Rivals?

Chapter 29

Mikayla's POV

I walk downstairs dressed in another one of Joey's football hoodies and ripped skinny jeans. My hair is down and curled, only wearing mascara and lipgloss.

"Morning," Joey says, his back to me as he is watching television.

"It's one o'clock in the afternoon," I smirk.

"Okay?" He asks, not caring and his voice proves it.

Before I can open my mouth he turns around and looks at me. "Take it off." He says, looking back at the television.

"Joey, please don't make me! I promise I won't mess it up." I plead walking over to the couch and folding my hands together and dropping to my knees.

"What the hell? Mickey, how would you feel if I went into your room and came out in one of your crop tops? Or leggings? Or your Jordans?" He eyes me up and down and chokes back a laugh while watching me plead with him again.

"Joey, please. Wear whatever you want of mine! I don't care! Please. It's comfortable and all the other hoodies are..." I pause and stand up slowly, still looking at him. 

He knows exactly what I am about to say and then he nods slowly. "Okay. Whatever." He sighs. 

"Aw, thank you!" I squeal, messing up his hair. He swats at my hands, and I chuckle and walk over to the kitchen where my mother sits on the island stool.

"Hey," I say quietly before opening the fridge to grab the milk. 

"Hey, sweetie!" Mom yells as she has just snapped out of a trance. I flinched a little, grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, and poured the milk. 

After I put the milk away, I grab my cup and sit on the stool next to my mom. I then sip the milk slowly, swinging my feet underneath me. After a moment of silence, I pull my phone out of my pocket and giggle as I read Abby and Haylee's good morning texts with silly emojis. I respond and then press on Tiktok. 

"So," Mom looks over at me but I am still scrolling on my phone. I hear her gulp and then sigh. "You're doing well in school." 

"Yes ma'am." I nod and place my phone down to be respectful. However, I can't help but feel this annoyance in my heart. Not at my mom. Just at how awkward it is to conversate with her. My own mother. 

"That's good," she nods and then goes back to sipping her coffee and reading a magazine. 

I sigh and then finish the milk, put the glass in the sink, and sit back down. I check the time.

One-thirty-three.

I sigh. I have no other plans other than meeting up with Daniel at five. It's a boring Saturday. 

I walk upstairs, plop down on my bed, and scroll through TikTok again. I can't help but think of Daniel again. Mom was sitting in the exact spot I helped him with the bullet wound. His eyes were filled with pain and sorrow. I remember it so clearly. He didn't cry, though. Not a single tear. 

I throw my phone down and roll over on my back to look at the ceiling. My whole body aches for something to do. Get my mind off of Dad and Daniel. Get my mind off of Chase. 

Chase didn't hurt me as much as Dad and Daniel did. Daniel didn't mean to hurt me, though. Daniel is forgivable. 

I chuckle again at my words. Past me would never say that. However, now, my heart feels lonely and is trying to grasp anything or anyone to keep its light glowing. It's died a lot. 

My eyes fill with tears and I let out a shaky sigh, remembering that night. Both of those two different nights. Dad, purposely trying to hurt my brother, ignoring or not seeing me break down on that wall. I saw Joey cry for the first time. 

Then, the night when Chase decided to act like he cared for me, telling me to get some fucking rest, just so he can screw another girl behind my back.

The warm tears roll down my cheeks and roll to my ears or directly onto my hair, sprawled out behind my head because I am lying down. My eyes feel so heavy. I don't know why. I slept in, right? 

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a soft knock on the door. 

"What?" I yell, sitting up slowly, my back popping satisfyingly. 

Joey walks in, his eyes red and watery. He isn't crying though.

"Shit, Joey. What's wrong?" I ask, immediately walking over to him, and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad's downstairs. Says he wants to talk to you. Don't worry, I'll be there beside you." Joey's eyes glimmer back at me as those painful words process in my mind.

"Damnit," I say, shoving past Joey and stomping downstairs. 

My mom is hiding behind the kitchen doorframe and my dad is standing outside. I notice the door is locked, obvious no one trusts him around here.

I unlock the door and open the door, stepping outside with Joey behind me.

"I said I wanted to talk to Mikayla, not you Joey." Dad spits out.

"Too bad," Joey chuckles dramatically and sways on his feet, looking annoyed. 

"Whatever," Dad's focus turns back on me, "I see the rumor is still going around the town." 

"Not a rumor." I roll my eyes.

"Yes, it is. I did everything for you two," he slurs. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot.

"Lies," I chuckle. "All damn lies." 

His fists clench at his sides. I smirk and look him back in the eye. 

"What is your deal, Mick?" He asks, looking hurt but then his eyes twitch in anger. 

"My deal is that you're a liar. A drunken, depressed, liar." I snap.

His face turns red. I think about chewing him out again. I want to punch him. For everything he's ever done to me and my brother. Especially my torn mother. 

Until I can do anything, Dad snaps. 

I'm on the ground. Blood dribbles out of my mouth. My vision blurs and I struggle to breathe as I see Joey start to strangle my dad and shake him violently. 

My mom shouts from the front door frame and tries to help me up frantically. I just stay there and let the blood drip onto the ground. 

My whole world just collapsed. I soon hear sirens and the blue and red lights reflect off my mom's pale face and my brother's red eyes. 

My biological father, who brought me into this world, has just tried to take me out.