Burning Betrayal

33 | Ranging Thoughts

JAKE FLORENCE was seating uncomfortably on the edge of the chair in a café. His elbows were leaning onto the table, and his hands held his forehead for support.

"Jake!" his dad yelled from afar, "Grab my phone and dial 911! Make sure Riley and Clare are in their rooms. Lock the doors and close the windows."

The boy's head pounded with pain from the nausea that's climbing up his veins.

"What the fuck were you doing?" the same man slammed the door shut, "I didn't raise a failure, Jake. Don't make me show up in the principal's office just because of your god damn anger issues," his hand gripped onto the cheeks of the twelve-year-old, "Do you understand?!"

His vision blurred from the sight of his own feet being far away from his grip.

"Jake," the same pair of fingers handed the eighteen-year-old an envelope with a deep sigh, as his eyes trailed down at the young boy, "This school tuition is too fucking expensive."

When he's still and unfocused, his mind can't help but reminisce about the awful past he used to face.

"Hey, kid," the newly given envelope was crumbled inside the man's hand, "Why don't you find a job of your own so you could go cloud 9 and buy everything you want, hm? Doesn't sound easy, right?" the paper was shoved into the boy's mouth, the older's hand gripping onto the younger's shoulder later on, "Well, it's fucking not!"

He wants to go home and chug one gallon of whiskey to make the pain go away, but he can't.

"Just get a god damn job," the man whispered as machines beeped through the background, "Kid, it's not for me," the cold room temperature wasn't helping with Jake's freezing hands and irregular heartbeat, "It's for you."

The younger stood from his seat, while his gaze directly staring towards the man with a hospital gown, "Then what? I'll settle for a stupid job in McDonald's? Be a fucking janitor?!"

The weak lad then smiled, "Talk to Clyde Harper."

Jake's fingers intertwined themselves with his hair. Some strands broke from the sudden force.

"Mom," the boy's sharp gaze averted towards the empty alcohol bottles laying on the floor, "Can you stop fucking drinking? Do you have a death wish or something?!"

The drunk lass poured liquid onto a shot glass, offering it to the standing boy.

"Just try one shot," she hiccups.

Jake took the glass off of her fingers without hesitation. He forcefully pushed the harsh fluid down his stomach.

"Addicting, right?" the lady chuckles.

Her arms opened later on.

"Come here," she whispered as tears fell of the cliff of her eyes.

A wide smile creeped up her face seconds later, "Can't my own son give me a hug?"

"Steaming-cold coffee!" Clyde's voice interfered, "Coming through!"

With two cups of iced americano on the older's hand, he sat across the pale boy.

"Hey, kiddo," worry wrinkled onto the his eye brows, "You good?"

"Don't act all innocent, dickhead."

A sly smirk landed on Clyde's lips, "Language, kid."

"I need to go."

Jake stood from his seat, but the other rested his back onto the chair as he stared at the lad with a mischievous look.

"One more step, I'll drag your job down the pithole."

The younger's head hung low, "For fucks sake," his fingers started squeezing his temples; anger evident in his voice as he speaks, "What do you want?"