Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father
ascending.
A jarring fall brought him out of his vision, and the nausea came back. Daddy had
tossed him onto the bed, and knowing he was going to vomit again, Angel rolled off
onto the floor. Drifting back over the evening, he was in the headmaster’s office with
Daddy clenching his fists against his knees every time Mr. Staynton suggested Glasgow
or Leeds. He was in the cubicle in the men’s washroom at Barcode with that old dude
ready to ream his ass while his cheek was pressed against the cold metal partition.
Blood spurted from the dude’s nose when Daddy punched him. The car ride. Daddy
thanking Jack for calling him. What a good friend Jack was.
Jumbled thoughts grabbed at him. With both hands, Angel started to hit his head
because the pictures that were filling it now were awful. He was back in the foster
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homes. He started crying. Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes and only then knew
he had rolled into his vomit. It was all over his hair.
“Are you awake?” Lying naked on the very edge of the bed looking down at him
was Daddy.
“Yeah.”
“You need to get in the shower. You’ve got vomit in your hair, and you’ve pissed
yourself.”
“Oh my God,” he moaned.
Standing, Daddy leaned down and hauled Angel to his feet. In the bathroom, he
got him out of his shirt and jeans. “What happened to my jacket? Did I lose it?”
“I took your jacket and boots off you when we got in. Can you stand on your
own?” Daddy’s voice was calm. Not sweet or loving or gentle, but he didn’t sound
angry, which was a relief. Angel was expecting to be punished for such stupidity.
“I think so.”
Breathing heavily from the exertion of standing, Angel waited while Daddy
turned on the shower. The more he came down from the drugs and booze, the more he
became aware of how he must look with vomit in his hair and his breath smelling foul.
A niggling desire to look in the mirror was overcome by a greater desire not to see what
Daddy was seeing right now.
What the hell had he done?
“Right, let’s have you.” With his hands under Angel’s armpits, Daddy directed
him into the shower and under the rushing, hot water. With a long sigh of relief, Angel
tipped his face up, allowing water to pour over it and into his mouth. He rinsed and
spit several times.
“Keep still, boy.” With a handful of shampoo, Daddy began to wash Angel’s hair.
The strong fingers massaging his scalp brought immense relief to the tight, sticky
feeling in his head, and the hot water washing away the shampoo helped to clear his
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mind. Daddy began to scrub Angel’s body with the soapy loofah. Angel didn’t open his
eyes but let Daddy take care of him.
Daddy’s big hand washing Angel’s backside felt very comforting until he shoved
two soapy fingers up Angel’s rectum, rubbing vigorously, twisting his fingers this way
and that. “Daddy, that hurts.” His voice sound much whinier than he intended.
“That’s too fucking bad. Did that bloke get his cock in there?”
So Daddy was angry. He was just suppressing it, which was worse because it
meant he was so mad that he was afraid of his own temper and what he might do. “I
don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“I’m taking you for an STD test. We’ll go to the health clinic tomorrow.” Daddy
turned off the water, and they stepped out onto the mat. With a big white towel, he
rubbed Angel’s body roughly, which actually made him feel really good, like he was
coming back to life.
Feeling refreshed from the shower, Angel walked to the sink to brush his teeth
and began to waver. His whole body shook. Daddy put a steadying arm around him.
“You need to start drinking water to get that shit out of your system.” He put
toothpaste on Angel’s brush and held him upright while Angel scrubbed his mouth.
Then Daddy passed him a capful of mouthwash that he swished around his mouth.
“There. Do I smell better, Daddy?”
“Yes. Now you can lie on the bed while I clean up your vomit.”
Yep, Daddy was really mad . “Do I have to go to school today?”
“Have you looked at the time?”
He hadn’t. Sitting on the side of the bed, he looked at the clock. “Shit! It’s five p.m.
I slept all day?”
“Slept?” Daddy got down on the floor with a plastic bag, a roll of paper towels,
and a bottle of pine cleaner. “You cried, rolled around, crawled on the
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