Read Online Discovering Dalton (Manchester Menage Collection #2) by Nicole Colville - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nicole Colville
Ads: Link
shit, and Troy really didn’t see things getting any worse when he was an adult. He thought he’d put the worst behind him as a child, but he’d been wrong. So wrong.
He’d grown up in Manchester, only thirty minutes from where he lived with Terry and Alice after they fostered him, and after he’d been taken away, his mum stayed local. They had a tough time reconnecting, and he didn’t see her for a long time, but when he turned eighteen, he received a letter from her and things slowly changed between them. Through the next year they moved on and eventually they had some sort of relationship, not mother and son, but they became friends at least.
His dad was a real piece of work who basically married his mum so he could move over to the UK. They met while she and her friends were on vacation in Turkey. Two months later, she’d gone back and they were married and he was on the plane back to England with her. A month after that and Troy was on the way.
He was five when he first remembered seeing his dad punch his mum in the face, six when she ran into his bedroom, cowering under the sheets with him as his dad pounded on the door, shouting at her to get outside. He held back from beating her in front of Troy at that stage, and his room was often the only safe place in the house for her.
Troy remembered being so scared his dad would come in and hurt him, he’d asked his mum to go outside. Thinking back with an adult’s mind, he could see he was just a child who was afraid, and who wanted his parents to stop arguing, not understanding what was going on. It was only with hindsight he put all the pieces together and knew just what he was sending his mum into.
At seven, he came home from school to find his dad’s hands wrapped around her throat, choking her in the hallway. Their eyes connected and he dropped his mum to the floor—coughing and gasping for air. By seven, Troy knew not all mums and dads lived like they did. Their mums weren’t covered in bruises, and they didn’t live in fear of doing something wrong.
The thing is, she couldn’t do anything right. It was like he changed the rules when he wanted, catching her out and punishing her for it. The house was never clean enough, even though it was pristine, not a single thing out of place. Troy learned from the age of two to clean up after himself, one toy out at a time, no messy fingerprints on anything. His mum would try to shield him from the most of it, but things were tough.
His dad was the funniest person you could ever want to meet. He was everyone’s friend, talked to anyone, made friends at the drop of a hat, always buying drinks and joining in the fun. He went to every school event, made a big show of playing happy families. To the rest of the world they were happy, behind closed doors, he changed like flicking a switch.
As soon as they were alone he would slam the door and just look at his mum. She’d worn the wrong dress, she looked like a slut, her hair wasn’t styled like he wanted. She spent too long talking to another man and made him look stupid. The way she laughed with the other women made her look like an idiot. It would go on and on.
Troy would stick up for her, say she’d been just like the other mums. As he got older, a quick slap to the back of the head would be delivered by his dad and Troy would be pushed up the stairs while the fighting continued.
At eighteen, he was waiting in the pub for her to turn up. After an hour, he got worried and walked past the flat she and his dad lived in. She’d never told his dad about their meetings, and Troy hadn't wanted to see him, so they’d always been careful, but something was bugging him.
From the information his mum told him, he knew his dad should be at work, so he made his way up to the second floor and found the front door opened an inch. As soon as he went to push it, his eyes fell on a red smear on it and he paused. It could have been anything, but Troy knew inside it was
He’d grown up in Manchester, only thirty minutes from where he lived with Terry and Alice after they fostered him, and after he’d been taken away, his mum stayed local. They had a tough time reconnecting, and he didn’t see her for a long time, but when he turned eighteen, he received a letter from her and things slowly changed between them. Through the next year they moved on and eventually they had some sort of relationship, not mother and son, but they became friends at least.
His dad was a real piece of work who basically married his mum so he could move over to the UK. They met while she and her friends were on vacation in Turkey. Two months later, she’d gone back and they were married and he was on the plane back to England with her. A month after that and Troy was on the way.
He was five when he first remembered seeing his dad punch his mum in the face, six when she ran into his bedroom, cowering under the sheets with him as his dad pounded on the door, shouting at her to get outside. He held back from beating her in front of Troy at that stage, and his room was often the only safe place in the house for her.
Troy remembered being so scared his dad would come in and hurt him, he’d asked his mum to go outside. Thinking back with an adult’s mind, he could see he was just a child who was afraid, and who wanted his parents to stop arguing, not understanding what was going on. It was only with hindsight he put all the pieces together and knew just what he was sending his mum into.
At seven, he came home from school to find his dad’s hands wrapped around her throat, choking her in the hallway. Their eyes connected and he dropped his mum to the floor—coughing and gasping for air. By seven, Troy knew not all mums and dads lived like they did. Their mums weren’t covered in bruises, and they didn’t live in fear of doing something wrong.
The thing is, she couldn’t do anything right. It was like he changed the rules when he wanted, catching her out and punishing her for it. The house was never clean enough, even though it was pristine, not a single thing out of place. Troy learned from the age of two to clean up after himself, one toy out at a time, no messy fingerprints on anything. His mum would try to shield him from the most of it, but things were tough.
His dad was the funniest person you could ever want to meet. He was everyone’s friend, talked to anyone, made friends at the drop of a hat, always buying drinks and joining in the fun. He went to every school event, made a big show of playing happy families. To the rest of the world they were happy, behind closed doors, he changed like flicking a switch.
As soon as they were alone he would slam the door and just look at his mum. She’d worn the wrong dress, she looked like a slut, her hair wasn’t styled like he wanted. She spent too long talking to another man and made him look stupid. The way she laughed with the other women made her look like an idiot. It would go on and on.
Troy would stick up for her, say she’d been just like the other mums. As he got older, a quick slap to the back of the head would be delivered by his dad and Troy would be pushed up the stairs while the fighting continued.
At eighteen, he was waiting in the pub for her to turn up. After an hour, he got worried and walked past the flat she and his dad lived in. She’d never told his dad about their meetings, and Troy hadn't wanted to see him, so they’d always been careful, but something was bugging him.
From the information his mum told him, he knew his dad should be at work, so he made his way up to the second floor and found the front door opened an inch. As soon as he went to push it, his eyes fell on a red smear on it and he paused. It could have been anything, but Troy knew inside it was
Similar Books
