Light at the end of a tunnel

Chapter Eighteen-His son

KELLINS POV

"Thank you all for coming out tonight and supporting us. We love you guys and drive safely!", I told the large crowd right before I went backstage with the guys.

 I expected to see Hope, but she wasn't there.

I took a drink of cool water, "where's Hope?"

"She's not back here?", Nick questioned.

"Nope"

"Maybe she's in the bathroom"

"Or she went back to the bus.", Jack suggested.

"But why? She always waits for us back here."

"She was having a rough day, dude, maybe she went to go clear her head."

Despite the possibilities the guys told me, I couldn't help but to have a terrible feeling about this. Sitting my water down, I walked to the back where the restrooms were. After checking the bathroom, which was empty,  I exited the bathroom with a sigh, where was Hope?

"She's not in the bathroom.", I announced.

"Let's go check the bus."

We all walked outside and to the bus, where Hope wasn't.

"But her bag is here. She wouldn't leave without it."

"Joe! Have you seen Hope?", Gabe asked.

"Not since she left for the show with you guys."

If she's not at the show, the bathroom, or the bus then where the hell is she?

HOPES POV

I felt sick. So sick. I expected nothing but terrible abuse and mental pain, but somehow it was worse than I thought it would be. I was stuck in the attic packaging drug deals for Austin (he didn't trust me to deliver them), and when I finished I was still stuck in the muggy attic with literally nothing but an old moldy and flimsy mattress.  Sometimes I was allowed out of the attic, but that was only when I had to clean the house, cook or when Austin decided it was time for a beating. I hated it here, I hated everything. It was so unfair. I do not wish this type of hell on anyone, but why me? Why couldn't one thing just go right for me? Why did Austin have to find me? Why couldn't I just get away forever?

Austin entered the attic, interrupting my thoughts.

"Let's go", he said, gripping my arm and dragging me into the small living room. The cool air welcomed me, as I shivered.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and go cook some breakfast?", Austin bitterly suggested.

Without saying a word, I simply went straight to the kitchen and got out the eggs and bacon, along with a can of biscuits. I pre-heated the over as I prepared the eggs and bacon. When the oven beeped, indicating that it had reached four hundred and twenty five degrees, I slipped the biscuits in the oven and froze. Memories of cooking when I was a child flooded back to me. When I was making a pizza and burned it completely, Austin forced me to eat the whole thing by myself. Or one time when I was cooking hamburgers and when they were done, I was cleaning the kitchen. I went to pour the steaming hot grease out and accidently spilled some in the floor, Austin poured the rest of the grease on my hand as a punishment. God, that hurt like a bitch. My hand burned and burned, as if it was on fire. The worst part was when I found relief in cool water, Austin almost drowned me. I was being a big cry baby. I needed to suck it up. And so I did, but when my hand became swollen and pussy and I couldn't complete my chores, Mom and Austin had no other choice than to take me to the ER. I had second degree burns, it was close to being third degree burns. The doctor gave me some Polysporin Triple Action and recommended Tylenol or Advil for the unbearable pain, bandaged me up, then sent me home right after telling me how lucky I was. I could still hear his deep annoying voice in my head.

I guess no good deed goes unpunished, huh?, he joked.

You're a lucky girl, Hope.

Just be more careful when you're cooking dinner.

I hated that and being here and his voice. Yeah, I am so lucky. I felt like screaming, "I TRIED! BUT HE BURNED ME! HE TRIED TO KILL ME! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME, PLEASE. GOD, HELP ME!"

Instead I kept my mouth shut and nodded my head, as I was told unless I was asked a direct question, just as we practiced, Mom told me.

Feeling annoyed, I slammed the oven door shut and bit my lip, fighting back the tears. That was the thing about me, I couldn't stay angry very long. Why? Because my anger would dissolve into tears. I wiped the tears away and forced them back, which was just in time because Austin came into the kitchen.

"Where the hell is my food?", he growled. He was angry, I could tell. I just hoped he would not take his anger out on me. But what good would that do? That was reason why I got beat most of the time.

"Here.", I said, handing him the plate, "the uhh.. biscuits aren't done yet"

He examined it for a moment, "Well hurry the hell up and make your Mom a plate."

"I will."

I made Mom a plate and gave it to her, I was ready to return to the kitchen when the door bell rang.

"Answer that.", Mom demanded.

I sighed and went to the door and opened it. My knees instantly went weak, my head was spinning, my stomach turned with uneasiness, I felt like vomiting. Scratch that, I had to vomit. There right in front of me was Josh.

"Well well well..", Josh trailed off smirking at me.

"Josh! Oh, what a lovely surprise.", Mom gushed.

Josh entered, I still felt sick. Oh God, I'm going to puke..

But somehow I managed to ask, "What is he doing here?"

"Josh is my son.", Austin announced.

I puked right then and there, right on Josh's shoes.

I guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree.