Fighting With Light (The Coldwell Brothers #2)

Prologue

Liam

13 years old

“Hurry, Kai. We have to go. Your father could come back any minute,” Mom says. I rush to keep up with my brothers and try to ignore the way my stomach rolls. Dad came after Mom again tonight and it was the last straw for her. In all of his anger and drunken stupor, he grabbed her neck and squeezed. The three of us fought to get him away from her. Then it struck me that my father hated my mother so much he wanted to kill her. He wanted to take her from us and that didn’t make sense to me. I hoped that something would eventually change because he always yelled about being stressed or his constituents being difficult. I thought that was temporary…it wasn’t because he got worse.

I’m the youngest of my three brothers, and they have done their best to protect me, but they don’t seem to understand that I need to fight back, too. My father shouldn’t hurt us like this, but he’s my dad. Isn’t he supposed to love his family? I was willing to take the beatings like the rest of my brothers, if it meant we could be a happy family. The older I got, the clearer it was that he would never change, but a little part of me always hoped he would. That part of me has turned to ashes now.

The only reason we have stayed here is because my father stole the fortune my grandpa left to my mother, the last remaining Astor of the family, and she swore she would get it all back. My grandfather wouldn’t be happy with what my dad did. But I also understand that we won’t get far from a man like my father and his connections without money. For years, she promised to get us out after she got the money back, but I think our time is up .

We get our bags into the Expedition and Mom backs out of the driveway. I stare at the only home I’ve ever known as we pass it because I have a feeling that this will be the last time I ever see it. We’re not coming back.

Our father is a United States Congressman and if people knew what he did behind closed doors, he would be in jail. People tend to look at only the pretty things that don’t inconvenience them. They refuse to see the pain behind the smiles because they don’t want to. No one has noticed what my father does to us, so I can only assume that they will continue to ignore it long after we’re gone.

I don’t think it matters where we end up, but I understand that I’ll have to play my part in our survival. It won’t be easy, and there’s a feeling deep in my gut that we will be forced to do things none of us ever thought we would be capable of.