Jax

Sitting in the driveway in my truck, I stare at my parents’ house.

I hate this place, but I’m here for her. That doesn’t make it any easier though. Each time I come home, my chest tightens, and every muscle in my body coils, ready for any blow that’s thrown my way.

My parents aren’t abusive to their kids. They reserve that treatment for each other.

When I was younger, they were in love, the sickening kind of love that would make bystanders swoon. They supported each other and me, but something happened over the years. They began to hate each other, despising the other so much that they could barely exist in the same room together.

They began fighting, like starting a war out of loading the dishwasher the wrong way, every day.

I don’t know what happened to make them hate each other, and I’ve never cared enough to ask.

I exit my truck, pinching the bridge of my nose. I slam the door, and with heavy footsteps, I move up the driveway.

My parents created my sister, Sam, out of desperation, trying to save their marriage by bringing another kid into the world, but it didn’t work.

Sam’s four years old, and she is possibly the cutest little girl on the planet. Her hair is a rich brown, and she has gray eyes, matching my own. She has a button nose and an endless number of freckles covering her tiny face.

The girl has me wrapped around her finger so tight that, if she asked for the sky, I would die from trying to give it to her.

I stand at the front door, staring at the red paint. I flex my hands at my sides as I take a deep breath.

Sam doesn’t deserve to have parents who have explosive fights when she’s sitting five feet away. She shouldn’t be living like this.

I come over whenever I can. With my course load, it’s a struggle to be here as much as I want to.

With reluctance, I open the door and step inside the house.

Whenever I’m home, I have to listen to each of my parents tell me what an asshole the other one is. It’s not the best parenting if you ask me—not that I need parenting anymore. It’s the times when they’re so worked up, I hate the most. That’s when they lash out at me, throwing accusations at me that I know they don’t mean, but it still strikes a chord.

Tell a horse it’s a dog so many times, and eventually, the horse believes it’s a dog.

I walk through the house with my back straight, feeling like my spine is made of cement. I pass the empty living room and vacant dining area. Maybe I can get out of here without any confrontation.

With one foot on the bottom step, I pause.

“What are you doing here?” my dad asks.

I flip around and see him leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping from his mug.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there was alcohol mixed in with whatever he’s drinking.

“I’m here to get Sam.” I clear my throat, trying to sound more confident in my answer. “We’re going to see a movie.”

“I didn’t hear you ask.”

“No, you didn’t.” I stalk up the stairs, not bothering to ask his approval to take my sister out for the day.

Seeing as how my mom and dad can’t stand each other, they never take my sister out, not even without the other. They’ve lost their drive to be parents, to act like adults.

They need to put me and Sam out of our misery and go their separate ways. It would make life easier on all four of us.

I head to Sam’s room that’s next to my old room—a room I haven’t bothered to step foot in since I left. Everything behind that door was forgotten for a reason. Because it’s tainted with memories I’d rather forget.

I push open Sam’s bedroom door, my eyes searching for the one girl who has stolen my whole heart. I smile wide when I see her playing with a doll next to her closet, lost in her own world.

“Hey, Munchkin,” I call out, startling her.

“Jax!” she screeches, barreling toward me and tackling my legs. “Come play with me.” She lets go of my legs and tugs on my hand, guiding me through her room.

“I have a better idea.” I pick her up and playfully toss her on the bed. “Get dressed, and we’ll go to the movies. I’ll buy you all the popcorn and candy you want. Then, we’ll go to the store, and I’ll buy you a new toy to play with.”

Her eyes widen in excitement as she stands on her bed and jumps up and down, giggling to her heart’s content.

When she settles down, she jolts off the bed, heading straight to her closet, scanning the minuscule amount of clothing.

I make a mental note to buy her new clothes. A little girl shouldn’t have only ten shirts hanging in her closet.

She deserves so much more.

With a heavy sigh, I leave her alone to change, moving downstairs to the living room to wait on her.

My mom is seated on the couch, mindlessly flipping through a magazine. “You could stay here, ya know,” she says, not bothering to look at me.

I know she means I could stay here while I hang out with Sam, but it takes me back to the decision I made to move out, leaving my sister behind to fend for herself.

I make quick work of throwing on my clothes, knowing I’m already running late for my first class. I glance at the time on my phone, noting I have five minutes to make the twenty-minute drive.

Fuck!

I rush out of my bedroom, but I stop cold in my tracks when I see Sam cowering in the hallway with Walker’s head on her lap. I stride toward her, crouching down before her, and wipe away the lone tear falling down her cheek.

“What happened?” I softly ask her, not wanting to scare her more than she already is.

She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “They were yelling. It scared me,” she whimpers as Walker licks her arm.

That’s nothing new, but they must have been having one of their epic screaming matches that they reserve for their bedroom.

Screw class. I need to make sure she isn’t going to sit here crying all day.

“Do you wanna watch cartoons? It’ll make you feel better.”

“Okay,” she replies, her face red and blotchy.

I pick her up and carry her to her room. I sit her on the bed, and Walker jumps up, curling up by her side. I pull the covers over her and grab the remote off the nightstand. I switch on the television and turn it to her favorite channel. I drop the remote next to her and scrub a hand down my face.

I wish I could stay and make everything better for her.

“You gonna be okay?” I ask.

She keeps her eyes on the television screen. “Yeah.”

“Stay with Walker.” I place a kiss to her forehead before I walk away. I feel like an ass, but what else can I do? I’ve told my parents over and over how I feel about them being together, how they’re screwing up Sam for life. God only knows how this is going to affect her when she’s older.

I slip down the stairs, noting the broken glass on the ground in the kitchen. Mom is at the sink, doing dishes, like nothing happened when something so obviously did.

“Go take care of your daughter,” I say, my voice tight, holding back the anger threatening to break through.

“She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not. If you cared, you’d know that.”

She scoffs, turning to me. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She raises an eyebrow.

“I’m surprised you know I’m in school since you can only be bothered to go to work and fight with Dad.”

She stares at me, challenging me to say more, and I would, but I don’t have the time.

I turn away from her and walk out the door, hopping in my truck and leaving my sister alone with people who don’t seem to notice she’s even there.

Mom tosses her magazine on the floor, picking up another one from the coffee table.

I moved out of this house and never looked back a year ago. I couldn’t deal with the yelling when I was studying, and I was late to my first class every day. My grades were taking a hit, and I knew it was time to put myself first.

I squeeze my eyes as my throat tightens.

I battle with the decision I made from time to time, but it’s for the best because I can focus on finishing school.

I open my eyes with a sigh. I just have to keep telling myself I’m doing the best I can.

When I graduate, I can take Sam with me, giving her a life she warrants.

At this point, I don’t think my parents would care if I took her today and never came back. They probably wouldn’t even notice.

“We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I say, ignoring Mom’s comment.

She mutters incoherently to herself as she keeps her eyes trained on the magazine in her hand.

I notice the bags under her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to be tired. Her right leg bounces, and her free hand taps the couch cushion, like she can’t sit still for more than a second. It’s like she’s on over drive.

“I’m ready,” Sam announces, barreling down the stairs, sounding like a herd of cattle with her two little feet banging against each step.

She jumps in my arms, and I effortlessly catch her.

“Let’s go have some fun.”

She smiles and says, “’Kay. Bye, Mom.”

She waves, but Mom doesn’t say a word. I scowl at her lack of response, wishing she remembered how to be a mom. I run out the front door before Sam has a chance to notice the woman who gave birth to her seemingly has no interest in her.