Happy Birthday . . . Susan? Part II

Max opted to sit on the other side of her mother, who now watched Neil as he continued to look at the empty seat beside him. The restaurant was fancy with low lighting and soft music. A place that normally made you feel relaxed and happy to be there, but Max could only focus on the nerves that slowly settled inside her as the night went on and Billy didn't show.

It was no secret that Neil had a loathing for disrespect. Talking back or not listening was top of the list, but being late? Damn near taboo. Which explained why Billy heckled her about being on time. She thought back to earlier after she'd put on her green dress and then waited until it was almost time for them to leave.

"Max, time to go." Her mother's voice echoed down the hall. It was finally time for her to act out her plan. To teach Billy that he couldn't control her, to watch as he was put in his place.

She slipped out into the hallway quietly and carefully pushed open the door to his bedroom. She curled her nose at the piles of clothes and cassettes littered on the floor. A stale scent of sweat in the air and she wanted to turn and leave as quickly as possible. But first, to follow through.

Her eyes caught on the Metal poster that was haphazardly hung above Billy's bed. At an odd angle, it stood out in stark contrast against the rest of the nearly bare walls. He hadn't even put in the effort to make sure it looked okay. The only posters that seemed pristine and straight were his Metallica poster and picture with a blond in a red bikini.

She glanced down at Billy's sleeping face as it was mushed into his pillow. His mouth hung open slightly as he snored. There was no furrow in his brow, no glare on his face. He seemed . . . peaceful. For once, he didn't have that conceited douchebag look to him that made you wonder if he'd choke a baby without remorse. She thought for a moment about whether or not she should change her mind, but then thought back to the torn scrapbook hidden under her bed.

Yeah, not a chance, she thought.

As carefully as possible, she turned back the time on his clock and watch on his nightstand by one hour. Then, as a bonus jab, she turned off his alarm. She backed out of the room slowly, counting herself lucky he didn't wake up. Somehow, the adrenaline kept her from slipping into a panic. With a soft click, she shut the door and made her way to the living room.

But she didn't stop there.

As Neil and her mother put on their coats, she was struck by a thought, one that would ensure Billy fell behind even if he managed to wake up before his alarm went off. It was the riskiest thing she'd considered doing and she chewed her lip for a moment before she glanced back at the hallway where their rooms were.

He deserves this, she told herself.

She quickly slipped into the kitchen and grabbed the small peeling knife and gave her mom a small smile as she appeared at the door ready to leave. She ignored the nerves she felt and as they made their way to the Chevette she stopped to fix her shoe, making sure she kneeled beside the backside of Billy's Camaro. As quickly as possible she pushed the knife into the base of the tire and winced as a small hiss of escaping air seemed to ricochet around her. She abandoned the blade and climbed into the car. It was done. Now to see how Billy's night crumbled around him.

Part of her reconsidered for a moment if she went too far. But no. She shook off the doubt. It was effective but harmless. He'd be a little late, but it would just rile Neil a little. A small scolding.

He'll think twice before ever punishing me again, she thought, smiling at her genius as they pulled out of the drive.

. . .

They'd been waiting for an hour, and Billy still hadn't shown up. Anxiety crept into Max's gut. She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes occasionally drifting toward the restaurant entrance hoping that Billy would show sooner rather than later.

This isn't what I had in mind . . .

Max glanced at Neil. He gripped his full water glass tight, his eyes glued to the doors. Her mom unfolded and refolded her napkin.

Feeling her stomach grumble, and to settle her nerves, Max reached for the breadbasket in the middle of the table.

"Don't fill up, Ok sweetie?" Susan said.

Max's hand stopped short. "But I'm hungry."

"Do as your mother tells you," Neil said firmly, not taking his eyes off the door.

Max lowered her hand and scrunched her nose, happy he couldn't see. She hated how Neil acted like she was his kid. She wanted so desperately to tell him, "You're not my dad." But she held her tongue.

Neil's tight smile was a mask as he tried to hide his anger. His fist clenched and unclenched on the table, the whites of his knuckles clear. His mustache made him look like an Army sergeant. Max thought it was fitting since he acted like one too. When Susan sipped her water again for the fifth time in fifteen minutes he glanced at her.

"Are you enjoying your birthday so far?" he asked. It was an attempt to make light conversation, but his attention went back to the entrance. His jaw clenched tight.

"Yes, thank you for the spa day," Susan said, her voice soft. Perhaps a poor attempt to soothe him. The tension at the table was thick.

He nodded, but his smile remained tight. "You look beautiful."

Susan blushed. "Thank you."

Max fought the urge to roll her eyes. She hated when her mother swooned at Neil's rare affection. She resisted then only because her mother really did have a glow about her. Her mother had gushed about how Neil had called her "a sleeping beauty" back when they met. He was a door guard at the bank she had worked at, which made it odd to see them together now. He had been a gentleman, favoring the old-fashioned way of courting someone. It was hard for Max to believe this was the same person who used cheesy pick-up lines and bought her mother flowers on the regular. Looks had to be deceiving because she would have never thought he was the type to flirt. Then again, Billy had to get it from somewhere.

And like Billy, he was just as abrasive, even two-faced. Controlling. He'd put on a face to get what he wanted. They were the exact definition of like father, like son.

And Max knew deep down that her mother didn't stand a chance. She had this knack for disappearing into the personality of every man she dated. A ghost of her former self. Max could hardly tell she was in the house sometimes.

Buzz kill. Billy's words about her mom still echoed in her head and she admitted to herself that she could be timid, and sometimes, no fun. But, she was her mom. That meant something. Hell, it meant everything.

Max was startled by the waiter as he approached the table again. He seemed uncomfortable by the irritation that radiated from Neil, and his voice was hesitant as he asked if they were ready to order.

How much time has passed? Max thought. Why can't we order already?

"We'll wait a bit longer," Neil said. His voice was short, and his gaze stayed fixated on the parking lot.

As the waiter scurried back off to other tables, Neil's face began to turn a shade of red, the vein in his forehead starting to turn. It looked as though he would blow his top.

"Honey, I'm sure he'll be here," Susan said.

Max squirmed in her seat uncomfortably and took a sip of water, trying to control the way her hand shook. Her stomach churned, and she tried to tell herself it was from hunger and not guilt at what she had done to Billy. It was a mild, simple payback. She wanted him to hurt like she did as she watched those pieces of her scrapbook flutter to the floor.

But that queasy feeling stubbornly stirred in her gut.

Have I made a mistake?

She had just wanted to make him a little late, like five minutes. Originally. Enough to earn him a scathing look from Neil, perhaps a scolding. But it had to be going on 8 o'clock now . . . really, she had just wanted to delay him from getting those damn tickets he wanted so badly. To take something from him, like he did her. The fact that Neil had wanted a family dinner to switch things up had presented what she had thought was a perfect opportunity to get even, but perhaps it only increased the importance Neil placed on punctuality.

"It's nice that we could eat out and celebrate together," Susan said, yet another attempt to soothe Neil's impending anger.

"Supposed to," he grumbled in response.

Max swallowed and shifted her gaze down. Why was her perfect plan no longer all that perfect? She spared another look at Neil, at the way he radiated rage, and she gulped. Crap. I didn't plan for this.

Max leaned toward her mother and whispered, "Mom, I have to tell you something…about Billy."

"What about Billy?"

"W-Well . . . He's . . . here . . ."

Max's voice trailed off as she noticed Billy had burst through the door and was almost frantic as he looked for their table.

As he spotted them, he took a deep breath as though to prepare himself and approached with his head down.

Neil's face was almost sour, puckered even as he looked at Billy from head to toe before he muttered, "You're late."

Billy shifted on his feet and winced. "I had some . . . car trouble."

The silence was deafening.

After a moment, Billy slowly slid into the seat next to Neil, who never took his eyes off him.

"Don't you have something to say to Susan?" Neil said.

Billy frowned and looked almost unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was he looking for an apology? A compliment?

"Happy Birthday . . . Susan?" he opted.

Susan opened her mouth to say something but was quickly interrupted.

"Why are you late?" Neil said. His voice was calm. Too calm.

"I told you. Car trouble."

"Which is?" The irritation came back, but only slightly.

"I had a flat tire."

"Now did this . . . flat tire . . . Did it happen before, or after you got the cake?"

Max shifted her gaze between the two before staring back at the table. It was clear Neil didn't believe him. He stared at Billy as though he was under a microscope, and Billy seemed to twitch under the pressure of his gaze.

He swallowed and bit his tongue. There was a certain waver in his eye that seemed to grab Neil's attention.

"Did you pick up the cake?" Neil asked.

Silence.

"Billy. Did you pick up the cake?"

Billy shook his head lightly. Barely even a movement at all. "No."

Neil gave a slow exhale, and Billy felt the chills crawl up his back. He could tell his dad was holding in his anger. He strained with the resistance to lash out, and Billy knew that didn't bode well for him.

"Why not?"

"They were close by the time I got there."

"Closed? What time did you leave?"

Fuck this isn't going well at all, Billy thought. "Well, I thought I left around 5:30, but the worker—"

Neil let out a dry, rough laugh. It mocked Billy, and he held back his own scowl. "You thought?"

Billy sat down and sunk into the seat as if it could put distance between him and his dad. His watch had said 5:30 . . . he'd made it there right before 6 . . . he really had believed he was on time . . . But then with the tire . . . and then the watch . . . it had pointed to Max. He spared her a glance, brief and quick.

"I must have gotten the time mixed up somehow." His dad wouldn't believe him anyway if he'd tried to say it was Max.

"Oh, time troubles now? Any other excuses you wanna run by me?"

Billy looked at Max, his lips pursed. Just say something. You've damn well done enough, he thought to himself.

Max knew Billy wasn't going to tell the full truth. That she'd done those things to make him this late. She could tell by the way he looked at her now that he wanted her to own up to it. Neil would only see it as another excuse if it came out of Billy's mouth. Yet, she couldn't make her mouth open to speak the words.

"Neil, it's okay," Susan said. "We can just order dessert here."

He ignored her comment—didn't even acknowledge her. It was clear he wouldn't hear anything else about it. Billy stared down at his hands, and Neil continued to scrutinize him as though he could read the lies on Billy's face. It was only when the waiter made his way back that Neil looked away. They mumbled their orders, but when the waiter turned to Billy, Neil raised a hand with a shake of his head.

"No. He doesn't want anything. Isn't that right, Billy?" Neil asked.

"Y-Yeah."

The tension was thick enough that Billy felt the sweat as it started to bead on the back of his neck. He remained still as he stared down at his hands while the rest of them ate in empty silence. The only sounds that filled the air were the clacks of their forks and knives as they scraped against the plates. Each one seemed to crawl up Billy's back, and he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. To escape the wrath he was sure waited for him. No one spoke. He knew this wasn't the dinner his father had imagined when he made the plans. Now he believed that Billy was responsible for making this night turn sour.

Billy swallowed. He just might throw up.

Dinner ended and the tension didn't ease, but seemed to grow thicker. The air around them was almost hard to breathe, and the moment Neil finished paying the bill, they all seemed in a hurry to leave the restaurant behind. Billy sucked in the cool, night air as he made his way to his car, but Neil's voice cut through the air and stopped him in his tracks.

"No, you're riding with us."

Billy blinked in shock and glanced at his car. "Dad, I can't leave my car here. What if I get towed?"

Neil's face was blank as he stepped toward Billy. He held his hand out. "Give me your keys."

Billy's face was aghast. No. No, he can't take this from me. Not this. How will I go to the concert? All I want is to go to the concert.

"But—"

"Keys. NOW," he barked, and Billy flinched. He hesitated, then fumbled to tug his keys from his pocket and, with shaking hands, dumped them onto Neil's waiting palm.

"Get in the car," he ordered before he turned to do the same. The command seemed to trigger everyone into listening. Billy sighed, stomped over, and yanked open the back door. He slid in next to Max, not bothering to shove the buckle across his chest.

Why is this my fucking life? Billy thought as he slumped in his seat.

Neil sped off down the road, and it was silent for a moment before he grumbled, "Can't even have a peaceful night out.

"It was just a cake," Billy mumbled under his breath.

"You were over an hour late. What were you doing when we left, huh? Care to explain that?"

Max glanced at Billy. She knew he wouldn't tell Neil he was taking a nap. The truth would be worse than the lie. Billy seemed to know that. He didn't want to risk bringing up the concert with Neil being this mad. He latched onto the idea that he'd still be able to go.

"I don't know. Maybe I lost track of time or missed my alarm going off."

"Enough with the excuses! First, you got a flat tire, then you lost track of time, and now your alarm didn't go off? What did you need an alarm for anyway?"

Shit, Billy thought. I slipped.

He paused a moment to think. Neil would be more pissed if he knew Billy had been sleeping. His dad hadn't been keen on him camping out for those tickets in the first place. If he thought it was the reason he was late, he'd likely forbid him from going. Billy couldn't let that happen.

He opened his mouth to come up with another excuse, but Neil didn't wait for an answer.

"You've been real shitty all day. Throwing that little tantrum and pissing me off. Your attitude sucks and I'm sick of it!"

Wouldn't have an attitude if I wasn't having to watch over my stupid stepsister every moment of every damn day.

"And I haven't even heard an apology."

"That's because it's not—!" Billy stopped and he stuttered. He was about to say it wasn't his fault. He would have been forced to bring up Max, and at this point, it would have made things worse. Not to mention his dad wouldn't believe him. He never did when it came to Max.

"What? It's not what? Finish that sentence!"

"It was a stupid mistake, alright?"

Neil scoffed and shook his head. His lip curled in the mirror as he stared Billy down and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"We moved down here to do something different. To make a change and be more of a family. Are you trying to get back at me? Because I told you to go to that damn ticket sale later?"

All that dancing around, just for him to mention the tickets anyway, Billy thought.

"I wasn't trying to get back at you," Billy mumbled. He refused to look up from his lap, but there was an edge to his voice. "I was just late. It's not like I'm the one that caused a fucking scene!" The implication was there. He placed the blame on his dad for the dinner being tense. He always has to make everything into a big deal, Billy thought.

The car swerved as Neil turned in his seat and pointed a finger at Billy. "You watch your fucking tone with me!"

"Neil!" Susan yelped as she reached across to straighten the wheel, getting them back into the correct lane. Max felt her heart thudding in her chest as the chaotic situation continued to escalate. She hadn't predicted this to be the outcome. Neil practically looked like he was about to come unhinged, and Billy seethed in the seat beside her. She knew Billy fought the urge to say it was her fault. He'd already almost slipped up and said it once. Would Neil believe her if she came forward and confessed to slashing Billy's tire and changing the time on his watch? Would that anger turn on her?

"I'm sorry I was late, OK?! I'll pay for a new cake!" Billy yelled. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you'll be sorry. Just wait until we get home."

Billy gasped, and his eyes went wide. He stumbled over the words and shook his head in disbelief because there was no mistaking what that meant. "Dad, it was just a mistake!"

"You've been making a lot of mistakes lately!" he barked. "It's like you have no sense! Getting pissy, talking back like you have no damn respect!"

Billy's face scrunched with unreleased anger, and he threw himself back against the seat. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw shut. Max thought of how it looked like a child pouting when they didn't get their way.

"No good . . . punk attitude . . . you must get it from your bitch of a mother," Neil grumbled.

Max watched in horror as Billy's eyes widened in shock and the vein in his neck pop out.

"Screw you."

She held back the gasp that worked its way into her throat. Definitely not part of her plan. The words were so soft, and she hoped that they would be lost in the cackle of the car, but as she glanced up at Neil, she could tell, mostly by the sinking of her stomach, but also by the look of shock on his face that Neil had heard him. Oh, no.

Neil whipped the car to the right so abruptly, everyone inside shifted all at once. He pulled to the side of the empty road, no house or person in sight, just the woods that loomed next to them. He put the car in park and threw open his door, went to Billy's side and yanked open his door.

"You must be out of your fucking mind talking to me like that! Get over here!"

Max felt a wave of cold chills wash over her as Billy hesitated, causing Neil to reach in and jerk Billy out by the arm. The car shook as he was shoved into it, and the sound of two hard slaps echoed loudly in her ears. He hit him. Crap, this keeps getting worse . . .

"I want an apology . . . I'll be damned if my son speaks to me like that." Neil was slightly shorter than Billy, but it was apparent that his scolding kept Billy in place. Billy mumbled something, but Max couldn't make out what it was.

"Speak up!"Neil roared.

Billy scrunched his lips. "Sorry," he spat. "But you're freaking out over a stupid cake when you could have gotten it yourself and left me alone to get my tickets." He froze. He knew his mistake as soon as it slipped from his lips.

Neil took a step back and shook his head. "So that's what this is about? . . . This all started because of that stupid damn concert," Neil growled. He threw Billy's arm from his grip, stomped around the car, and popped the trunk. Max jolted at the sound of Neil digging around and the slam of the trunk made Billy jump as well. Neil came back around and in his arms was Billy's radio. Max's heart sunk into her stomach, and the guilt she had felt before began to creep back in. This was going further than she'd wanted it to. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"So, it's stupid crap like this that's making you disobedient and disrespectful? Making you forget how to act right?"

Neil raised the radio above his head and smashed it down on the ground. With a crack that had Billy letting out a noise of outrage, he lurched forward as though to break the fall of the radio. Neil shoved him back into the car, and Billy yelled, "I've never asked for anything! Just one thing I wanted to do, but you just want me to be miserable like you!"

There was a brief pause. Neil didn't move, just stared at Billy. "Yeah," he said, nodding at his son. "Another lesson is in order."

Billy's heart twisted. He wanted to back up further, but there was nowhere to go. "You don't need to do that." But he could tell his dad wasn't going to change his mind. "On the side of the road? People might see!" he tried to reason. It was a sad attempt, playing on Neil's desire to look the part, to care how other people perceived them. It didn't work.

"Neil, it's okay," Susan called from the front seat, her face crumpled with worry and apprehension.

"No! No, it's not okay," he yelled. "I will not have him disrespect you, and I sure as hell won't let him disrespect me. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences no matter where he is."

Max watched as the blood drained from Billy's face as he seemed to come to terms with what was about to happen. There was true terror that washed over him, and he shook slightly. Neil had become barbaric with the way he exuded dominance over his son. It was no surprise that Billy would be afraid of him. Did she never notice? No . . . she had . . . she just didn't pay much attention she supposed.

Blinded by my own anger. What have I done?

Billy gave Max the briefest glance, his eyes pleading with her. As though he was saying, Tell the truth. Tell him it was your fault. That it was a harmless joke. But she didn't, she couldn't. Locked down by her own fear of Neil's anger. She remembered Billy's words, ". . . just because he hasn't punched you in the face yet." She willed the words to come, to make this stop. But they didn't . . . they wouldn't.

"Neil, please just get in the car! It's just cake!" Susan cried out, her voice pleading as much as Billy's had.

Neil called back, never taking his eyes off Billy. "And tomorrow it will be just a failed class, and the next skipping school or driving drunk. Coming home whenever he wants. Thinking he can do whatever and get away with it. Like hell I'll let that happen. Now, get your ass over that hood."

Billy shook as he watched his dad pull his belt from the loops in one swoop. He considered running, or maybe fighting back, but what good would that do? Where would he go? His feet were glued to the ground by his terror at what was coming. His dad had always said that running was for chickens. I won't be a chicken . . . I won't run.

Billy waited a second too late because Neil grabbed him by the back of the neck, turned him around, and slammed his body over the hood.

Neil whispered in his hair, "You stay right there."

It sent chills up his spine and he clenched his fists as though it would help him stop the way he trembled.

"Keep your hands in place," Neil ordered.

Billy stared down at the back of the car as he flattened out his palms over the cold exterior. He willed himself not to move, cry or beg. To not show his father any weakness that would make this worse.

Neil flipped up Billy's jacket, and before he could even register, the first stroke hit him, and he jolted. Each hit after caused him to wince as his dad set a steady pace, which meant Neil was planning to make this a long session. Billy locked his eyes onto the car and gritted his teeth. Don't move, don't make a sound, don't cry. He hates when you cry.

Smack!

Billy winced. He could already feel the heat radiating off his pants, and it somehow seemed to burn more as Neil spoke.

"You've never talked back this much to me. But you've been really testing the waters ever since we moved here. You forget respect. Now I see I've been too lenient."

Each smack sounded in the air, and with each one, Susan and Max winced. The hits were bludgeoned like Neil was giving it his all, determined to make Billy scream. But he didn't. He remained laser focused. He fought that urge to scream. The way his neck was strained and the way he bit down on his lip was proof.

Is it because we're here? she thought. She counted as the hits continued to be the only sound in the air, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen . . . seventeen . . . twenty . . . twenty-five . . .

At some point, she lost count.

He must want him to cry, she thought. He's not stopping.

Thwack!

Billy's body twitched blow after blow, but he didn't make a sound. He refused.

Max watched as Neil stopped with a growl, and she knew it was because Billy had stayed silent. He hadn't given Neil the reaction he wanted.

"I don't think I'm getting through to you."

Billy huffed out a breath and tried to ignore the stinging of his backside. He knew it wasn't over yet, that his dad was just getting started.

"Take off your jacket."

He sniffed and slowly raised to let the leather slide down his arms. He tossed it over the trunk of the car and went to lean back down when his dad spoke again.

"Pull your pants down."

Billy turned and looked. Neil still gripped the belt as he waited for Billy to do as he was told.

He swallowed roughly and slowly unbuckled his belt, sparing another glance at Neil. Unmoved, he gave a sharp nod of his head for Billy to continue. Billy pushed them down to his ankles and sucked in a breath of air when Neil spoke again.

"Those too." He indicated with the belt at Billy's underwear.

Billy felt the heat of embarrassment flush his face and he shook his head, "Dad—"

"Now!"

Billy shook his head again and felt the sting of tears as they filled his eyes. Neil grabbed him roughly by the arm and shoved him back, jerking his underwear down so roughly, he could hear a slight tear. Billy had no time to prepare as the belt cracked against his bare skin. He slipped and fell onto the trunk as he scrambled to brace himself for the blows as they continued in quick succession. The pain was heightened, and it took all his willpower to stay silent and maintain a tough gaze.

The sound was louder now that Neil made him pull his pants down. The crack of the leather ricocheted into the trees, the noise of it filling the car so completely that Max wanted to plug her ears and pretend it wasn't happening anymore. How has he not cried out yet? she thought. It had to be painful, and she could tell Billy was growing angry. She could see it in his wrinkled brows, but they were turned down by a mix of anger and sadness, as well as pain. A face that wanted to express fury but was plagued with pain instead as it took over his body.

The belting quickened, Neil swinging like he was determined to beat the disrespect and disobedience out of him.

"What did we talk about?" Neil asked.

Billy took a deep, shuddering breath. "Respect . . . and responsibility," he said through tight lips.

Slap.

"Was it respectful to be late?"

"No, sir."

Slap.

"Was it responsible for you to leave late and fail to pick up that cake?"

"No, sir."

SMACK.

The thunderous crack of the belt made Billy jolt. Each one took the wind out of him. He tried to catch his breath again and again, only to have it knocked out once more. The hits only got harder, and he wanted more than anything for his dad to get tired finally. His words ghosted into his head as though he whispered them, "Don't be a pussy, take it like a man."

He hated when he cried and yet it was like he wanted Billy to do just that this time. But he refused to give him that satisfaction. He always got what he wanted from Billy, time and time again. You're going to have to work for it.

The next slap landed on the backs of his thighs, and he jolted and turned to look at his dad, "No!" he snapped, letting that rage bubble to the surface. Fuck.

Max startled at Billy's outcry; the first noise he'd made since the punishment began. She snuck a glance toward the two of them, and Neil stared at Billy as though he was some kind of alien. He seemed to decide something because he tossed the belt down and shucked off his coat, tossing it over Billy's head. When it landed, Billy began to tremble more, and he stared at the jacket like it would lash out at him too.

"Obviously you need an attitude adjustment," Neil said. He circled the car to where Billy's broken radio lay in the road. He grabbed the cord and held his foot against it. With a quick yank, he dislodged the cord.

Billy peered over his shoulder at Neil. The way his expression shifted to trepidation tightened Max's throat. He frantically shook his head, "Wait, wait. I'm sorry."

"No more sorries. This attitude ends tonight."

Max couldn't drag her eyes away as she watched in horror as Neil wrapped the cord once, twice around his fist. Time slowed as he brought that fist back and let the cord swing. It whistled as it whipped through the air and landed with a sharp snap against Billy's backside. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and his back arched with his body's protest.

She shook her head. This isn't what I wanted . . .

Max hadn't predicted that this could have been a possible outcome. That Neil would actually pull over to the side of the road and beat Billy in front of them, and with a power cord no less. Maybe that was her mistake all along, trying to predict what these two would do. Billy was always erratic, but now it was clear that even Neil could be unpredictable. He didn't seem like he was anywhere close to stopping. How much more could Billy take? How much of this would anyone be able to take?

Another whistle and whip sounded. The cord seemed to wrap around Billy's ass and thighs every time it stuck its landing. He'd only been hit with it three times so far, but he knew there would only be so much he could take. When the next hit landed at the bottom of his cheeks, he fought to hold in the groan of pain.

"Dad, Ah, it stings . . ." He hated that hint of a plea, hated how it would sound to his dad.

Neil didn't stop. Hell, it didn't even seem like he was winded at all. Two more blows in quick succession had Billy squirm, banging on the trunk of the car in protest.

"Watch it," Neil barked, lashing out harder.

Billy sprung up from the car, his body telling him it was enough. It was a reflex that he was powerless to stop, but it only spurred his dad further.

"YOU STAY DOWN," he yelled, so close to Billy's ears that he flinched and pressed his forehead into the metal as if he could disappear into it.

He shifted to keep his legs steady because his knees threatened to buckle. His obvious struggle went ignored and the cord lashed out, almost whacking Billy by the balls. He lurched forward. A grunt finally climbed out of his throat like he was being strangled. He stomped in anger.

It hurts. Fuck, it hurts.

"Not so tough now, huh?" Neil stomped behind him, his voice shaking with pent-up anger. This punishment wasn't over. He was in a zone, and it was like no one else was there. Like Max and Susan weren't trapped in their own ways by being forced to witness Billy's humiliation.

And Neil's eyes . . . Max shuddered at the sight of them. It was like he looked right through Billy. Like he didn't see his son as a person anymore.

"Maybe I should have cut a switch instead," Neil growled, fisting the back of Billy's shirt to hold him in place when he started to pull away. He continued his swings but seemed to hit harder. Billy was at war with himself as he raised and lowered his arm again and again as he resisted the urge to cover his skin from the onslaught of his dad's attacks. He didn't tire but had a sharp focus on the exact spot he landed the cord each time.

Neil lectured as Billy squirmed, his body twisting and turning away from the blows. He couldn't focus on his dad's words, too focused on the pain. So, he just robotically responded. But soon, even that became impossible.

"Yes, siiiir! . . . gruuuuh, yes siiir! Gaaahhhh!" Billy's voice was incoherent.

"Stay. Still." Neil demanded. And Billy stilled his body as best he could, gluing his hips to the car.

Neil switched to his other hand, and one would have thought it was dominant in strength. The thwip of the cord as it landed against Billy had Max clenching her eyes shut. How long is this going to last?

Billy shook his head. "Wait, Dad. I . . . I can't . . ."

"Can't what? Can't take anymore? Like I couldn't take any more of your lip?"

Thwack!

"You think that was fair to me?"

"No—"

"You think it was fair to Susan?"

Thwack!

"No!"

"No, what!?"

Thwack!

"No, sir!"

Without meaning to, Billy let his hand slip back to block the blows. Fuck. No, no, no. A sign of weakness. He's really going to let me have it now.

Neil didn't stop the swing. Just went through, whipping through Billy's hand. Billy snatched it back, balling it into a fist. Whether it was an accident or not, Neil continued the lashes without missing a beat.

"Keep your hands on the car or so help me I will start from the beginning!"

Billy didn't want to test that threat. And even though he wanted nothing more than to protect his hide from any more blows, he couldn't risk his dad starting over. He already wanted to melt into the ground. Disappear so he wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye ever again. Especially not Max.

"Neil, please. Don't you think that's enough?" Susan's voice cut through the air and Billy's heart slammed in his chest. It won't ever be enough for him.

Max stared in awe, surprised her mom even said anything this far in. If this were at home, she would have quietly dismissed herself to another room. But when she turned to look back at Neil, Max wish she hadn't said anything.

Neil stared at Susan, silencing her with that same look that always stopped Billy in his tracks—a look that said he'd break through the window and choke the life out of her. She didn't say anything else. Neil began again, and Billy bucked, his legs parallel to the ground as he threw himself further over the hood. Neil grabbed his leg and yanked him back, pressing the side of Billy's hip to his own, so he couldn't escape the blows.

Billy grabbed a fistful of his hair, scrunching his eyes. "Shit . . ." he groaned, trying to hold back tears. It felt as though the cord was cutting his skin. "Dad! Fuck!" He balled up his fists and pressed them to his head, scrunching his eyes shut from the unbearable pain. The sting of the cable was unmanageable. He couldn't hold in his screams anymore.

"DAD, STOP! FUCK!"

"You don't tell me when to stop. This ends when I say it does!"

Billy's voice shook, a low whine as he pleaded, "It was a mistake! Just a stupid mistake!"

"Was making ridiculous excuses a mistake? Was telling me to screw myself a mistake? No, you're going to learn that these mistakes of yours have consequences. You're going to learn to take responsibility because you've obviously forgotten how to do that."

Neil went straight for Billy's thighs and the already tender sit spot. The lashes sliced through the air and decimated his skin.

Max watched in abject horror as Billy began to unravel. The veins in his throat bulged, his face devoid of all color as he gasped for air. His screams quickly turned into strangled sobs and outcries. It could be felt as he bucked into the car on every hit that made contact, rocking the whole vehicle with Susan and Max still inside.

Max knew her mother refused to watch, pressing herself into the front seat as far as she could go. It was clear she didn't like this side of Neil but was as powerless as the rest of them to stop it.

The dam behind Billy's eyes seemed to burst, and he pressed his palms tightly against them in a last-minute attempt to keep the tears away. His cries fell on deaf ears, but he couldn't stop.

"Oh, fuuuuuck," he choked on his words as they came out as a gurgled sob. He tried to ignore the cars that slowed as they passed. Strangers probably wondered what was happening, but not enough to intervene. But even as they cruised by, his dad didn't stop. There were no breaks besides Neil switching the cord from one hand to the next. Billy's legs shook with such ferocity, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stay standing for much longer. With every hit, he felt himself crumble.

"Ah, shit . . ." He tried to turn away, to move even if just for a moment to gain strength back in his legs, but it worked against him. With a shout, he slipped from the car and landed hard on his knees. The pavement was sure to scrape away the skin, but it was no match for the burn of humiliation that was being branded onto him. Not only with the lashing itself, but the knowledge that Max had watched the entire thing unfold. She'd heard him beg . . . seen him cry . . . and that was almost more painful than the beating.

He'd failed his mantra. Don't move. Don't make a sound. Don't cry. Neil picked him up by the back of the shirt and slammed him back down onto the car, knocking the air from his lungs.

No . . . no more.

"Please stop . . . please . . ." he begged. To beg was to show weakness. Begging was worse than crying. Worse than wanting to run away. But the words left his mouth anyway.

"Stop your fucking whining," Neil said. "I'd better not see you move again, got it?"

Billy nodded vehemently, unable to speak for fear of begging again.

"What did we talk about?"

"Dad . . ." he whimpered.

Neil threw down another blow, and Billy yelped.

"I said, what did we talk about?"

"Respect and responsibility," Billy struggled to get the words out as he still tried to catch his breath. The constant throbbing of his ass and legs made it hard to think of anything other than the pain. He wondered if he was bleeding yet.

"Do you think your behavior has been respectful lately?"

"N-No."

"Do you think it was respectful being an hour late or telling me to screw myself?"

"No–"

"Do you think it was responsible to not pick up that cake?"

"No—" Thwack! "AH!"

"No what, goddamnit?!"

"No sir!"

Max felt the tears spill over and run down her face as she watched Billy give into the pain. He slumped onto the hood, all fight leaving his body. Seeing him succumb to his screams was nothing like what she'd heard before when he had a bed to muffle the sound. Here it grated against her like angry claws. She pressed her hand to her mouth to hold in her own cries.

She wanted it to stop. She just wanted it all to stop.

Neil's hair was in disarray as he let go of all control of his anger. Max watched as his eyes caught on the discarded belt, and he dropped the cord to grab it. He didn't even check to make sure he was holding it right and swung, buckle first. The sound of the buckle to the flesh was grating and twisted her stomach. She was too stunned to cover her ears. Billy's body twitched with each swing, and she wondered if he was starting to go numb.

Neil's swings were barbaric, wild, and without mercy. All his fury was executed with each blow.

Billy couldn't stay still any longer. "Dad, stop! Dad, stop!" he cried quickly, his leg shaking out of control. Dad, please!" He wriggled over the hood, trying to dodge the blows to no avail. "Dad stop, please!"

"You're going to be respectful from now on, aren't you?" Neil said, throwing down another brutal thrash, the sound of the buckle making a deafening thunk.

"Yes! I swear! I swear! GAAHHH!"

Billy sobbed. He didn't care who was around anymore. His cries were far from dignified, now only desperate sounds of distress. His legs began to spasm, and he knew if the buckle hit anymore, he'd have broken open skin.

"You will learn respect and responsibility, understand?!"

"I understand! I understand, Sir!"

Neil lashed out again, and the belt buckle missed his behind and hit him in the back. Billy's horrifying scream was enough to rattle the windows.

"NEIL!"

Max watched as her mother spun in her seat, her hands covering her eyes as Max stared at Neil with wide eyes. He stopped, catching his breath as Billy heaved, sucking in lungfuls of air. His shoulders moved up and down. Nothing but Billy's low sobs filled the air. Billy tried to close his mouth to suppress the sounds of his cries, but he needed the air. He was feeling lightheaded, and he didn't know if it was from the beating or his screams. He couldn't suppress the relief he felt as the barrage of blows stopped.

"No more, no more, no more . . . fuck." His throat was raw, and the sound came out rough and quiet.

Max had never seen Billy this subdued, so willing to submit to Neil. His face changed as he caught his breath. There was no pain reflected, no anger. He just lied there and waited for Neil to act.

"Stay there," Neil demanded.

Oh, god. Is there more? Max thought. It had been at least 20 minutes. Billy looked as though he might pass out if Neil hit him anymore. She wasn't sure she would be able to stop herself from crying out too if he raised the belt once more.

She breathed a small exhale as she watched Neil put his jacket and belt back on. All the while he left Billy lying there. Neil propped his hands on his hips and stared at the ground for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. He sniffed and looked back up.

"Now," he said, "what did we talk about?"

"R-R-Respect . . ." Billy swallowed. ". . . and r-responsibility." He had to force the answers in between sobs while he tried to find his voice.

"Are you going to be more respectful?"

He nodded. "Y-Yes, sir."

"How?"

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, choosing his words carefully. "By watching what I say . . ." He sniffed. ". . . and watching my attitude."

"And how will you take responsibility?"

He shifted against the car, still pressed against his face. It was warm from his body heat. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he took a breath. "I'll buy a new cake and . . . and I'll be more mindful of the time."

"And what do you have to say to me?"

Neil said nothing as he waited. It took a moment for Billy to find the words. Finally, he sniffled before saying, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It damn well better not. Are we clear?"

"Y-Yes, Sir."

"Get up."

Billy slowly peeled himself off the car and took a moment to regain his balance as his legs throbbed and his knees threatened to give out once more. Max noticed how he seemed smaller, no longer standing tall and confident. He hunched over in defeat, or pain, perhaps both.

Billy pulled his underwear and pants up and winced as they drug against the abused flesh of his legs and behind. He met Neil's gaze and froze. He wanted to look away, to look anywhere but at his dad. But Neil held him there, to send the final message of who was in charge. To remind Billy why he should be afraid.

"Get in the car."

His dad walked past him and climbed into the front. Billy's eyes dropped to the radio and cassette tape lying on the ground. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight of the bits on the pavement, and he went to take a step toward it when his dad's voice startled him.

"Billy, get in the car now. I won't tell you again."

Billy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and sighed. Without looking at the radio again, he turned away and got into the car. He winced as he sat down and looked up to see his dad staring at him in the mirror.

"Well," he started, "Don't you have something to say?"

Billy cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry." His lips trembled, and the tears still slowly fell down his face. "I'm sorry, Susan."

"For?" Neil growled.

" . . . for being late, for not getting your cake, and . . . and for ruining your birthday."

Susan closed her eyes and sighed. "It's ok, Billy," she said softly.

Max tried to blink back her tears as Neil pulled back out onto the road and began driving. A steady stream of tears flowed down Billy's cheeks as he sat quietly, trying to keep from sniveling. He turned to look out the window, and the occasional sniffle could be heard as he tried to regain control of himself. She noticed his hands as they clenched the sides of his thighs and the tense way he flinched every time they hit a small bump. A small hiss escaped through his clenched teeth as he tried to ignore the pain. Shame twisted in her gut, unable to take the rare expression on his face. She stared and waited, but he never turned to glance at her.

Max looked away and sighed. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her lips trembling.

He turned only slightly, barely looking at her from the corner of his eye. Where she expected a look of pure loathing there was just . . . nothing. His eyes were puffy and swollen from crying. He looked . . . tired.

This is all my fault.

But he didn't want her apology. And for that, she couldn't blame him.

. . .

Max and Billy had both blinked in confusion when they pulled into the darkened parking lot of the restaurant. Neil climbed out and tapped on the window of Billy's side. "Get out," he ordered.

Unsure of what was happening, Billy just did as he was told and tried to fight through his sluggish movements. He didn't want to show any outward pain or any more weakness than he already had. Neil dug into his pocket and pulled out Billy's keys, dropping them into his hands.

"Drive straight home, you hear me?"

Billy nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Tomorrow, you stay in the house. The only time you can leave is when picking up that cake, understand?"

Billy's mouth hung open, and he stared at his dad in disbelief. A raw look on his face, like a wounded pup that had just been kicked. Even after all that, you still want to take from me?

"Tomorrow? Dad . . . the tickets . . ."

"You were late tonight. You can be late tomorrow."

Billy just stared, and he tried to plead with his eyes what he wouldn't say with his words. He wanted to cry again but knew it would only make things worse.

"You have a problem with that?"

"No, sir." It was a resigned sound. Defeated. Empty.

Neil sighed, and Max wasn't sure what to make of it. It was the kind of sound one made when one didn't know how to handle an awkward situation. But he just turned away from Billy and got back into the car.

On lead feet, Billy stumbled his way toward the Camaro and took his time as he climbed in. He tried to take it easy and gingerly sat down. He placed his hands on the steering wheel and waited while he watched the Chevette disappear down the road. As soon as it did, tears flooded Billy's eyes. A deep sob stirred in his throat, growing to be more prominent. He broke down, covering his eyes. It burst from him in wild, angry cries. He raged against his steering wheel, beating it with abandon while he screamed with tortured ferocity. His screams turned into sobs and after a moment he slumped his head into the wheel and gathered himself again as they died down.

Billy rubbed his eyes and, with a final sniff, began the drive home, staying at the speed limit, letting himself be soothed only by the gentle rumbling of his car.

To be continued . . .