Twenty Five

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

TW/ suicidal thoughts


Family.

      They're suppose to be the people you can always count on to have your back. They're suppose to cherish you, sympathize with you, help you when you need help and most importantly they're suppose to love you. The love they should have for you should be deeply rooted into your soul. It should consume them like a whirlpool viciously swirling in hopes of claiming another victim.

     Sure my father showed me love—in his own way—his love always had strings attached to it.

"I love you mija," He would say in his deep Bolivian accent. "But if you don't shoot Richard I'll shoot Sebastían in his vertebrate."

     I remember when I first saw my father hit Bash. Bash was only interested in reading books, and solving math problems for fun. Bash kept refusing to learn how to shoot a gun. Dad must have been in an extremely bad mood because the next thing I know Dad heavy hand slammed against eight year old Bash face. The sound of the wing mirror breaking as my dad punched Bash so hard in his face, to the point of making it impossible for him to stand on his feet. I can remember the sound of my terrified scream erupting from my throat as I dashed toward my fallen brother.

My father pushed me out of the way before I could even reach Bash. My screams mixed in with Bash painful cries of pain were deafening to the ear. My bottom was in pain because I had fell backwards, dad henchmen had helped me up. They had refused to let me aid my injured brother. Once dad was done, he had apologized to me for pushing me down on the ground. He proceeded to teach me how to shoot a .9mm. Every now and then I would look at Bash who had managed to set him self up right against the black truck.

He flinched and his breathing was very shallow. Dad abuse didn't stop there he tried suffocating Bash with a pillow, he shot him in the leg and even burned him a couple times. I use to find Bash in his room, specifically in a corner of his chosen with his knees bent and his hands placed on opposite sides of his head. He would be struggling to breathe and his heart would be slamming so hard against his chest you could metaphorically see it.

As I watch the two of them batter back and forth I notice subtle signs that Bash is about to have a panic attack. He continuously wipes his hands on his black suit bottoms, his chest is rising at an unsteady pace. One would think he is angry but I know it's cause he is fighting his anxiety.

"What's going on?" I finally speak up after realizing neither one of them were going to notice my presence.

Immediately dad turns towards me. "Hola mija."

He held his arms out for a hug, cautiously I walked towards him and allowed him to engulfed me in his cool water aura.

"Hola papa," I replied as I pulled out of his hug and looked between him and Bash. "Que va a en aqui?"

"Father, son disagreement." He replied sending a sharp look in Bash direction.

Bash roughly ran his hand through his hair, then sat on the edge of the mahogany desk table. Under his teal eyes were small bags indicating the amount of stress he has been under these pass couple of days.

"Bash are you alright?" I questioned. He kept rubbing his hands on his pants leg and his right leg kept bouncing up and down at a rapid face.

"He's fine mija, stop babying him." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and turned us so we could walk out the door.

"But-" I tried to protest, I even tried to glance back at Bash but dad had me in a tight grip making it impossible to turn around.

"Tell me about school, Are you keeping your grades up?"

Preston scoffed as we walked pass him, causing me to send daggers in his directions. "About that I k-"

"Hey Reign, Have you seen Seb?" Charlie questioned as she strutted down the freshly polished marble walk way.

"Quien es este?" Dad questioned. (Who is this?)

"Charlie ella es Sebastian novia." (Charlie she is Sebastian girlfriend)

He made a 'hmm' sound before blanking staring at her. Charlie stood awkwardly in front of me her brown hair was completely slicked back, she was wearing a red satin jumpsuit instead of pants the top part was connected with shorts. Of course she was wearing black heels that matched with the black choker around her neck.

"Hi, Mr. Morrow." The red lipstick on her lips instantly followed the smile on her face. She stuck her hand out to shake dads.

Dad just looked at her hand, then looked at her face.

"Papa..."

"You look familiar." Dad scrutinized Charlie with the same teal eyes Bash possessed.

"Um—"

"Por que es mi hijo novia una gringa?"

"Dad!" I gasped in shock.

      My eyes were wider than the distance between earth and the sun. Dad has expressed his desire for us to only get involved with people of color. He even threatened to disown us if we brought a caucasian home. I thought he was joking. Charlie looked at us with a frown clearly not understanding my dad offensive statement.

"I'm sorry I don't understand Spanish," Charlie replied with a nervous smile. "Translation?"

"He said Bash is in the back office." I retorted.

"I actually said Why is my son girlfriend a w—" Dad countered my translation.

     I quickly pinched his side causing him to look down and frown at me. His thick black eyebrows were pulled together, his envious eyelashes helped him glance at me through his teal colored eyes.

"Tienes simpatíco estar!"

"Where are your bodyguards?" Dad questioned me as he directed us straight pass Charlie completely dismissing her existence.

"Sebastían had strict orders to assign Preston and Jett to your detail." His thick Spanish accent caressed every word as he frowned when he took in our surroundings.

"I don't need bodyguards." I softly replied.

"Like hell you don't!" He roared. "Are you sticking up for Sebastían mija?"

"No I'm not sticking up for Bash I just don't want bodyguards."

"It doesn't matter what you want, bodyguards are what you need. They're for your protection, maybe if Sebastían wasn't a pendejo you wouldn't have been running around with Maverick Taylor's kid!"

      I completely stop in my tracks. Who told dad about Axel? If dad came back because he heard about what Axel did to me there is no telling what he will do wants he gets Axel in his grasp. In a way Bash is soft had Dad been the one who found Axel he would've not only used Axel for information he would've also used him as target practice. One of my dad favorite type of torture is locking people in barrels. He lets them sit in barrels for hours, days, heck even weeks.

      Apparently he wants them to drive them self crazy before he gather some of his men to stand at each end of the barrel and repeatedly stab it with swords.

"This is why I'm going to demote Sebastían and retake my position as President."

"But B-"

"I'm not finished talking," Dad replied. It always amused me hearing dad speak English it always sounds as if he is ready to bust out in Spanish. "I'm going to take over and you're going to replace me since you dropped out of college."

"Dad no I don't want to take over the business."

"It's not about what you want anymore," Dad replied this time he removed his arm from around my shoulder so he could stand directly in front of me. His teal eyes were ablaze as he peered down at me. "Sebastían has proven multiple times that he is too weak to handle the business."

"Dad I—"

"That's enough," He yelled. A smile crept over his face as he place one hand on each side of my face. "You'll finally take control over what's rightfully yours."

"Sebastían is weak, you'll see you're stronger than he will ever be." He says as he brushes the salt water trailing from my eyes to my cheeks off my face. "Cheer up mija, now let's go get something to eat I'm starving."

•••

"Bash?" I questioned as I pushed the door open to his room.

We arrived home roughly an hour ago. Sebastian hasn't said anything to anyone since his argument with dad. He just went straight to his room, dad could careless he immediately dived right into rejoining the Sons as President.

"Sebastian?"

Immediately a match was lit in the dark room, then tossed successfully lighting the fireplace. Once the fireplace was bright and flaring it lit up the whole room. Bash was positioned directly in front of the fireplace giving me a clear view of his face. I walked deeper into the room shutting the door behind me. I walked towards Bash and sat down next to him. After a few moments of silence he finally spoke.

"You know it's funny, I had all plans to make the Sons legitimate. I know you have to get your hands dirty in order to clean up an illegal business. I figured he would be happy to see how much legitimate money was flowing in, you know?" His words were all over the place. Almost as if he was trying to organize his thoughts. I figured the alcohol he was drinking contributed to the confusing sentence structure.

"Maybe I'm too naïve, I believed that he could show me an ounce of gratitude or at the very least be proud of the fact that I got the Feds off our back, is that too much to ask for? All I ever wanted to know was, Why does he hate me?" He sighed as he gripped his hand around the bottle of alcohol and brought it to his lips.

He was swallowing the drink like he was trapped in the Sahara Desert and someone offered him an ice cold bottle of water after two days without food and water.

"Is it because of the mother I never met because he killed her? Is it because I prefer reading over shooting guns? Is it caused I was conceived cause he cheated on Naomi?" He continued ranting, driving himself crazy over why I dad doesn't show him any ounce of love.

I wonder where my mom is, Where dad goes she's never too far behind him. Naomi—my mom—sticks to dad side like glue. My mom is, um nice? To an extent she loves being the old lady of Sons. She never pays Bash any attention. When she does pay attention to me it's normally cause she's trying to hook me up with one of her friends stuck up sons or cause she bought me dresses that'll look sooooo cute on me.

"I don't know Bash I really don't know." I whisper into the night air.

"I just—I just want to know if I matter, if I died who would go to my funeral? Who would shed a tear over my death? Would he show up or will he just say it's about time?"

I noticed the gun in his hand, the only reason it came to my attention was cause he had picked it up from on the opposite side of his body. The cool metal laid against his open palm, taunting him.

"You do matter, you matter to me, Charlie, Preston and Jett." I whispered into the air.

"I just feel like maybe that isn't enough, you guys will be better off without me." He replied as he sat the bottle of liquor down so he could admire the deadly weapon.

"Stop talking nonsense, Bash we won't be better off without you! We love you, you're the piece that keeps us together. If you die Who is going to protect me from myself? Who is going to yell at me when I act out?"

       Instead of replying he just sighed and continued to caressed the executor.

"You're strong Ray you're stronger than I'll ever be and I'm man enough to admit it. Hell Im proud of you for being strong," He replied, the frowning of his eyebrows was evident as I peered at him through mildly blurry eyes. "Look what you just went through  with the Dark Howlers. For heaven sakes I showed Gunnar and the girl mercy after what they did to you!"

"Bas—"

"Dad is right I'm a weak and despicable person. I don't deserve to be a Morrow. He is right he should've killed me when he killed my mother. I don't deserve to breathe and I'm ok with dying."

"Bash stop it, you have so much potential! Since dad is retaking over you can become anything you want to be. You always talked about becoming a History teacher." I naively replied.

"Who is going to want to hire an alleged criminal slash murderer?" He sarcastically replied.

"Anything is better than you ending your life over what Dad said. We both know you're a kind, loving, protector. If I wasn't so selfish four years ago I would've let you pursue your dreams."

"I don't regret my choice to take over so you could have a normal—semi normal—life."

"Still if I—"

"There is no need for what if's. What's done is done, we can try to live with it or let it destroy us to the point of wanting—pleading—for death." Bash retorted as he set the gun down and picked up the bottle of liquor.

This time it was my turn to sigh. I rested my head on his shoulder and allowed the fire to captivate me. The fire controlled my wandering thoughts, neither one of us spoke. We were both conflicted, not only do I have to worry about controlling my traitorous feelings for Axel, I have to worry about Jensen dad and my dad forcing me to take over his business.

|Authors Note|

Sorry for making you all wait almost two weeks for an update. The pass week has been so stressful. I had my mind set on joining the army if Hilary was the next president. Now I'm conflicted I want to serve, but do I really want to serve under a commander in chief who I despise?

I also had writer block.

Oh and I didn't edit this Chapter at all like lo siento my Spanish because I didn't add accents. Please feel free to correct my Spanish as well instead of using google translate I tried using my years of Spanish in High School.

I hope you enjoyed this Chapter!

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net