Teen half-brothers Kain and Scott Banks, who live in a small New York fictional town called Dalton. They battle each other on the hockey rink while navigating through high school romance and drama.
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~Continuation~
I pull in my driveway, the house is completely pitch black, so I figured both my parents are asleep.
I walk in the house from the garage door. I walk down the hallway, passing the kitchen, I turn the left corner but I see a low flicker of light coming from the living room. I make a sharp right and walk in the living room. My father is sitting in the armchair with a small glass of bourbon in his left hand.
Fuck, I hate it he drinks. Especially the hard stuff.
I stay at the the threshold of the living room. I look around the room, there's a couple candles through out the room and there's a empty bottle of bourbon laying on it's side on the coffee table.
When I look back at Dad, he has his eyes fixed on me and he has an absolute disgusted fucking glare on his face.
When Davis drinks the hard stuff, his eyes get glossy and he talks smooth and low. Plus, he gets mean. Holy fuck, does he ever get fucking mean.
"How was the game?" He asks in a low voice.
His voice sends chills down my spine because I know the damn conversation is about to take a turn. And not in a good way.
"G- good." I say back hesitant.
Davis takes another sip of his drink.
I look down at the floor so I don't make eye contact with him.
"I know you lost..." Dad mutters.
"H- how?" I say shocked.
Davis releases a small laugh. "I was there." Then he gets to his feet and walks over to me.
The armchair he was just sitting in, flies back when he gets up.
Davis stands a few feet in front of me.
"Dad, I- I-" I stutter.
"You what, Kainen? You thought you were going to win? I hate to break it to you, kid but you're not fucking good enough. You're ruining the 'Banks' name!" Davis says with a evil smirk.
Davis takes a step closer to me, grabs me by collar of my sweater and cocks his arm back.
Shit, I know what he's about to do.
I screw my eyes shut and wait for him to hit me.
A few seconds later, I hear something shatter behind me. I turn my head then look down at the floor. Dad threw the glass cup he was holding at the wall.
I slowly turn my head back to him but when I look at him his right fist connects with my left eye.
The impact of the hit and the wet floor from the drink cause me to fall flat on my ass.
Dad stands over me with his fists balled and breathing heavily.
