Chasing Day Series: Chasing Day & Catching Day

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Authors: Twyla Turner
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the snow.
    He unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as he could. Chase wanted to find his mother first before his dad started in on him. Unfortunately, his dad had the ears of a freaking bat.
    “Who’s here?!” He shouted from the family room.
    Chase dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. “It’s me, dad,” He called back as he walked towards where his parents were watching TV.
    Ben McCoy looked up from his worn recliner chair when Chase walked into the room. The furious look on his dad’s face told of what was to come.
    “Hey, mom. Hey, pop.” Chase shoved his hands in his pockets.
    “So…the big hotshot college quarterback finally comes home to see his parents.” Ben mocked in a nasty voice.
    “Dad, don’t start.”
    “Ben, it’s Christmas.”
    Both Chase and his mom said at the same time.
    “Fuck that shit! He didn’t know our names during Thanksgiving. Hell, he didn’t even want us to drop him off at school when he left.” Ben railed.
    “How could you, when you can’t even stop drinking long enough to get outta that damn chair.” Chase blurted out angrily.
    “Look here, you fucking piece of shit! I oughta knock you into next year.” Ben shouted, getting up from the recliner.
    “Ben, please!” Stephanie pleaded.
    “ You keep your mouth shut or I’ll shut it for you!” Ben pointed a warning finger at her.
    “Go ahead, dad. I’m begging you.” Chase taunted, holding out his arms.
    Chase saw a hint of fear in his father’s eyes, right before Ben bent forward and charged him like a linebacker. Ben’s head rammed Chase in the gut as and he fell back. The wind was knocked out of him and before he could orient himself, his dad was on top of him. Ben punched him in the face a few times before Chase could retaliate.
    Ben was bigger, but not by much anymore. He was also out of shape from years of drinking and sitting on the couch. Once Chase could breathe again, he rolled over on top of Ben and his fists connected with the thin skin of the older man’s face. In his blind rage, he continued to throw punch after punch. His mom screamed, begged, and pleaded for him to stop, but he kept going.
    It wasn’t until his arms felt like lead and his emotions came up like bile to choke him that he finally stopped. Chase’s vision cleared and he saw that his father was a bloody, unconscious heap under him. He looked at his mother, who had tears streaming down her face in rivulets as she clutched the cordless phone to her chest. Out the window, he saw red and blue lights flashing. He realized that she must have called the cops.
    A loud knock sounded at the door, signaling that the flashing lights were, in fact, the cops. Stephanie ran to the door and opened it. They strode into the house and pulled Chase off of his father. They cuffed him just to be safe. Once his father regained consciousness, they got him into a chair, and they questioned the three of them.
    “Do you want to press charges, Mr. McCoy?” One cop asked.
    “Fuck, yeah! Motherfucker!” Ben bellowed through the blood oozing out his nose.
    “No, you won’t!” Stephanie spoke up, uncharacteristically. “He’s our son and you started it. I will not have you ruining his college career!”
    Ben huffed indignantly but remained quiet. The cops unlocked the cuffs that cut into Chase’s wrists. Some paramedics that had been called showed up and lead Ben to their ambulance to go get patched up. The older man’s nose was broken and quite possibly his ribs as well. Stephanie looked at Chase with sorrow-filled eyes and followed them out.
    Chase’s chest tightened, once he was alone. His emotions finally bubbled up to the surface. He collapsed to his knees and sobbed.
    Merry fucking Christmas.
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
     
     
    Daylen looked out the kitchen window at the flashing police and ambulance lights with a sense of dread. It was obvious that the McCoy reunion hadn’t gone over well. She prayed that Chase was okay. She

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