fall to my mouth. “You all right?”

I feel a tinge of guilt, but quickly swallow it down when I remember the look in Dad’s eyes before he hit me. I shrug off Ray’s question.

Ray shifts his gaze between me and a spot on the bar. “Luke, you know I’m always trying to help you out, keep your dad out of trouble and everything, but I can’t have him coming in here anymore. I told him just now if I see him walking in here again, I’m calling the cops, and I don’t mean you.”

I nod. I knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time before Ray got sick of this bullshit.

“Do what you gotta do, Ray. Let him get arrested. I don’t care anymore.” I tap the bar and turn away, walking through the crowd and out the door.

“Are you going to the hospital to check on your dad?” Ben asks, joining my side in the parking lot.

I pull my keys out of my pocket. “No. I’m going to go see Tessa.”

He chuckles softly behind me as I reach my truck. “Are you sure you wanna start another fight? You might not win that one.”