For As Long As It Takes (boyxboy) (Editing)

Daddy Dearest

Should warn about some violence and abuse, not sexual, but physical and emotional.

Tony

I turned the key back, and listened to my truck quiet. I left all my things, knowing I wouldn't get any work done tonight anyway. Not with Logan mad at me. Again.

It seemed that I could just never do anything right, say anything right. Logan was always mad at me for something. I chuckled, hell, he'd been irritated with me the whole time he's known me.

I unlocked the front door, and closed it quietly behind me. Hopefully, my parents were asleep. Knowing my luck - "Anthony!" I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the fear that was nudging in the back of my mind. "Yes Dad." "Get in here boy!"

I shoved my keys in the pocket of my jeans and followed the sound of his voice, not that I didn't already know where he was.. Drunk in the kitchen.

Walking through the living room I seen my baby niece sleeping in the playpen Rebecca had set up. I stepped in the kitchen cautiously, "Yes Dad?" "Why the hell are you home so late?! You know you have chores," he slurred. "I had a game Dad. I told you this morning I'd be late."

He seemed to think this over for a minute before grunting and taking a swig of his favorite drink, the bottle of Jack Daniels loose in his hand. "You better have won." "We did. 10 to 4." "At least you're good at something. Good for nothing piece of shit," he grumbled. I ignored him.

Rebecca came in the kitchen smiling as usual. She kissed my cheek and made a face at the stench of the liquor, frowning at our father. "Dad, did you drink that whole bottle by yourself? Today?" "Damn straight! I worked hard all day long so I deserve a drink or two."

"Or eight," I muttered under my breath looking in the fridge for a snack.

"What the hell did you say boy?" I tensed up. You'd think I'd know better. You'd think I'd know to keep my comments to myself, to keep my mouth shut. But tonight I was distracted and honestly, I was just so frustrated. With my father, with Logan, with myself.

"I'm talking to you boy!" I felt a strong grip on my shoulder, and I was spun around. My stomach clenched as he straightened up standing to his full height, towering over me. "It was nothing. I was thinking about my game." "Don't lie to me. I wasn't born yesterday!"

A second later, before I had time to duck, I felt him spit in my face and then his fist collided with the side of my face. I stumbled back into the counter from the force, pain flaring in my back. I slid down to the floor, groaning.

"Dad! What are you doing," I heard Rebecca scream. I shot up, ignoring the pain and never felt more scared in my life when I realized that Rebecca was still in the kitchen and was witnessing this. She didn't know about any of it, and I was hoping to keep her out of it for as long as possible. Clearly, that hope was crushed now.

She rushed to my side and took my face in her hands, pulling me down to look at my now swollen shut eye. "Please Rebecca, please get out of the kitchen now and go to the baby," I whispered at her, pleading. She turned around, glaring at our father.

I pulled on her wrist, whispering, "Please. Please, no." "Dad! What the hell was that for? What did he do!?" "He's being a God damn smart ass! He needs to learn some respect!"

"You had no reason for doing that! He does not deserve to be hit like that! How could you put your hands on him like that? I don't care how drunk you are! That is not how you treat your child! Your only son! Don't ever do that again! You are drunk and need to go to sleep Dad!"

"Now wait a minute. This is my God damn house -" "Dad!" He sent me a look, that let me know he wasn't finished, before staggering out and stomping up the stairs. If looks could kills, I'd of been murdered five times over just now. She turned back to me teary-eyed and opened the freezer to grab a bag of peas.