SWNOVELS Fear The Reapers: Chapter 1
My body jolted at the sound of a hushed whisper filling my ear.
“Stevie.”
Disoriented from sleep, I rubbed my eyes and waited for the hazy figure standing next to me to come into focus. Recognition clicked and relief seeped into me. It was just Alex.
Fuck. It was Alex.
“Shit. What time is it?” I asked, swiping the drool from the corner of my mouth and almost spilling the bowl of cereal I had fallen asleep next to.
“It’s 4:37. I waited for you, but got worried when you didn’t show. I got a ride over here.” She said with a grimace.
“Fuck. We have to go. Now.” I said, shooting up from the kitchen table as I stuffed my feet back into my beat-up white sneakers.
Sleep evaded me again last night, making a quick power nap at the kitchen table turn into almost six hours of sleep.
“I’m sorry.” Alex grimaced, pacing back and forth, “I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I couldn’t just leave you here alone.”
Her heart was in the right place, but she knew better than to come home alone. Especially during one of Malcolm’s benders. Malcolm had a routine. We may not count on him as a parent, but my dear stepdad was always consistent. He was a barely functioning drug addict. He held a job, albeit a pretty shitty one. Every Friday, he’d get off of work at 4:00 PM on the dot, pick up his drugs, shoot up, and lock himself up in the house for the weekend.
Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were the days we made ourselves as scarce as possible. We had a system, and I had just royally fucked it up by falling asleep. Naps during the day seemed to be the only thing that worked for the nightmares, but I should’ve known better. I just prayed we both wouldn’t have to pay for my stupid mistake.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled her towards the front door. Passing through the hallway as quietly as possible, every step we took made my stomach drop a notch further.
Maybe he wasn’t home yet. Maybe if he was, he wouldn’t notice us. Maybe he’d already smoked and would be too high out of his mind to pay us any mind. Maybe.
We were a few feet from the door, when out of nowhere, the door flung open and in walked Malcolm.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He spat, catching us mid escape.
Still in his uniform of a navy blue jumpsuit, he spread out his arms and acted as a blockade between us and the door. Leaning forward, he inched his face towards mine and the bitter stench of sweat and stale cologne hit my nose.
Anytime Malcolm would shoot up, he would douse himself in cheap cologne, trying to mask the foul scent only desperation and days of not showering could give him. The fresh wounds and dilated pupils on his gaunt face were also dead giveaways that he was already high as a fucking kite. Fuck.
“We were just leaving.” I mumbled, pushing Alex behind me.
“No. You know the fucking drill. Hand over the cash.” He ordered with a smug smirk.
“What? No!” Alex asserted as her eyes darted between the two of us. “I saw her leave you an envelope full of cash two nights ago. We pay you rent once a month.”
“She hasn’t told you.” He said with a smirk as his dull eyes flashed towards mine.
“Told me what?” She hissed, keeping her eyes trained on the man she refused to acknowledge as her father.
“She pays when I tell her to. Period. If she doesn’t, she knows exactly what the fuck will happen.” He didn’t need to say anything further for Alex to understand the threat in his tone.
I fixed my gaze on the floor as shame licked across my skin. Everything Malcolm said was true. I wanted to tell Alex. To talk about the abuse I encountered daily at the hands of her father. But how could I reveal such an awful secret without destroying the trust between us?
“You are an asshole!” She screamed, trying to claw her way towards Malcolm’s face. “God, what the fuck was Carla thinking having a child with a lowlife like you!”
The mention of our mother’s name wiped the smirk off of Malcolm’s face. His lip twitched, and he cocked his head to the side. I knew the warning signs of Malcolm’s violence like the back of my hand. I could see what was coming and with only seconds to act, I shoved Alex as fast as I could and jumped into her place in time to receive the full force of his punishing blow.
His fist collided with my cheekbone and the impact of his swing sent my body careening for the ground. The room went quiet as my back hit the hard linoleum floor with a crack and both of their eyes followed my descent. I watched the contents of my bag spill out and scatter across the floor, and my heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. Laid out for all of us to see was the forty dollars I had set aside for groceries that week.
I glanced at Malcolm and could see the hunger in his eyes. Money fed his addiction, and he didn’t care who he harmed to get his fix. Without hesitation, he reached down, grabbed for the cash, and tucked it into his pocket as if it had always belonged to him.
I wanted to kill him. To kick and scream and claw for my money back. But fighting him was pointless. He would only get more aggressive if I tried to stop him and with Alex here, I couldn’t risk it. I could deal with his violence, but she shouldn’t have to.
Malcolm disappeared before we even had time to process what happened. That was the one redeeming quality about my stepfather. Once he got what he wanted, he left us the hell alone. At least until the next time he needed something.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex whispered as she helped me pick up the contents of my bag.
My words lodged in my throat. What was I supposed to say? I lied because it was easier. I lied because I didn’t think she could handle the truth and it was the only way I could protect her. I lied because it was what I always did.
Alex was still in her last week of high school and whether she liked it or not, my job as her big sister was to keep her safe. I was the one who could afford the bruise already forming on my cheek. She couldn’t. Her teachers would ask questions, and CPS might try to take her away. Alex was Malcolm’s biological daughter. Because of our mother’s passing, he had full custody of her until she was eighteen.
We tried to run away before, but once Malcolm realized that the money disappeared, he reported her missing. The cops found my car and shit hit the fan. Alex almost had to repeat ninth grade, and I barely escaped criminal charges.
In two weeks, she’d be eighteen and we could be free of Malcolm and this fucking town for good. But until then, we needed to keep a low profile and avoid him as much as possible. June 16th couldn’t come soon enough.