The Loner and the Prep (bxb)

Chapter Twelve

Watson P.O.V

It was woken up by the sound of my father and another female yelling at each other. Whoever this woman was, she most definitely came here as one of my father's one-night stands. He brings them home every so often, but it doesn't happen that much. Most women don't like how a pot-belly looks. If my dad stopped drinking and tried to get his life together, he'd have been able to bring so many more women home than he currently is. I know it frustrates him when females turn him down. I instantly rolled over attempting to slam my spare pillow over my head to tune the yelling out. To make the loud screaming voices to go away. Unfortunately, my pillow technic didn't work. The yelling was so loud and overpowering that I couldn't tune it out any longer. I knew I'd have to step in soon. Otherwise, the neighbors would call the police. It wouldn't look very good in my fathers favor if he went to jail for something like this. I knew that if I didn't step in soon, he might hit whoever he is arguing with. He's done it before. It took me panicking and bribing her with a hundred dollars for her not to contact the police.

I force myself to exit the bed and fling on a pair of pants since I slept in a shirt and boxers the night before. I open my door, which was a pitiful excuse of a door in the first place. Last time I checked, doors aren't supposed to have punch marks on them. Although none of them have burst through the door yet, they were very obvious on the other side of the door. I close my door behind me.

I walk down the stairs slowly, listening to the arguing that is currently taking place in the living room. The closer I got to the living room, the louder the screaming was. It made me kind of sick to my stomach that I had a father who would yell at a woman. It made me even sicker to think that a father, a man who is supposed to love and cherish you, is causing you daily harm. Unless I'm wrong, fathers aren't supposed to treat you like trash underneath them. I'm supposed to be cherished, considered a gift, a blessing. Instead, I have grown used to being treated like a punching bag.

I peak my head around the corner of the doorway that leads into the brightly lit living room to see a woman wearing lingerie and my father wearing poorly flung on boxers. They clearly just finished . . . whatever they were doing and now was usually when the arguing and fighting kicked in. I knew my father wasn't a romantic by any means so it wasn't shocking that girls instantly got repulsed once they've met a sober-ish version of my father. I know, it isn't worth seeing at that point anymore.

"You are an ass! That isn't what you say to a woman like that!" The female yelled at my fathers face, throwing her hands into the air as if that would make the words she's saying appear to be more important and stressed. She didn't appear, to me, that is, that she was actually going to have a true argument to yell about. I hated that kind. The kind who yelled about the smallest things. The ones who picked fights just to pick fights. The kind who made it their job to get guys like my dad in jail when they started it. As much as my dad deserved to be put in the hole, I didn't want it to be for assault or battery. Girls like this woman, would lie and add false accusations of rape and sexual assault.

"I didn't say anything about you!" My father yelled back at her, his fists clenching at his side as his temper appeared to begin to flare uncontrollably. This would have been where he'd begin to harm me. He was holding back for this crazy woman.

"So you didn't say that I was a slut for the grabbing!" She yelled at him, pointing a finger accusingly at him.

'Well honey if you went out dressed like that . . . ' I examine her outfit, internally wincing. My father did say things in the heat of the moment. If he said it under the influence or during his waves of lust then he could have actually said it. It doesn't look like it's that far from the truth though . . .

My father didn't say anything in response and I knew that it was my time to step in.

"Excuse me . . . " I say, the woman's eyes instantly snapping over to me, anger in her eyes. "Can you please leave, I can't sleep with all the yelling," I state calmly, shoulders slumped when I saw anger ignite inside of her eyes, making the previously calm flames turn into a blaze.

"Are you KIDDING ME!!" She screamed looking at me and then back at my dad. "You said you weren't in a relationship!!" She screamed making me look at her in confusion, my dad looking rather lost as well.

"What do you mean . . . ? " I mumble, speaking for myself and my father.

"You stupid twink!" She yelled at me, looking over at me with disgust in her eyes, making my train of thought freeze for a moment. "I better not have HIV because your f*cking gay!" She screamed before storming over to my father and slapping him in the face while he simply looked at her like she was freaking insane.

My confusion was instantly lifted when I realized what she meant. She thought me and my dad were . . . I'm going to be sick! That is disgusting! This man abuses me and she thinks I'm his . . . significant other? This woman is insane! She is also kind of a dramatic b*tch.

She turned away from my dad, walking to the doorway before pushing me to the ground saying, "Get out of my way you dumb whore!" She screamed at me, before she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Her words hurt but I think karma kicked in when I heard something from outside.

The sound of her cursing as one of her six-inch heels breaks and she falls onto the ground.

I force myself off of the ground, forcing myself to forget the words that the woman had yelled at me, knowing she was wrong. I wasn't anything she said of me. I'm not a whore. I'm not my dads . . . significant other. I hate it when people assume something like that. She has no idea the bull that I have to go through and she's yelling at me for something she's assumed to be true. The nerve of some people. I make myself go back upstairs to my room, knowing that I can finally go back to sleep since it was only two in the morning. I needed my sleep and it doesn't help when my father decides to bring a one-night stand who turned out to be evil into the house.

I hated my father for things like this . . .