“Richard”—my mom sounded so wounded—“it’s Christmas.”

  “So?” He slammed his hands on top of the table with so much force that his glass started to wobble. I silently wished it would fall. “Christmas means what? That we pretend he isn’t coming here as soon as he graduates? That he doesn’t have a responsibility to uphold? That he didn’t sign a contract?” he shouted, each question growing in volume. “When you start working for the company in June—” he started, launching into the same lecture he’d given me a hundred times before.

  Baseball didn’t factor into his mind at all. The draft wasn’t even on his radar. What I wanted never mattered.

  “I don’t want to work for you,” I said in a calm tone, but his face turned an unusual shade of red as I said it. “I don’t know why you can’t accept that. I have zero interest in your company or having a job there.”

  “That’s non-fucking-negotiable, and you know it,” he yelled, slamming his fist on the table again. His glass did topple this time, spilling the contents all over the floor.

  “Dad—” I tried to sound reasonable, but there would be no reasoning with the man.

  “You signed a contract. We made a deal. You will abide by the terms of said agreement,” he chastised me, acting like some deranged business partner.

  “I was just a kid. I wanted to go play baseball. I would have signed anything you asked me to.” I started to get emotional. I was tired of playing nice. Tired of tiptoeing around the fact that the last thing I wanted to do on this fucking planet was work for or with him.

  “Just like your mother. Always leading with your emotions instead of your fucking brain.”

  “Why would you want to force me to do something I don’t want to do?”

  “Force you? I’m giving you a gift. God, Mackenzie, you can’t even see the opportunity I’m handing you. Other kids would kill for this much money and influence, and all you do is disrespect it. You’ve been that way since you first held a bat in your hands. I never should have allowed it. Ruining your life for a game. A game you aren’t even that good at.” He tossed the last words like an arrow, sending them straight into my soul. They burned on contact, killing a part of me.

  “You really hate me that much?” My heart ached with the realization as I pushed to a stand.

  “Yes!” he screamed, and I almost passed out from the shock, but at least he’d admitted it. “You ruined everything!” he kept yelling, and I had no idea what he meant. “You were supposed to be like me. But instead, you’re just like her,” he screamed the words like they disgusted him as he pointed at my mother, who was watching the two of us through terrified eyes. “Chasing dreams in your head instead of money, like two fools. You’re nothing but a disappointment, and I hate that you’re my son. Anyone would have been better than you.”

  “Shut up! Just shut the hell up!” I yelled.

  He stood up and threw his chair away from his body. It hit the floor with a crash. He stalked over to me, and I stood firm, but I was scared to death. I’d seen Dick mad before, but I’d never seen him downright murderous, the way he looked right now.

  “Watch your ungrateful fucking mouth,” he spat as he spoke.

  I refused to back down. I stood my ground and puffed out my chest. “What are you going to do? Hit me?” I taunted.

  He’d never once gotten physical in the past, but he looked like he was about to lose what little self-control he had left.

  “Do it then. Since you hate me so fucking much! Since I’m the worst thing to ever happen to you!”

  I wanted him to do it. At least that way, I’d have a valid enough reason to leave and never come back.

  “You always have to have the last word, don’t you? You can never just shut your fucking mouth and listen. Maybe this will finally shut you up.” His fist hit my jaw with so much force that it sent me flying sideways.

  I’d basically asked for it, but I couldn’t even gather my wits around the enormity of the surprise I felt.

  I covered the side of my face with my hand. It never even crossed my mind to hit him back. I was too paralyzed by the realization of what he’d just done.

  And then he did it again. I thought he might have broken my jaw as blood dribbled out of my mouth and onto the floor.

  “Richard!” my mom screamed.

  I shook my head to regain focus, making sure he didn’t go after her next. I might have stood there and taken him hitting on me, but I’d kill him if he touched her.

  “This is all your fault,” he shouted at her. “If you could have actually kept the other one instead of killing it, maybe he would have been worth a damn! Instead, all you gave me was this.” He waved a disgusted hand in my direction. “You two deserve each other.” He stomped away and slammed the front door so hard that it bounced open and closed repeatedly before staying open, the sunlight streaming in.

  My mom ran to my side. “Mac, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” She started crying.

  “What was he talking about? What other one?” I asked, still clearly in shock.

  “I was pregnant when you were ten. I lost the baby. He’s never forgiven me,” she explained.

  I hadn’t known that.

  Why the hell hadn’t I ever known that?

  This family was filled with secrets, and we were so damn dysfunctional because of it.

  “I’m sorry that happened, Mom. I never knew.”

  She walked to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack before handing it to me. “We never told you.”

  I thought back to my childhood and remembered when things had started to change. Every ounce of happiness seemed to get sucked out of the house all at once, but I never knew why. Mom cried a lot. Dad started spending all of his time at the office. I guessed that was when it all happened.

  I held the ice pack to the side of my face and winced. “Has he ever done this to you?” I asked, and she shook her head rapidly.

  “No. Never,” she said.

  I believed her. DD had never even threatened to hit me before, which was why I was still so horrified by what had just occurred. And as much as it killed me, I had to go.

  “I can’t stay here, Mom.”

  “I know,” she said, her body shaking. “Hold on.” She put up a finger and disappeared upstairs before coming back with something in her hand. She shoved a wad of cash into my palm and closed my fingers around it. “You know he’ll cut off your card. I don’t want you left with nothing. It’s all I have right now.”

  Opening my palm, I looked at it, the stack of bills. There had to be at least five thousand dollars there. I could tell from the weight and the thickness. “Mom, I don’t need all this. Keep some. Keep half. More than half.”

  “No. It’s okay. I have more in a private account your father doesn’t know about. That’s just all the cash I have on hand,” she explained. “I want you to take it. And go. You need to be gone before he gets back.” She sounded downright terrified.

  “I can’t just leave you here.” I started to get nervous at the thought.

  Now that DD had crossed the line into physical violence, what was going to stop him from doing it again? To her?

  “You can, and you will.” She sounded so firm and strong. “Right now. Get your things, then take your car, and go. I’ll call you later. Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself.”

  I shook my head. I was unwilling to leave. “Come with me.”

  “It will only make things worse,” she explained, but it sounded like some sort of sick justification for staying.

  I tried to blink the tears away, but it only made them fall instead. I felt sick to my stomach, not knowing what the right answer was or what I should do. All I wanted was to get the hell away from this house and never look back, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of abandoning her.

  “Should I call the cops?”

  “No,” she answered so fast. “No cops.”

  I knew that calling them would only make DD even angrier and that she would pay for it, but doing nothing felt so wrong.

  “Mac, look at me,” she insisted, and I did as she’d asked. “Go get your things and pack up your car. Get on the road before he comes back. I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore.”

  That admission woke me up. “I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you,” I said as she followed me up to my room to help me pack my crap.

  “Listen to me.” She grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face her. “None of this is your fault. And nothing will happen to me. I need you to go. I need you to trust me.”

  Filling two duffel bags with everything I wanted and needed because I knew I was never coming back, I hustled downstairs and into the garage, where my car waited.

  “You’re sure?” I asked her one last time.

  She nodded her head. “I’m your mother. It’s my job to protect you. Let me do the one thing I’ve been failing at lately.”

  There would be no changing her mind. No convincing her to leave. She was stubborn but determined. And at least she hadn’t been drinking. I could tell that much. I gave her a massive hug before telling her I loved her. And then I got into my car and left her there, praying like hell she’d be okay.

  How was I going to get through this without completely falling apart?

  After I pulled out of the gates and drove far enough away from the house, I swerved to the side of the road, opened my door, and threw up a mixture of whatever was in my stomach and blood from my mouth.

  Giving Arizona one last glance in the rearview, I stepped on the gas and got on Interstate 10 toward Los Angeles. I was never coming back here.

  He’s Here

  Sunny

  When I opened up the front door that Christmas evening, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” I was so shocked to see Mac standing there. On my parents’ front porch. With a couple of duffel bags in his hands. “How’d you know my address?” I asked, my questions coming out in rapid fire before he had a chance to answer.

  Mac held up a red envelope and I immediately recognized the writing and the Jamison return address stamp in the upper left-hand corner. “My mom sent you a Christmas card? How did she get your address?” I narrowed my eyes to look at where she’d sent it. “She sent this to the baseball house?” I stopped myself from laughing because it was official, my mother was insane.

  “You know, I’ve been calling and texting you all day,” I said, my tone coming out more annoyed than I’d meant, but I had been worried.

  He never responded to a single text after the one he sent in the morning, and his phone kept going straight to voice mail. I’d had a bad feeling all afternoon.

  “My phone died. I forgot to charge it last night, and then I didn’t have a charger and figured it was better if I left it off. I’m sorry.” He looked at me, his eyes red and swollen, like he’d been crying.

  Is that a bruise on his jaw? Is his face swollen? It was hard to tell underneath the yellow porch light, but something wasn’t right.

  “Did you drive or fly here?” I asked because there was no BMW in the driveway or in front of the house, and I knew that was his car from home.

  “I drove. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Can I come inside?” he asked, looking completely worn out.

  “Sunny, who is it?” my mom yelled in the background, and I turned around to see her walking toward me, wiping her hands on an apron. She recognized Mac immediately, and her face broke out into a smile. “Oh, it’s that hottie-with-a-body boyfriend of yours.” They still hadn’t had the chance to meet in person.

  “Mom,” I said through my embarrassment, but Mac looked entertained.

  “Well, don’t leave him outside. Bring him in. Mac, come in, come in,” she said, moving me out of the way.

  MY MOM HAD PUSHED ME OUT OF THE WAY TO GET TO MY BOYFRIEND.

  And that was when all hell broke loose. The dogs. All eight of them rounded the corner at once and made a beeline toward the front door.

  “I’m sorry,” my sister screamed as she chased behind them in some lame attempt to corral them, but it was only making them run faster. They thought she was playing.

  “So, this is my family.” I pursed my lips as I stopped the dogs from getting out the front door as Mac made his way inside through the massive group of jumping and tail-wagging animals.

  “Oh yeah, he is hot. You were right, Mom,” my sister said, and my mouth dropped wide open.

  The fact that my older sister and my mother had discussed the level of my boyfriend’s hotness was beyond awkward.

  “Can you two please not?” I was so embarrassed, but Mac seemed okay with it all. Of course he was. He lived for this kind of stuff.

  “No, no. Don’t stop on Sunny’s account,” he said.

  I could tell he was trying to be his usual charming self, but something was definitely off.

  No one else would have noticed, but I knew him better. The smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The way his body language wasn’t as comfortable in his own skin as usual. He was tense and uneasy. Not to mention the fact that he was here, at my house, on Christmas night when he was supposed to be in Arizona for three more days.

  “Oh my. What happened to your face?” my mom asked, her tone worrisome, and I realized that I had been right.

  There was a bruise. And there was swelling.

  “Mac,” I said, already assuming the worst.

  He’d told me once before that his father never hit him, but I had an eerie feeling that was no longer the truth.

  “Car accident,” he said to my mom. “I hit the air bag.”

  It was a lie. One that could easily be bought and sold, but I could tell by the way he’d said it that it wasn’t true. He squeezed my hand, letting me know that he’d tell me what really happened later. In private. And I let it slide because this was his first time meeting my family, and if he was here on Christmas, things must have gotten really bad for him at home.

  “Those things seem so dangerous even though they apparently aren’t. But everyone I know gets banged up when they go off.”

  My mom got ahold of the dogs, and they seemed to calm down once we all walked back into the living room, where they each had their own bed and treats waiting. The fire was burning in the fireplace, the tree was lit but was bare underneath, and we had just been cleaning up the table from dinner.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked at the same time as my mom, who was still looking at Mac like he’d hung the dang moon, even with all the bruising.

  “Hey there. I wondered what all the commotion was.” My dad walked into the kitchen with a smile, holding a beer.

  The cruise my mom had insisted they go on had seemed to do wonders for him. He was more relaxed than I’d ever seen, willing to share his patients with the emergency hospital, like my mom had recommended, instead of taking them all on by himself. He was even sporting a tan. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen my dad tan in my entire life.

  “You must be Mac. Want some ice for that fight you clearly lost?” he teased.

  Mac offered a tense chuckle as he reached for my dad’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Hi, sir. That would be great actually. And maybe some Advil?” he asked, and it hit me that he was in pain. And he’d driven over five hours to get here.

  “Call me Mr. Jamison, please,” my dad said, and right when I was about to complain, he started laughing. “Just kidding. Call me Mark.”

  “Apparently, my family has turned into a bunch of comedians,” I said with a shrug, feeling like Mac had just walked into the Twilight Zone and he didn’t even realize it.

  “Can we fix you a plate?” my mom asked before waving her hand around. “Oh, I’m making you one anyway. Have you eaten? Doesn’t matter,” she kept talking, answering her own questions, as she started pulling everything out of the fridge that we’d just put in it.

  “I have to go over to Todd’s. His parents are waiting,” my sister announced as she held a bunch of presents in her arms for his family. Her boyfriend had stopped by in the morning to have breakfast with us, and now, it was my sister’s turn to go to his place for dessert. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. It was nice to meet you, Hot Mac.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned out loud. “For the love of everything holy and good. Stop calling my boyfriend hot.”

  “Bye, Hideous Mac,” she said instead, and I rolled my eyes. “Sorry you’re so ugly,” she said as she headed out the front door and it slammed behind her.

  “I had no idea your family was so funny,” Mac said with a smile before he winced and stopped.

  “Neither did I.”

  “Come sit,” my mom directed as she grabbed Mac by the shoulders and maneuvered him to the dining room table. “There’s some of everything,” she said, pointing at the multiple plates of food she had prepared. “But you don’t have to eat it all.”

  “Thank God you don’t have to eat it all,” I imitated as my mom walked out of the room and gave us a little bit of privacy.

  Before long, she reappeared, setting up one of the dog gates at the entrance to the room. “They won’t leave you alone if they know you’re in here with food.”

  “Thank you,” Mac said as he slowly cut at the turkey.

  “You don’t have to eat this, babe,” I said reassuringly.

  “I am hungry, but ...” he started to explain before putting the food in his mouth. Within seconds, he was spitting it out and holding the side of his face. “It hurts to chew,” he said, his eyes closing, my heart breaking.

  “Here.” I spun the plate around, so the mashed potatoes were facing him. “This is soft. I’ll go get you some more.” I whirled in my seat, but he put his hand on top of mine to stop me.

  “Just stay here with me,” he said, and I nodded, maneuvering my legs back under the table to stay put.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked because I had to know what had happened. My imagination was working overtime.

  His hazel eyes looked so drained of life. “I need to charge my phone. I have to call my mom,” he said before saying anything else, and I nodded, holding my hand out so he could put his phone in it.