Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
These people didn’t know how Robert Mason really was, not unless they had lived under the same roof as the drunken man.
Robert had liked to come home and take down a twelve pack of beer, liked to start shit with his wife and son because he hated his job, his life, and had no one else to take out that anger on.
Robert Mason had liked beating his son, verbally abusing his wife, and slapping her around because he was a worthless piece of shit human that should never have had a family.
Standing between his mother and grandmother, Toby listened to them sniff out their sadness. How could his mom mourn the death of a man who had tormented her for years? Did she not feel any relief that her nightmare was finally over?
He looked at his mother, the shell of a woman she used to be before she was hit every day, emotionally and verbally cut down, and tried to save her son who was caught in it all.
God, his childhood had been filled with a lot of anger and fear on his part, and it hadn’t been until he was old enough to fight back that he finally put a stop to his father’s tirades.
But as he stared at his mother, saw her red-rimmed eyes, the tears that streamed down her face, he knew this was all she had ever known. That was why she’d stayed, even though Toby had told her to leave, to live with him in Silver Springs.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt nothing as he stared at the coffin that held his father’s corpse. Robert’s heart had just exploded in his chest, stopped working because of the years of drinking and stress he’d put on his body.
The priest softly spoke, reading from his black leather-bound Bible.
Placed on top of the casket was a bundle of white roses, so pure and innocent that it was the opposite of what Robert Mason had been. Toby wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulder, pulled her in close, and listened to her cry harder.
As he watched the coffin slowly sink into the earth, he felt this sense of freedom, and how fucked up was that?
The music overhead was somber, slow, and made the entire atmosphere even more depressing, although Toby still felt nothing, was void of emotion inside of him, and he knew that this was how he would always feel.
He hadn’t loved his father for far too long, had hated him in fact, and this was just another step in the direction that Toby had always dreamed of when he had been lying in bed with a black eye courtesy of his father.
He stared out his mother’s living room window, saw the cars continue to pull up and park, and saw the black dressed people make their way into the house.
Bringing his red Solo cup to his mouth, he drank half of the vodka. He wasn’t about to drink the lemonade people were handing out. He needed something stronger to get through this fucked-up time.
“Hey, man.”
The sound of Ace Renaldo’s voice behind Toby had him turning and staring at the guy that had been his best friend while growing up. “Well shit, man. It’s been a long time.” They clasped each other on the back, and when he pulled away he saw the uncomfortable expression on his face. “How in the hell did you find me?”
“Believe it or not, your mom is the one who found me. About a week before your dad passed away she found my phone number and address, thinking getting us to reunite would be good. Your mom’s like a detective.” He grinned.
His mother had a good, pure heart. It was just a damn shame she had gotten involved with his drunken, piece of shit father.
“You look well, though,” Ace said and smiled. “Lots of people turned out for him.”
Yeah, Ace knew the truth about what Toby had gone through on a daily basis with his dad. Ace had gone through the same thing, only a lot more violent, in his own home. Growing up next door to a guy that had been going through the same horrific life had been a godsend when Toby had nowhere else to turn and no one else to talk to.
But then Ace had left right before freshman year of high school. That had been the time Toby had started fighting back with his father, not letting the violence continue without a fight.
“Toby, it’s been a lot of years, brother.”
He’d thought of Ace as a brother, the closest thing he had to a best friend, and the closest member of his family he ever had. But the years had passed, they had lost touch, and this was the first time he had seen Ace since the summer before the ninth grade.