Four Years Ago, Tyler POV.
“Get your sorry ass back here, Tyler. I wasn’t done talking to you.” The gruff slurs echoed around the barren room as I continued walking away.
“You haven’t been able to tell me what to do since I was twelve, Allen. Stop trying.” I noticed the headlights shining through the cracked living room window and picked up my pace.
“Show some damn respect for your father, you ungrateful waste of skin,” he growled from behind me. The old torn up reclining chair smacked painfully against the wall as he forcefully stood up.
My eyes rolled back into my head as I came to a stop just mere inches from the front door and turned around. His dirty black hair was slicked back, the thinness of the strands showing off the bald spot near the peak of his round head. The baggy sweatshirt that loosely hung off his torso was a deep red color that matched his bloodshot eyes perfectly as they stared back at me absentmindedly.
The stench of whiskey seeped out of his breath and ignited a gag from deep within my throat.
“You seem to have forgotten your place here. You are not my dad,” I spat through clenched teeth as I broadened my shoulders in front of the sorry excuse of a man that I had come to know as my step-dad.
“I think it’s you that’s forgotten your place here, boy. As long as your momma has me here, under this roof, this is my place,” the rat seethed, his lips pulled back to expose his decaying, yellow teeth.
“The only reason you’re here is because I haven’t thrown your scum ass out on the street.”
Even his chuckle was enough to send vicious shivers up my spine. The menacing smirk that danced on his chapped lips used to be enough to send me running away in fear, luckily things changed.
“If you have such a problem with how I run things in my house, then why don’t you go find somewhere else to live?” He raised a bushy eyebrow as he questioned me, his lips still pulled tight in their creepy smirk.
“Wow, that’s a great idea. Too bad I’m too busy paying to keep this house from being taken back by the bank to focus on finding somewhere else to live. Not all of us can rely on our drug dealing buddies to pay our bills,” I bit back.
His smirk quickly morphed into a tight line, and I watched expectantly as he closed the distance between us and shoved a thin, shaking finger into my chest. “That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day, boy. Mark my words.”
“I’ll be waiting anxiously for the day it does. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Allen, my rides here.” A cocky grin spread across my lips as I took a step back and watched the finger that was shoved into my chest as it quickly fell to his side. I could feel the anger radiating off of him as I dismissed him, and I couldn’t help but let my smirk slide up into a proud smile.
Raising my hand, I gave him a small wave before walking through the front door. The sticky heat hit me like a brick as I moved down the sidewalk and to the black car waiting for me beside an old oak tree. Pulling out the pack of cigarettes taking up space in my pocket, I peeled it open and grabbed a single stick, lighting it before I brought it up to my lips and took a deep puff.
The car honked and I didn’t hesitate to throw up my middle finger in their direction before taking another puff and throwing the cigarette down on the sidewalk, stomping it out with my biker boots.
Reaching over, I pulled open the car door and inhaled the thick smell of weed before shaking my head and sitting in the passenger seat. I heard the other passengers greet me, only to get a lazy, two-finger wave in return before the car took off down the black, tar road.
And there it was, another night that I couldn’t wait to forget.