A Girl Called Kill

Chapter 7

I felt the bed sink behind me before Tré's hand touched my arm. "Bree, what's the matter?"

I just cried harder tucking my knees up towards my chest.

"I miss Mom" I cried

"Oh Bree..." Tré sighed "Come here, sit up"

I sat up against the headboard wiping my cheeks with my hand.

"Dad doesn't even care;" I muttered "He's just turned into some punishment Nazi"

"Trust me Bree, he cares, he cares a lot"

"No he doesn't!" I yelled "If he cared then he'd talk about her, he doesn't, ever!"

"Of course he does"

"When?!" I yelled "Name one time he's even mentioned her in passing in the last year!"

Fresh tears streaked my cheeks as I looked at Tré for an answer.

"All he cares about is this fucking band and taking care of Billie since his divorce from that stupid tramp!" I yelled "What about me, Tré?! I'm his fucking daughter!"

I let him pull me into a hug and just cried into his shoulder. "He hates me..."

"Breena, he doesn't hate you"

I didn't answer and he continued

"This is just as hard on him as it is on you, Bree; he's just...really good at hiding it."

"It's easy to hide if you don't care" I muttered leaning on his shoulder

"Bree," he said with a sigh "Have you ever seen your dad cry?"

I thought for a minute "No..."

"Even when your mom died, do you remember seeing him cry?"

"No..."

"But you did, didn't you?" He asked "You cried a lot"

I didn't answer, just swallowed the lump in my throat, I had a feeling I knew what he was getting at.

"And your dad was right there all day long, he didn't let go of your hand once." He said "He hugged you and let you cry whenever you needed to"

I felt tears prick my eyes and I balled my hand into a fist on his chest.

"What you don't know, Bree, the night of the funeral after you finally fell asleep, Billie and I sat up with your dad all night long and he cried until he couldn't anymore; you're the most important thing in the world to your dad and he knows better than anybody what you need; he does what he does because he loves you and losing you would destroy him. He doesn't hate you, Bree he just can't stand the thought of losing you; if you asked him to leave the band tomorrow he wouldn't give it a second thought"

"I would never do that..." I sniffed "He loves that stupid band too much"

"He loves you a hell of a lot more" Tré said

I sat quiet for a minute just staring at the wall before I spoke.

"Tré?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you stay with me?" I asked "I mean like...here?"

"I told you I would"

"No," I shook my head "I mean here, in bed...."

"Oh Bree, I don't know, that doesn't look very-"

"Please?" I asked cutting him off "I don't want to do anything, I just want someone to hold me"