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JJ had just turned six.
It was a Saturday afternoon.
His mom, Rachel, was home, passed out on the couch, the TV murmuring to itself.
JJ was in his room, sitting cross-legged on the floor, lining up his army men and making quiet explosion sounds under his breath when Luke popped his head into the doorway.
“C’mon, kid. You gotta run a few errands with me.”
Then he disappeared.
JJ pushed himself up off the floor. “Where we goin’?” he called out.
No answer.
He grabbed his shoes and stepped into the hallway. “Where we goin’?” he asked again.
Luke was in his bedroom, yanking open drawers, tossing clothes aside, muttering and cursing under his breath like he was already running late.
“What’re you looking for?” JJ asked, standing in the doorway.
Without even turning around, Luke snapped, “Christ, JJ! Shut up.”
JJ felt the sting immediately. His eyes filled, but he blinked hard and swallowed it down. He didn’t want to cry.
Luke glanced over, caught the look on his face, and his voice shifted—quieter, tired.
“J… just go sit on the couch and wait for me. I’ll just be a sec.”
JJ nodded and padded into the living room.
Momma was sprawled out on the couch, unmoving, her hair tangled, one arm hanging off the side. For a second she looked… gone. But JJ watched closely until he saw her chest rise and fall.
Okay. She was breathing.
He sat on the edge of the couch beside her, shoes dangling, eyes fixed on that slow, steady motion—up, down—waiting.
JJ sat on the couch next to his momma for what felt like forever. The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that made time stretch. He swung his feet back and forth, bored out of his mind, wishing Dad would hurry up already. Mostly, he just wanted to know where they were going.
“Dad?” JJ called out from the couch.
“What?” His dad’s voice came back sharp, irritated.
“Nothin’,” JJ said quickly, shrinking into himself. After a pause, he added more quietly, “Where are we goin’?”
Luke finally appeared in the hallway. As he walked through, he kicked at a pile of garbage that had collected there—empty soda cans, crumpled fast-food bags, an ashtray tipped on its side with gray dust spilled across the carpet, something sticky clinging to an old paper towel. The house smelled stale, like old smoke and sour leftovers.
Luke didn’t answer JJ. Instead, he muttered under his breath, “Damn bitch better have this house clean when we get back.”
JJ slid off the couch and started putting his sneakers on. Luke opened the fridge, grabbed a soda, and cracked it open, the hiss loud in the quiet room.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice rough.
JJ followed him out the door, blinking at the brighter light outside. Once they were on the porch, JJ tried again.
“Where we goin’, Daddy?”
Luke opened JJ’s door. JJ climbed into the truck, the seat rough against the backs of his legs. Luke slammed the door shut, then walked around to his side and climbed in.
“Gotta take the truck to the shop,” Luke said finally. “Don’t got the time or the fucking parts to fix it myself. Then the store to get a few things.” He paused, jaw tight. “And you need to behave yourself while we’re gone, J, ’cause I’m not in the mood to deal with any of your shit. Got it?”
JJ nodded, staring straight ahead.
Luke pulled out of the drive.
After a few minutes of driving, JJ rested his forehead against the cool window, watching houses and trees blur past. Luke glanced over at him.
“You hungry?”
JJ turned toward his dad and nodded. “A little.”
Luke nodded once. “If you’re good, we might get McDonald’s while we’re out.”
JJ smiled to himself, his tummy rumbling at the thought. He pressed his lips together, determined not to mess that up.
The rest of the drive passed mostly in silence. The truck rattled and hummed, the radio low and crackly, neither Maybank saying much of anything at all.
When they pulled into the shop, Luke parked and got out. JJ hopped down too, the pavement warm under his sneakers, and hurried around the front of the truck to follow his dad inside.
The lobby smelled like oil and rubber and something burnt. The floor was stained and scuffed, and a boxy fan rattled in the corner, barely moving the heavy air. A few mismatched chairs lined the wall beneath faded posters about tire rotations and oil changes. The counter was cluttered with papers and pens tied to strings, a bell sitting crooked near the edge.
JJ’s eyes immediately landed on the machines by the wall—bright red and blue, their clear tops filled with gumballs and tiny plastic capsules. Rubber balls in one and one of them had temporary tattoos.
“Can I have money?” JJ asked quietly.
Luke glanced down and let out a short chuckle. “No.”
JJ’s shoulders sank. He watched a boy about his age twist the knob on the tattoo machine, his face lighting up as a strip of paper slid out. JJ’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or just that familiar ache of wanting something small and knowing better than to ask again.
So he didn’t.
He stayed close to his dad, hands at his sides, while Luke leaned on the counter talking to the receptionist lady. JJ stood there silently, eyes drifting back to the machines, then to the door, waiting—being good.
His six-year-old self tried hard to keep his mouth shut, but his eyes kept drifting back to the tattoo machine. He imagined picking one out, imagined how cool it would look, how jealous everyone at school would be on Monday if he rolled up his sleeve and showed it off. The thought buzzed in his chest, loud and tempting.
The receptionist smiled at Luke. “Be right back, sugar,” she said, disappearing through a door behind the counter.
JJ felt it then—an opening.
“Dad?” he asked softly.
Luke looked down at him, his face already hard. “What?”
JJ glanced at the machines, then back up at his dad.
Luke bent down just enough to grab JJ’s arm, his fingers tight. His voice dropped low, dangerous. “Don’t you dare ask me what you’re thinkin’. I’ll take you to the bathroom and wear your ass out.”
JJ’s stomach dropped.
Luke straightened like nothing had happened. “Go over there and sit in a chair.”
JJ didn’t hesitate. He slipped away from his dad’s side and hurried to one of the plastic chairs against the wall, putting as much space as he could between himself and Luke—and especially between himself and Luke’s hand. He sat still, hands folded in his lap, heart thumping, reminding himself to be good.
A little girl about JJ’s age slid off her chair and came closer, holding up a bright blue bouncy ball she’d gotten from one of the machines. She dropped it to the floor and laughed as it sprang back up into her hand.
JJ smiled. “Cool.”
He glanced over at his dad, who was now laughing and talking with two mechanics near the counter, hands moving as he told some story. Dad looked relaxed—different.
JJ stayed where he was, swinging his feet and quietly talking with the little girl and the little boy beside her, who JJ figured must be her brother. They talked about school and whose turn it was to bounce the ball next.
A few minutes later, Luke came back and sat down beside JJ. He leaned in and said quietly, “Truck’s being worked on now. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
An hour sounded like forever. JJ’s chest sank at the thought. But when he looked up, his dad was smiling now, almost cheerful, and that made JJ feel brave enough to talk.
“Daddy,” JJ said, pointing, “look at her bouncy ball. It’s blue.”
Luke glanced over at the girl and nodded. “I see.”
JJ hesitated, then said softly, “I wish I could have one.”
Before Luke could answer, an older woman nearby smiled and stepped in. “I don’t mind giving him a couple quarters,” she said kindly.
Luke shook his head politely. “No, but thank you. He doesn’t need any of that shit in our house.” Then he paused and added, “I need to piss. J, you wanna come with me?”
JJ shook his head quickly. “I don’t need to go.”
Luke stood up and walked off toward the bathroom.
The little girl’s mom leaned down. “Savannah,” she said gently, “why don’t you give him the ball, and I’ll let you get another one?”
Savannah nodded without hesitation and placed the blue ball in JJ’s hand.
JJ’s face lit up. He smiled ear to ear and quickly slipped the ball into his pocket, making sure it was hidden before Dad came back.
A few minutes later, Luke reappeared, already talking to the receptionist again.
JJ stayed very still, his hand curled protectively around the secret weight in his pocket.
JJ’s heart felt heavy as he watched the woman with her two kids. She bent down to them, brushed hair out of the little girl’s face, smiled when they talked. JJ wished—quietly—that he had that all the time. His momma could be loving when she was really there, when she was awake and smiling. But she wasn’t always.
Luke came back and sat down beside JJ, dropping into the chair and slinging an arm around his shoulders like everything was normal.
“Is the truck almost done?” JJ asked.
Luke shrugged. “Don’t know, kid. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
JJ looked down at his hands in his lap, then back up at his dad. “Can we call Momma?”
Luke looked at him. “What for?”
JJ shrugged. “Just… see if she’s okay. Tell her we’re almost gonna be home soon.”
Luke smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. We’ll see her soon enough.” Then, quieter, almost like a joke, he added, “She’s probably still right where we left her.”
JJ didn’t say anything after that.
A moment later, Luke’s phone rang. JJ’s head snapped up. “Is that Momma?”
Luke didn’t answer him. He pulled the phone out and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?”
JJ sat still, listening only to his dad’s side of the conversation.
“Yeah. We’re almost done here. I’ll be there in a few.”
A pause.
“How much?”
Another pause.
“Can you give me a front?”
JJ’s shoulders slumped. He knew then—it wasn’t Momma.
He looked down at his lap again, fingers curling tight, the blue bouncy ball pressing against his leg inside his pocket, small and quiet and his.
Luke hung up the phone and muttered something under his breath about someone being a cheap bastard. JJ hesitated, then found his voice.
“Who was that?”
Luke didn’t answer. He stood up and walked to the receptionist’s desk. “How much longer, sweetheart, d’ya know?”
The woman replied quietly, her voice too low for JJ to hear.
JJ slid off his chair and went to stand beside his dad, hoping to catch the answer. Luke looked down, set a hand on JJ’s shoulder, and said, “We’re almost outta here, kid.”
JJ’s face brightened at that. “Can we get McDonald’s? I was good.”
Luke nodded. “Later. We gotta make a few trips first.”
JJ thought for a second, then asked, “Can we get Momma food too?”
Luke’s phone rang again. He glanced at the screen and muttered, “Shit,” before answering.
“Is that Momma?” JJ asked.
No response.
“Go sit down,” Luke said, already walking toward the door. “I gotta go outside to take this call.”
JJ watched him disappear out front, then slowly returned to the plastic chairs and sat down, feet dangling.
A few minutes later, Luke came back inside, still on the phone. JJ stood up and went toward him.
Luke pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Didn’t I tell you to sit down?”
“Yes… I—I thought…” JJ stumbled over his words. “I thought the truck was ready or somethin’.”
Luke shook his head. “Get your ass over there and don’t get back up till I say.”
JJ hurried back to the chairs, his face hot, and sat beside the two kids again. He talked to them quietly, just enough to feel less alone.
Savannah tilted her head and said, “Your dad sounds mean.”
“Savannah,” her mom snapped gently, “say sorry.”
Savannah looked down. “Sorry.”
JJ shrugged. “It’s okay.”
A moment later, Luke came over. “’Kay, kid. The truck’s done. You ready?”
“Yeah!” JJ practically launched out of the chair.
They walked outside together. JJ climbed into the truck, and Luke started it up. The engine purred smoothly.
“Listen to her purr,” Luke said, smiling.
JJ smiled back.
“Can we get McDonald’s now?” JJ asked.
Luke let out a heavy breath. “Didn’t I already tell you? We’ll go later. We got other shit we need to do first.”
JJ leaned back against the seat. “Okay.”
He looked out the window as they pulled away, holding onto the word later like it was a promise.
As the truck rolled onto the road, Luke pulled his phone out and started dialing. JJ watched quietly, his small hands folded in his lap.
“I’m on the way. Is the shit ready?” Luke asked, his voice low, steady.
“Yeah, we need a gram, please,” came the reply.
“No, just me and the kid. Rachel’s passed out at home,” Luke said, glancing briefly at JJ in the passenger seat.
“I promise he won’t touch nothing,” he added, almost like he was reassuring himself as much as the person on the other end.
“Yeah, we’re gonna be in and out.”
“See ya in ten minutes,” Luke finished, then hung up.
JJ didn’t understand all the words, but he felt the tension in his dad’s voice and the way Luke’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
A few minutes later, Luke stopped at a red light and turned toward JJ.
“Listen, kid,” he said, his voice low. “We’re stopping at my buddy’s for just five minutes. You don’t touch or say nothing. Understand?”
JJ nodded.
“Promise me you’ll be good?”
JJ found his voice. “I promise.”
A car honked behind them as the light turned green. Luke didn’t flinch. He looked in the rearview mirror and muttered, “Dumb bitch, I’m going.”
Finally, they pulled up to a house, parking on the street. Luke got out, and JJ did the same. Luke came around to JJ’s side and nudged him up the driveway, then banged on the door.
Someone opened it. “Damn, Luke… you good?” the man asked.
“Yeah, just in a fucking hurry,” Luke said.
“Well, don’t gotta go around cop-knocking, shit,” the man replied.
Luke rolled his eyes and dropped onto the couch.
JJ stayed in the doorway, frozen, unsure where to go. He shoved his hands into his pockets and squeezed the blue rubber ball tight. He was scared.
Around him, Luke and three other men smoked, cursed, and talked loudly, their voices bouncing off the walls. JJ had never seen them before.
“Yeah, Rachel’s a dumb cunt. She stays high lately, leaving me to raise the kid most days,” Luke glanced over at JJ as he said it, and JJ looked down at his feet, wishing he could disappear.
A few minutes later, JJ heard his dad’s voice.
“Alright, I’ll send Rachel over in a few to pay you the rest of what we owe. I appreciate you, Marty.”
Luke stood up, and Marty replied, “I know you do. You always make it right eventually.”
Luke walked over to JJ, gently nudging him forward. Together, father and son made their way toward the door.
Outside, they walked down the driveway toward the truck.
“McDonald’s now?” JJ asked hopefully.
Luke shook his head. “Home Depot first.”
They climbed into the truck.
“Can I turn up the radio?” JJ asked as Luke started the engine.
“Turn it on low,” Luke replied. JJ nodded and obeyed, the soft music filling the cab.
Once they were parked at Home Depot, Luke pulled a small baggy of white powder from his pocket. JJ’s stomach twisted as he watched. His dad took a straw, leaned back in his seat, and snorted a line.
JJ didn’t understand exactly what it was, but he knew it wasn’t something for him. Knew it was something adults did.
After Luke finished, he opened the door and slammed it shut. JJ got out and closed his door behind him, small sneakers crunching on the parking lot gravel as he walked over to his dad.
“What are we getting in here? Tools and stuff?” JJ asked, tilting his head.
Luke glanced down at him and shrugged. “Yeah… some screws, a new drill bit, maybe a couple of light bulbs. Gotta fix a few things around the house.”
JJ nodded, satisfied with the answer. He followed his dad toward the sliding doors, clutching his blue bouncy ball tight, wondering how long this trip would take.
JJ followed Luke through the automatic sliding doors, the cold blast of air hitting him like a wall. Luke got a shopping cart. The store smelled of sawdust and paint, with a faint chemical tang that made JJ wrinkle his nose. He stayed close to his dad, eyes flicking to all the towering shelves stacked with power tools, buckets of screws, and long wooden boards. Everything seemed huge, and JJ felt small.
“Stay close, kid,” Luke muttered as they walked down an aisle. JJ nodded, holding the blue bouncy ball in his pocket like a talisman.
Luke grabbed a few things off the shelves—a bag of screws, a small box of drill bits, and a roll of tape—and tossed them into the cart. JJ tried to help, picking up a light bulb once, but his dad waved him off. “Don’t touch shit.”
JJ nodded again. He noticed people around them—men and women walking past with carts full of lumber and paint, some looking busy and serious.
As Luke examined a power drill, JJ’s eyes wandered to the checkout lines. He saw people chatting and laughing, families with kids, little boys and girls holding candy or toys, just like him. His chest tightened. He wished Momma could be here, wished dad could be a little nicer, wished things were easier.
Luke muttered under his breath as he picked up a few more items. JJ didn’t hear everything, but he could tell his dad was annoyed about something. JJ squeezed his ball again and stayed close, silently counting the minutes until they could leave.
They turned down another aisle filled with stacks of paint cans, rollers, and brushes. JJ’s eyes caught a row of shiny metal levels, all lined up neatly on the shelf. Curious, he reached out and ran his fingers over the smooth metal of one, marveling at how straight it felt.
“Hey! What did I tell you about touching shit?” Luke barked, smacking JJ’s hand away.
JJ jumped and let the level clatter back onto the shelf. He looked down at his feet, blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes.
He stayed close to Luke’s side, keeping his eyes on the cart as his dad muttered under his breath and grabbed a few more things. JJ silently counted the aisles they passed, telling himself each one brought them closer to the truck… and maybe, just maybe, McDonald’s.
“When are we gonna leave?” JJ asked, his voice quiet but hopeful.
Luke turned him sharply to the side. SMACK—SMACK—SMACK—right over his pants, smack in the middle of the busy aisle.
JJ’s eyes stung immediately. He felt the heat rushing to his face, turning his cheeks red and hot. The noise of the store seemed to fade around him, and all he could feel was the sting and the sudden lump in his throat.
“I don’t wanna hear another word out of you until we leave here. Understood?”
JJ nodded quickly, swallowing hard, too shocked to speak. His hands curled around the blue bouncy ball in his pocket, holding it like a tiny anchor while he waited for the moment to pass.
JJ stayed close to his dad, walking quietly behind the cart, his cheeks still burning and eyes stinging. He hugged the blue bouncy ball in his pocket like it was the only safe thing in the world. The towering shelves felt even bigger now, and every noise—the clatter of carts, the beep of scanners, footsteps echoing—made his stomach twist.
Luke muttered under his breath as he grabbed a few more items, moving quickly down the aisle. JJ didn’t try to help. He kept his hands in his pockets and his head down, pretending not to exist.
When they reached the checkout lanes, JJ shuffled behind his dad as he loaded the items onto the conveyor belt. People were talking and laughing around them, and JJ felt a pang of longing again—he wished Momma could be here, wished his dad could be a little softer, wished life could be easier, even just for a little while.
Finally, Luke finished paying and grabbed the cart. “Alright, kid, let’s go,” he said. JJ practically ran to the truck, climbing in quickly and shutting the door.
Luke started the engine, and the rumble under his seat made JJ feel a little safer, even if only a little. He stared out the window, counting the seconds until they could get home—or maybe even McDonald’s, if he was lucky.
“Are… Dad… are—are we gonna… go to McDonald’s?” JJ asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Luke pulled out of the parking lot and glanced over at him. “Do you think you deserve McDonald’s?”
JJ stared down at his lap, fingers twisting together, then nodded.
Luke shook his head. “You’ll be lucky if you eat anything tonight.”
JJ turned toward the window, the world outside blurring as a tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t make a sound.
“J… look at me.”
Slowly, JJ turned back. Luke took his eyes off the road for a second, just long enough to see his face.
“Wipe your face.”
JJ turned away again and rubbed at his cheeks with the backs of his hands, trying to erase any proof he’d been crying.
“You need to start behaving,” Luke said, his voice low and sharp, “before I spank you so hard you can’t sit for a week.”
Luke paused, then slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
The crack echoed through the cab.
JJ flinched hard.
“I mean it, J.”
JJ nodded quickly, staring straight ahead now, holding his breath, clutching the blue bouncy ball in his pocket like it was the only thing keeping him together as the truck carried them down the road.
JJ watched as they drove past McDonald’s. A sharp little ache tugged at his chest. Is Momma awake yet? he wondered, staring out the window at the golden arches.
The rest of the ride was quiet. Finally, they pulled into the driveway. JJ practically scrambled out of the truck, swinging the door shut behind him.
Dad carried all the bags in one hand, and JJ dashed into the house, surprised to see Momma awake. The kitchen smelled amazing—warm, sweet, like sugar and chocolate—and JJ’s stomach rumbled. Dishes were piled up on the counter, but the sink was filled with soapy water, and Momma was humming to herself as she worked.
“Momma!” JJ yelled.
“J!” Momma’s voice rang back, bright and warm. She bent down and scooped him into a hug. “Did you have fun with your daddy?”
Dad walked in behind them, hands full of bags. “Your ass is finally up,” he said casually.
Momma straightened, still holding JJ close.
“Don’t start, Luke,” she said softly.
“What’re you cooking?” Dad asked.
“Brownies,” Momma said, a smile tugging at her lips.
JJ’s face lit up immediately. “Brownies!”
Luke glanced at JJ and said, “Go to your room, J. Need to talk to your Momma.” He paused, adding, “In private.”
JJ’s stomach flipped with curiosity and a little nervous excitement as he nodded and ran toward his room, the smell of brownies following him down the hall.
JJ went to his room, closed the door, and pulled the blue bouncy ball from his pocket. He started bouncing it quietly against the floor, trying to block out the yelling from the kitchen. It was hard.
“Why the fuck did you get so fucked up you forgot you had to take care of the kid while I ran errands?!” Luke’s voice cut through the walls.
“God—are you serious right now? Like that’s never happened to you?! I always pick up when YOU’RE slacking, and you never hear me complaining!” Momma yelled back.
“Bullshit. All you ever do is complain!” Luke screamed.
JJ squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the ball tightly, whispering a small, silent prayer to God—or whoever might be listening—that the yelling would stop.
He opened his eyes and bounced the ball gently against the door, catching it over and over, the soft thump grounding him just enough to feel safe.
A few minutes later, Momma came in.
“You okay, baby?” she asked softly.
JJ nodded.
“You want a brownie? They’re almost done.”
JJ nodded again, a small smile tugging at his face.
“You need to take a bath tonight, okay, baby?”
JJ nodded once more. Momma left, closing the door behind her, and JJ hugged the ball close to his chest.
A few minutes later, he heard Momma yell from the living room, “Luke, what’re you gonna do?!”
“Shut up! JUSTIN! Get your ass in here!” Luke’s voice thundered.
JJ’s stomach dropped. He stood up, heart hammering, and slowly walked toward the living room.
Dad was sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand, while Momma stood a few feet away.
“Momma said you were sitting in your room… playing with a bouncy ball?” Luke asked.
JJ nodded, eyes wide.
“Go get me the ball.”
JJ’s legs felt heavy as he disappeared down the hallway, back into his room. He picked up the blue bouncy ball and carried it back to the living room, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
Dad held his hand out. JJ took a deep breath and slowly stepped closer, handing the ball over.
Luke examined it closely. “Is this the same ball that little girl had?”
JJ nodded.
“Did you steal it from her?”
JJ shook his head quickly, his stomach twisting.
SLAP.
Luke gave him a light slap across the mouth.
“Luke!” Momma’s voice rang out sharply, and she stepped forward, her eyes blazing.
JJ’s hand flew to his mouth, and his eyes filled with tears.
“Did you steal it from that little girl?” Luke demanded, his voice sharp and louder this time.
“No… n—no sir,” JJ stammered, still covering his mouth.
Luke grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. JJ could feel the heat of his dad’s body pressing in. He could smell Luke’s breath—stale, tangy, and sour, like old beer mixed with cigarettes—and it made JJ’s stomach twist.
“I’m not raising a little thief. You hear me?”
JJ nodded quickly, blinking hard to keep the tears from spilling over.
“I didn’t… I didn’t steal it…” JJ whispered again, voice trembling, hoping his dad would believe him this time.
Dad pulled him over his lap and started spanking him. Hard swats, one after the other, each one thudding against JJ’s small bottom.
“Please… I didn’t… didn’t steal it…” JJ sobbed, his voice breaking, clinging to his dad’s large legs.
Dad didn’t stop until about fifteen swats had landed, enough to make JJ cry hard, wracking sobs echoing through the living room.
Finally, Dad lifted him up. JJ clutched his bottom with both hands.
“The ball is going in the trash,” Dad said, voice low but firm. “I told you at the mechanic shop you didn’t need it, and I damn well meant it.”
JJ’s heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. He nodded, unable to speak, and glanced at Momma. She was standing nearby, silent, watching the entire thing, her hands folded, expression unreadable.
JJ’s bottom still stinging, he watched as his dad walked over and tossed the blue bouncy ball into the trash can. Then, without a word, he carried the trash can out back and emptied it into the big garbage can.
Momma came over and wrapped her arms around JJ as he cried, holding him close while he let the tears fall. The warmth of her hug was the only safe thing in the room.
Dad walked back in, empty-handed, and let out a sigh. “Quit babying him,” he muttered.
Momma shot him a sharp look. “I’m not babying him. But you don’t have to be so hard on him. He’s just six years old. You didn’t have to throw away that ball.”
Dad rolled his eyes, then looked down at JJ. “Wipe your face,” he said.
JJ wiped angrily at the tears, his hands shaking.
“Lose that attitude before I pull your pants down this time and give you round two,” Dad warned.
Momma stepped closer, her voice firmer this time. “Luke! You need to calm down.”
The oven timer went off, its ding slicing through the tension. Momma gently took JJ’s hand and led him toward the kitchen.
She grabbed the oven mitts and pulled the tray of brownies out of the oven, the warm chocolate smell filling the room.
“Why don’t we get you in the tub while these cool off?” she said softly.
JJ nodded, tears still quietly slipping down his cheeks. He followed Momma out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bathroom, feeling just a little safer in her presence.
After JJ’s bath, he sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on a warm brownie and sipping cold milk. The chocolate melted on his tongue, and for a moment, the day’s tension eased just a little.
Dad was passed out on the couch, snoring lightly, so Momma and JJ whispered, careful not to wake him. The house felt quieter than it had all day, and JJ let himself relax a little in the safety of Momma’s presence.
Later, Momma tucked him into bed. She smoothed the hair from his forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.
“I promise, J,” she whispered, her voice soft but certain, “one day… you and I will get out of here. We will find someone to treat us right, treat you the way you deserve, and… treat me the way I deserve.”
She paused, letting the words sink in. JJ felt a small, warm hope growing in his chest.
“You’re a good boy,” she said, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment before she quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
JJ laid in bed, the chocolate taste still lingering. He let the day’s tears fall quietly, but this time, there was a little comfort in them, too—a tiny spark that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.
———-
Momma did leave… two years later. She got out. Finally, she got free. But she left JJ behind… with a monster.
Now, JJ was sixteen. He’d survived. Somehow. And over the years, he’d found pieces of happiness, little pockets of life that made the world feel less heavy. He had three of the best friends anyone could ask for.
John B had been his best friend since third grade, right after Momma left. John B had been there when JJ felt like the world was crumbling, and somehow, just having him around made things bearable.
Pope came into his life two years later. They hit it off immediately, and JJ had never had another friend like him—loyal, hilarious, always ready to back JJ up.
And then there was Kiara. JJ had met her when they were eleven. She was bright, funny, and fearless in a way that made JJ both nervous and happy at the same time. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, not to anyone, but deep down… he had a huge crush on her.
Even with the chaos and scars of the past, JJ had found a little light in his life. Friends who got him. People who made him laugh. People who made sixteen-year-old JJ feel like maybe, just maybe, he could survive—and even be happy.
As for Dad… well, he was still around, but things had changed. Not for the better. Luke hadn’t exactly grown up or learned much from the years that passed. He still drank too much, still lost his temper too easily, and still made life tense for anyone in the house.
JJ had learned to keep his distance, to stay quiet, to pick his battles. He’d grown taller, stronger, smarter, and a little harder—shaped by every harsh word, every unfair slap, every moment of fear.
Dad wasn’t gone, but he wasn’t someone JJ relied on anymore. He was just… there. A reminder of everything JJ had survived, a shadow in the background while JJ built a life outside of it—with John B, Pope, Kiara, and the small pieces of happiness he had fought to find.
JJ didn’t hate him—not completely—but he had learned that surviving Luke meant learning to take care of himself first.