Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Page 32

  My dad winced. “Keep your voice down,” he said, bringing his hands to his head. “And what’s you beating the shit outta Ngaire gotta do with me and my boy?”

  “Everything! You call yourself a father, yet you do jack shit for that poor kid.”

  All pain left my dad’s face, anger replacing it. “I do the best I can.”

  “Well, I’d hate to see your worst.”

  “At least I didn’t raise my son to be a car-stealing crim.”

  Hemi opened his mouth, making me scared he was going to blurt out about my drug dealing, but instead he waved a hand at my dad, muttering, “Go back to your bitches, I’ll take care of Dante.”

  “Like hell you will, he’s my son.” My dad turned to me, pausing for a moment. “What’s wrong, boy?”

  I wondered what I looked like for him to say that. Wondered whether my eyes were red, because they felt like they were burning. I also wondered whether I looked as rung out as I felt. My mind, my thoughts, my soul were no longer pieced together, as though someone had written them across a mirror and had taken a bat to it, shattering them, the letters disintegrating, falling to the floor in pieces. A shattered piece of poetry of a broken boy in a soon to be broken home.

  My dad took a step towards me, his eyes now alert, his face filled with concern. “What happened, Dante?”

  “Nuthin’,” I said, too scared to tell him.

  “It sure as shit doesn’t look like it.” He closed the distance and took hold of my chin, his eyes locking on to mine. “Why are you crying?”

  Hemi cut in. “He—”

  “Shut up!” I screamed, yanking my face free, now panicked that Hemi was going to tell my dad.

  “But—”

  “No!” I cut him off. “It would’ve all been for nuthin’ if you talk. For nuthin!”

  My dad looked over at Hemi. “What’s goin’ on?”

  Hemi’s eyebrows rose. “The fact you hafta ask shows just how shit a father you are.”

  “I want answers, not insults!” my dad yelled.

  “You leave your own kid to pay the bills. That’s your job, not Dante’s.”

  My dad glared at him. “Jasper earns you money. He brought that Holden in the other day. Why can’t my boy contribute?”

  “I didn’t ask Jasper to do that,” Hemi snapped. “He doesn’t hafta work at all, yet Dante’s stressing out over paying bills, your bills.”

  “If you paid me better, I wouldn’t need him to contribute. I also wouldn’t be struggling every goddamn week.”

  “If you turned up to work, I’d pay you! But you’re more concerned with fucking random slutbags than doin’ the job you promised to do.”

  “They’re not random,” my dad spat. “I’m workin’ cos spray-painting pays fuck all.”

  “Spray-painting is a well-paid job, and what do you mean by workin’?”

  “What a load of crock. I get shit all for spray-painting, while the mechanics earn enough to go on fuckin’ trips to the Gold Coast, shoving their bloody pictures in my face, showing me things I wanna take my kid to.”

  “What do you mean by workin’?” Hemi repeated.

  “Those random slutbags pay more than you!”

  Hemi blinked at him. “You’re fucking for money?”

  “I call it putting food on the table for my kid. And if I hafta bang some pussy to get that, so the fuck what? It paid the rent this week, not your shit job.”

  “You shoulda told me.”

  “I’m not crawling to you on my hands and knees, begging for a pay rise you don’t think I deserve.”

  “If you turned up when you’re s’posed to, of course I woulda upped your pay. And if you were so desperate for money, I would’ve given you a loan rather than have Dante work or you whoring yourself out.”

  “He only does window washing part-time, which, by the way, also pays a shitload more than you do.”

  “You can’t be that dumb, Tane,” Hemi said, staring at him in disbelief. “Dante ain’t out washing windows, he’s—”

  “Shut up!” I cut him off. “What I do is none of your business.”

  Hemi’s attention moved to me. “It is my business. We’re whānau.”

  “No, you’re not!” I snapped. “My dad’s my whānau. All we need is each other.”

  “I don’t think CYFS will see it that way, Dante. Your principal made it clear as day they’re gettin’ involved. And after everything that’s happened, they’ll take you away if I don’t step in.”

  “What?” my dad gasped.

  Hemi scowled at him. “His principal called this morning while you were out humping those bitches. Said that Dante assaulted a teacher. The principal expelled him and has informed CYFS.”

  “You know I didn’t assault her,” I cut back in, things escalating again. “Please, Hemi, don’t do this to me. I’m begging you.”

  Hemi’s face softened. “I’m not the one doin’ it, Dante, and your dad can’t take care of you. He’s too unwell.”

  “I’m not living with you!” I indicated to Ngaire. “I can’t be around her.”

  “She won’t be stayin’ with me anymore, that’s if she’s even alive.” He threw Ngaire a glare. His sister still wasn’t moving, giving weight to his words.

  He continued, “And you will live with me or CYFS will take you away. Do you wanna go into foster care, or worse, juvie?”

  “I won’t be goin’ anywhere. Clara, I mean Mrs. Hatton said she’ll get me off, and me and my dad can live with Hunter.”

  “Hunter’s a convicted drug dealer. CYFS won’t allow you to live with him.”

  “You’ve been to jail for murder.”

  “I wuz cleared of that, so my record’s clean. And you can’t live with Hunter even if he didn’t deal. You forget your bro lives in that house with his woman and baby. Not only is there no room, Ash won’t let your father move in. He hates him.”

  “Me and my dad can move to Dargaville and live with one of my aunties.”

  “Your uncle will go after your father if he moves there. Those two men can’t be in the same town. Live with me and you’ll still see him.”

  “No one is taking my child away from me, least of all you!” my dad boomed at Hemi, his dark eyes blazing with fury.

  Hemi sneered at him. “If you care so much ’bout your son, you should’ve been out searching the streets for him today. You would’ve also been ringing the Devil’s Crew, demanding if they had him.”

  “I didn’t even know he wuz missing!”

  “Cos you were whoring!”

  My dad grimaced. “Money is money. And I live by my own rules, not yours.” His gaze swept the room, his expression darkening. “Fuck off, this ain’t a fuckin’ soap opera,” he snapped at the other gang members, all of them watching in rapt silence.

  “No, no,” Hemi said. “Let ’em all hear ’bout how the great Tane Rata has to fuck to get cash.” He turned his head towards his brother. “Hey, Killer, maybe you can get a fuck outta Tane after all, just pay for it and he’ll whip his tool of the trade out.”

  “Shut your mouth!” my dad yelled, stalking towards Hemi, his fists clenching.

  Hemi’s sneer grew. “Yeah, act all indignant, whore. Puff yourself up like you did at our kids’ school. Get all righteous like you did over that teacher for givin’ your boys googly eyes.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” my dad spat, the muscles in his arms tensing, looking like he was a fraction away from hitting Hemi.

  “If I shut my mouth, you’ll stay in the world of Tane, oblivious to everything else around you, oblivious to the fact you went after the wrong teacher.”

  “No!” I screamed.

  I rushed at Hemi, just wanting him to shut up, to close his fucking mouth, not to say Clara’s name, not to say another fucking word!

  My dad yanked me away from Hemi. I thrashed about, screaming, cursing, yelling at him to let me go, as well as screaming at Hemi that he didn’t know anything, that I didn’t fucking need him, didn’t fucking nee
d anyone but my dad and...

  “Who the hell is Clara?” my dad asked.

  I went still, my breathing heavy, my heart pounding.

  He tightened his grip on my arm. “Tell me.”

  “My girlfriend,” I said, yanking free.

  “More like a woman,” Hemi spat.

  “She’s younger than Ngaire,” I snapped back.

  My dad blinked. “What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean?” When I didn’t reply, his gaze moved to Ngaire, who had regained consciousness.

  At his attention, she pushed to her feet unsteadily. Her eyes were once more flooded with fear, but this time directed at my dad.

  “Tell me what the fuck that means?” he growled at her.

  She shook her head at him. “Nuthin’.”

  “Rape is not nuthin’!” Hemi barked.

  “What are you talkin’ ’bout?” my father asked, his attention returning to Hemi.

  Hemi grimaced at him. “Why do you think Ngaire wuz so willing to work for shit all from you?”

  My dad stared blankly at him.

  “To get to your boy, you fuckin’ moron. And you left him all alone with her.”

  My dad’s eyes widened with shock.

  Hemi indicated to Ngaire. “Do whatever the fuck you like to her, she’s no sister of mine. You can kill her for all I care.”

  Ngaire inched towards the door, shaking her head at my dad, terror colouring her brown eyes. “It wuz mutual, Tane. Dante wanted it.”

  My dad looked at me, then back at Ngaire. The next second all hell broke loose. Jasper leaped up, throwing himself in front of his auntie. Hemi yelled, “No!” and launched himself at my dad as he barrelled into Jasper, trying to get at Ngaire. My dad and Hemi went down, knocking Jasper and Ngaire to the floor too. My dad yelled out as Hemi’s massive weight crashed down on him. He lashed out with his elbow, knocking Hemi off him, then grabbed Ngaire’s ankle before she could get away.

  The Sousa twins launched into action. They clambered over my dad, forcing him to let go of her. Ngaire scrambled to her feet and went for the door. The prez grabbed her before she could escape, yanking Ngaire to the side, not letting her get away.

  My dad continued to wrestle with the Sousas, a third man helping the twins. Rafael howled in pain as my dad sunk his teeth into his forearm, also getting an elbow in his face. He fell back, while his twin jerked his head to the side, barely avoiding getting an elbow in his face too. Mattie screamed at Killer to grab my dad’s arm. Killer moved forward, setting my dad off even more.

  “Get your hands offa me, you faggot!” my dad bellowed, going nuts at Killer’s touch.

  Killer let go and scrambled away. Bringing his knees to his chest, he started to rock back and forth, mumbling shit I didn’t understand, looking like the looney tune everyone knew he was.

  “I’m gonna kill her!” my dad hollered as he tried to get free, but the Sousas and the other gang member managed to get a firm grip on him, pinning him to the floor. He started yelling in Māori, throwing out curse words and death threats, sounding like he was having one of his bipolar rages, just a hundred times worse.

  “TANE!” the prez yelled. “Stop this now!”

  Looking worn out, my dad finally did, relenting to the three men holding him down. His glare moved to Hemi, who was now leaning against the wall, breathing heavily and rubbing his chest.

  “You let this happen!” my dad shouted at him. “You let that foul bitch touch Dante!”

  Hemi shook his head. “No, you did it with neglect. Women are more important to you than your own son, like meth wuz more important to you than your oldest.”

  “I wuz sick! I’m clean now.”

  “No you’re not. You’re still an addict, just swapping drugs for fucking. Admit it, you’re using whoring as an excuse to get your end away.”

  “You don’t pay me enough!”

  “Stop lying to yourself, Tane. The reason you get paid shit is cos you constantly skive off, and if I weren’t your mate, I’d fire you like your last employer did. So, were you fucking women all those other times too? Clocking in, then taking off as though we didn’t fuckin’ know you weren’t here? Or pulling sickies, while you were balls deep in some skank?”

  My dad didn’t reply, confirming he had been.

  “I’m not the problem, your dick is,” Hemi said, looking disappointed with my dad’s silence. “You’re a selfish sonofabitch, a fuckin’ sex addict who has no right to be lookin’ after a fifteen-year-old kid, who’s forced to sell drugs just to pay your bills.”

  “What?” My dad’s startled gaze moved to me. He started to shake his head. “You didn’t, you didn’t?”

  “I had to, Dad,” I said, wiping my face, tears now wetting my cheeks. “Window-washing wouldn’t cover costs.”

  “Hunter?”

  “No, someone else,” I lied. “Hunter refused to supply me.”

  His face hardened. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not, so you can’t hurt him.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “This isn’t Hunter’s fault!” I yelled back, losing my shit, losing my fucking mind. “You let those skanks use our electricity, let ’em soak under the shower for ages. Do you think that’s free? And I only sold to other kids at school, so get offa my case. It wuzn’t dangerous and paid the bills.”

  He stared at me, his face devastated. “Drugs destroyed our family. Destroyed me.”

  “I don’t sell meth. That’s a condition.”

  “Drugs ruin people, son.”

  “It doesn’t ruin me! It helps me. Helps pay for shit, also helps me to forget ’bout shit.”

  My dad’s face dropped. “You better not tell me you’re doin’ more than weed.”

  “Sleeping pills, coke, uppers, downers, whatever I can get my hands on. And not from Hunter! I get it straight from his boss,” I said, building the lies up to protect my cousin, because there was no way my dad would go after a drug lord. Even he wasn’t that stupid.

  He started shaking his head rapidly, fear now colouring his eyes. “No, no, you can’t, not from Craven. He’ll ruin you. You didn’t sign anything, did’ja?”

  “No, so you can get offa my case.”

  “No! Craven’s deadly. Please tell me you’re lying. Please tell me it’s Hunter.”

  Unable to say any different, not unless I wanted my cousin hurt, I went for the door. I burst through it, running for the exit, needing to get away, to be anywhere but here.

  The door banged behind me. “Stop him!” Hemi yelled out.

  I ducked as a gang member pushed up from a seat, grabbing for me. I shot away from him, bolting through the cloakroom. I yanked the front door open, rushing past Kapo. The guard stumbled to the side, obviously taken by surprise.

  Desperate to escape, I started sprinting across the car park. Hemi yelled at Kapo to get me. I glanced back as Kapo started running, my dad and Jasper following Hemi outside. I sprinted faster, aiming for the side door by the gate. A gunshot rang out, making me stop in my tracks. Disbelieving that Kapo would shoot at me, I spun around to face him, but he wasn’t holding a gun. Then I looked at Hemi—

  Hemi clutched his chest, his face shocked. He fell to his knees, blood coming from his chest. Jasper screamed and dropped down to his dad, grabbing him as he fell forward. Another shot rang out. Kapo staggered back. He went for his gun, a second shot dropping him. I spun around at the sound of buzzing. My eyes widened, stunned by what I saw. Motorbikes were cutting through the vineyard, while a white van with massive bull bars was barrelling down the driveway, heading straight for the gate.

  My dad screamed, “Run, Dante! Run!”

  I pivoted and sprinted for the door as bullets ricocheted off the concrete ground. The prez and another Skin appeared through the doorway, firing at what I presumed were the Devil’s Crew. My dad grabbed Jasper, yelling at him to get inside. Jasper shoved him away and wrapped his arms around his dad again, who looked dead.

  A bullet hit the ground next t
o my dad as I neared him. I grabbed his arm as he tried to get Jasper up again. He ripped free from my grasp and shoved me towards the door, yelling at me to get inside. He turned back to Jasper, frantically trying to pull him off Hemi. But Jasper was gripping his dad too tight, crying and screaming for him.

  Men from the second storey started firing at the DC as the van crashed into our gate. The metal groaned, but held strong. The van backed up and revved its engine, going for it again. Someone appeared through the gate’s side door. The prez shot him, then turned to help my dad yank Jasper away from Hemi. They shoved him towards the door, but Jasper turned back, determined to stay with his dad. More DC came through the fence’s door. They fired at us, a hail of bullets hitting the building. Jasper fell back, knocking us through the doorway. I yelled out as he landed on me. I pushed him off, my eyes going wide at the blood on my hands. I looked down at Jasper’s stomach and screamed.

  30

  Clara

  I ran back into my house, my father yelling at me to wait. I hurried through my lounge, heading for the spare room. I yanked open the wardrobe and pulled out my suitcase, dragging it into my bedroom.

  My father burst through the doorway as I unzipped the suitcase. “Is it true?” he asked. “That boy was fifteen?”

  “Yes,” I sobbed, opening my top drawer. I started tossing my underwear into the suitcase, going as fast as I could, just needing to get away.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving before the police come for me.”

  “You can’t just up and leave.”

  “Watch me.”

  I went for the wardrobe, pulling my clothes off their hangers. I didn’t think the police would come straight away, I wasn’t even sure they’d arrest me over a kiss, but I did know if the rest came to light I’d be done for. Which meant, I had to get as far away from Auckland as possible.

  “Clara, this is crazy,” my father said. “You can’t hide in New Zealand, it’s too small. Let me call my lawyer.”

  I spun around on him. “For what? So he can get me a year instead of three? Because I will go to jail if the police find out what I did.”

  He stared at me, his face shocked. “The boy said he was eighteen.”