"Josh, do you want to give your mom her gift now?" Dad asks as Mom gets up and goes into the kitchen to get dessert.

"Uh-huh," the little brat says, nodding his head while jumping up and down in his chair.

"Well, go get it," Dad tells him with a chuckle. "Tim?" he turns to me, one eyebrow raised disapprovingly.

"What?" I snap as I slump even farther into my chair. I haven't gotten Mom a present for Mother's Day since before the brat was born. I sure as hell wouldn't get her one now. He knows it, too. Asshole.

"Sit up!" he growls as he leans over to slap me on the shoulder. "Do you have something for your mom?"

"No," I mumble, rubbing away the hurt.

"Why not?" he demands, his brows lowering over his eyes. "Why must we always go through this?"

"She doesn't even like me. Why should I get her a stupid present?" I yell as I get up from the table and stomp upstairs to my room.

I slowly start to count. The door to my room slams open on the count of one hundred. That was fast. I can usually get to three or four hundred before he shows up.

"Just what the fuck was that all about?" he shouts, getting in my face.

"You know what that was all about," I shout right back. I will not be cowed by him anymore. "Neither one of you likes me. So why should I show you respect when you don't show any to me?" I demand as I thump my fists on my chest for emphasis.

"How about the fact that we gave you life? A roof over your head? Food in your belly? And clothes on your back?" he screams at me, backing me up against my desk, spittle hitting me in the face. "You will show us respect because we're your parents, damnit!"

"You've never shown it!" I test my limits by shoving him back a little so I can stalk away. "You've never shown me anything near what you show Josh on a daily basis," I state as I spin to face him.

He pokes me in the chest with his finger. "I don't owe you a damn thing. If I want to treat the dog better than you, that's my prerogative. And there ain't a damn thing you can do about it."

"I can leave," I raise my chin as I try to bluff my way out of this hole I've just dug for myself.

He just laughs. "Oh, really? And just where would you go, huh?" he backs up a step and spreads his arms. "Everything in this house belongs to me. You wouldn't get very far without any clothes. So, go ahead. Leave. But if you do, remember that you'll leave with exactly what you arrived with. Nothing," he walks from the room, still chuckling. "'I can leave,'." he mocks me as he makes his way back to the dining room and his perfect little family.