Yield by Bryan K. Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

door. “ Remember last time? ” Kat asks, lowering her voice. “ We ’ re lucky that boy ’ s parents didn ’ t sue us. ”
    Haley stares at the television set and rhythmically chews. The parental frequency is like static in her ears. “ Not my fault Dad ’ s an alcoholic. ”
    “ Haley! ” her mom hisses. Katherine ’ s emotions flash from surprise to sadness — then outrage — in a single heartbeat. Their echoes linger on her face.
    “ Like it ’ s a secret, ” Haley scoffs. The teenager glares at her mother, disrespect filling her eyes for trying to hide something so obvious.
    “ Well, he isn ’ t anymore. Okay? ” Katherine ’ s words stammer out of her in weak defense, not sure who needs more convincing. “ We ’ re past that. He ’ s going to those meetings now. Your dad has a support group and everything. It ’ s over. ”
    “ Right. And I ’ m sure those always work. ”
    Years of muted remorse and lies twist Katherine ’ s face. How long has she known? The weight of new doubt pushes down like cracked rock upon her shoulders. “ Give him another chance, Haley, ” Katherine says softly. She tries to blink back tears. “ Please. ”
     
    *  *  *
     
    Devin ’ s callused hands knock cheerfully on his son ’ s door. Slightly ajar, it swings open to the shrill cry of brass hinges. “ Come on, Tyler. ” Devin peeks inside. A small shape rustles against the brown and green-dashed football blanket. The walls are covered with Chicago Bears posters. Refrigerator Perry and Mike Singletary watch protectively over the little boy, fighting for fleeting attention next to a well-used baseball glove on the nightstand.
    Tyler Bane ’ s chaotic hair most closely resembles the spikes of a hedgehog. He rolls groggily towards the voice, opening and closing his heavy eyes. The boy tries unsuccessfully to focus them. Blinking somewhere between sleep and consciousness, Tyler sees a soft silhouette smiling in the doorway.
    “ Let ’ s go, ” the annoyingly eager shape barks.
    “ I ’ m up, ” Tyler groans. The eight-year-old rolls grumpily out of bed and stumbles past.
    “ How about a ‘ good morning ’ ? ” Devin asks. His son just trudges down the hallway without a word. “ Weren ’ t you going to work on those people skills? ”
    “ Mmm, ” Tyler grumbles. He continues walking, not awake enough to register the veiled threat. The boy scratches at the tangled nest of reddish-blond hair on the back of his head. He yawns, trying to ignore his father on the way to other priorities.
    “ Uh-uh, ” Devin says. His emerald green eyes snap their usual morning cheer away and lock on target. He takes off down the hallway, his body quiet as it closes the gap. Devin catches his son mid-stride. “ I might take that crap from your sister, ” he grunts, picking up the 6 0-pounder and slinging him over his right shoulder. “ But you are so much lighter. ”
    “ Dad! ” Tyler shouts out, squirming in his father ’ s grasp.
    “ Teach you to grunt at school, do they? ” Devin digs his fingers into Tyler ’ s ribs. “ Glad to see your tuition ’ s well-spent. ” The boy ’ s fierce morning temper finally breaks. His laughter bounces down the stairway and across the house.
    “ Stop! ” the boy screams. But his dad just continues the vicious attack.
    “ Don ’ t you get enough of that at work? ” Katherine asks her firefighter as they loudly enter the kitchen.
    “ But they ’ re never this light, love, ” Devin says. He lowers his gasping son to the floor. “ I always get the big ones. The old, hairy, big ones. ”
    “ That better be all you get, ” Katherine snaps, her eyebrow shooting up. She stops spreading the cream cheese on her bagel and points the butter knife ominously at him. “ I don ’ t want to hear about you carrying any other pretty blonds out of burning buildings, Mr. Bane. ”
    “ Absolutely not, hon, ” he says with a straight face. “ I ’ ll just let them burn.