#TheFighter #FoundationSeries #Comingofage #Mustread
My reflexes had never been sharper. My heart was racing a mile a minute. I gulped loudly then glanced back at the wall which had just been assaulted by our former toaster. In fact, the wall may have lost, judging by the gaping hole staring back at me.
He was drunk again. Not surprising. What was surprising is that he hadn’t drank himself to oblivion yet—and was still conscious. Normally I could slip out unnoticed in the mornings. The nights were more challenging. After Jax passed away my father went full on looney toons. Ape shit. Lost his job and everything else. Now, he could be found spending his days drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack and blaming me for his troubles. It didn’t help that I was the identical resemblance to the son he lost. I got punished almost daily for it.
“You worthless piece of shit,” he snarled at me, slurring his words. That was his favorite insult, other than the obvious, ‘why wasn’t it you’ bit.
Buy Now -