Adam Smith - Part 5

The caster on the chair was digging into his shin, but after five minutes his leg had fallen asleep so he couldn't feel the pain anymore. It was dark and his back was pressed up against the solid wood of the desk.

"Boy! Where are you, you little shit?"

It had been fifteen minutes since he shattered the plate while cooking his morning pancakes and in doing so woke his moms current asshole from a stupor on the couch.

"When I find you...your ass is grass!"

It was Saturday morning and usually after the Friday night stumble home from the bar Adam was safe until about two in the afternoon and at that point he was long gone out in the woods behind the house.

The light turned on in the hallway. He could hear crusty socks shuffling along the linoleum floor. The closet door opened and slammed shut.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are."

This was his dad's old office and no one, not a soul was allowed in here. This was the first instruction that was given to anyone that came through the front door. A boyfriend, a girlfriend, a schoolmate, even the one night fuck of the week was told, "If you so much as look towards that door and think about touching the handle, I will crucify you like St. Peter, hanging you upside down so you can choke on your own shit and piss." But the crucifier was passed out and had apparently locked her current beau out of the bedroom due to some triviality.  Adam could hear the shuffling stop outside of the closed door and see the shadow of two legs blocking the light, making the morse code for the letter R.

Did he lock the door? He thought he did but couldn't remember. There was a rap on the door, not the sound of a knuckle covered in fatty flesh but that of metal. Without thinking his hand reached towards his face and the fading bruise under his cheekbone. He could still see the gold ring and the impression it made on his face after coming out of his room after 6:00pm last Tuesday. It was a school night and "didn't he know that kids were supposed to be in bed so that the adults could have some fucking alone time?" The door handle rattled - three times, he counted - but didn't open.

Adam's heart slowed, he rested his head against his knees and closed his eyes.