Rise Of The Rejected Son-in-law

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Bang!

The old stick crashed against Ethan’s head, bursting a stream of blood that ran down his temple.

“Dad! Mom!, “Why are you here? What are you doing?!” Sandra’s trembling voice echoed through the room as she rushed forward.

A woman in her forties, wearing worn-out home clothes, grabbed Sandra’s wrist roughly.

“Don’t stop your father, Sandra! Let him beat this bastard to death today! If it weren’t for him, would our family have fallen so low?”

This was Martha Brooks, Sandra’s mother .

“Six years ago!” Martha shouted, “Six years ago, because of him, Violet and her family rejected us! Because of him, Violet married Benjamin Lannister. That man should have been your husband! Do you know how they mock us now? If not for this lunatic, you would’ve been the mistress of the Benjamin, living in luxury instead of rotting in this filthy hole!”

“Since that day, we’ve become a laughingstock! People sneer at us, your father and I can’t lift our heads anywhere. Every time I see Violet in the papers, I want to spit blood! You — you ran off to live in a stinking public toilet with a madman! And for what? For this useless man and his daughter? Are you insane too?”

Martha’s eyes flared with hatred as she glared at Ethan, as though she wished she could tear him apart with her bare hands.

Behind her, Henry Brooks, Sandra’s father, was breathing heavily, gripping the broken stick in both hands.

“Yes!” Henry bellowed. “Because of you, we’ve suffered for six years! You destroyed our daughter’s life! Today, if I don’t beat you to death, my anger will never be eased!”

He raised the stick again and swung it down with all his strength.

Slap!

The stick snapped in two upon impact but Ethan didn’t move. Not even a step back. Blood ran freely down his face, but his eyes remained calm and resolute.

Sandra screamed, “Dad, stop it!” She ran forward, pounding her fists weakly against her father’s chest. “Please! Stop hitting him!”

Ethan, standing and finally spoke, “Mom, Dad… six years ago, it was my fault. I failed to protect her. I failed to protect all of you.”

He looked at Sandra, and his daughter, “but I’m back now. I’ll make it right. I’ll take care of Sandra and our daughter. I swear, they’ll never suffer again—”

“Enough of your nonsense!” Martha cut him off, spitting on the ground in disgust. “You useless, deranged fool! What do you have to make it up with? What can you offer? You’re a curse! You brought nothing but shame and ruin to our family!”

“Mom!” Sandra snapped through tears. “It’s not his fault!”

“Not his fault?” Martha barked, her face contorted in disbelief. “Then whose fault is it? Does he think he’s invincible now? One word from the Lannisters and he’ll disappear without a trace! Tomorrow, you’ll divorce him — both of you! If he wants to die, let him do it alone! Don’t drag our family down with him!”

Sandra’s tears spilled over, her voice breaking.

“Mom, Dad, why do you keep forcing everything on me? Six years ago, you decided for me. Now again! Can’t you let me live my own life? I’m not your puppet!”

“Cry, cry, cry!” Martha yelled, slapping her own thigh in anger. “You’re always crying! We’re doing this for your own good!”

Suddenly, a small figure darted from behind the bunk bed — It was Amelia.

The little girl’s face was pale and swollen, her clothes torn, her small arms were trembling as she rushed forward. She threw her tiny arms around Henry’s legs and looked up with tearful eyes.

“Grandpa… Grandma… please don’t hit Dad. Don’t scold Mommy anymore… If you want to hit someone, hit me. It’s my fault Daddy is hurt. Please… please don’t be angry anymore…”

Her innocent plea froze the room.

Henry’s raised hand stiffened midair. The wooden stick slipped from his grasp. He slowly crouched down and patted Amelia’s head. “Go back inside, sweetheart,” he murmured weakly. “Grandpa’s not angry anymore…”

But as he pushed her gently toward the small bunk, Amelia’s little body suddenly went limp.

“Amelia!” Sandra screamed, dropping to her knees. She gathered her daughter into her arms.

Henry froze in horror. “I… I didn’t mean to…”

“Enough!” Sandra shouted through sobs. “Enough, Dad! Please… just go! Leave us alone!”

Henry wanted to speak but found no words.

After a long silence, he sighed heavily and turned to his wife. “Let’s go, Martha. She’s made her choice.”

Martha glared one last time at Ethan her eyes were filled with hatred and pain. “Fine! But remember, this madman stays away from us! He’s no longer part of our family!”

With a furious snort, she grabbed Ethan by the arm, tearing him away from Sandra, and dragged him toward the park exit.

Ethan didn’t resist.

Sandra carried her daughter inside and slammed the door close. Ethan watched the door closed. Outside, the sound of Martha and Henry’s curses slowly faded as they rode off on an old electric bike.

Ethan sat down on the curb. For a long minute he did nothing.

An off-road vehicle came churning up the lane. The door slammed and Logan Vane dropped out. 

“Phoenix sir!"

“Those people deserve worse than words. Tell me and I’ll deal with them tonight. We can—”

Ethan raised a hand. “Not like that.”

“It’s not heroism I’m after,” Ethan said slowly. “And don’t call attention to who I am. Brentwood’s idiots would make a spectacle of it.”

“The mayor told me to keep it down. He insisted on coming because he guessed they’d recognize you. I tried to stop him but—well, he’s the mayor.” He let out a breath. “I told him he needed a reason. I told him I’d find one. He trusted me.” Logan carefully explained.

Ethan nodded to that, “Our unit has a branch in Brentwood. Their holdings here make Lannister look like a shopfront.”

Ethan’s lips pressed together. “Find us a house. A proper one. Tomorrow I buy a place for Sandra and Anna. They won’t go back to that… that hole. You find three. After that, find out what Lannister needs most . Send someone to the company. Quietly.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not going to use the regiment?"

“No, you can go.” Ethan’s replied.

Logan Vane left helplessly.

Ethan sat there for a long time. An hour passed. He finally stood; his legs have become stiff.

He returned to the park and sat quietly by the gate of the small house. Behind that iron door was everything he had ever wanted but failed to protect. From tonight onward, he swore, he would guard them, give them the life they deserved, the safety, the honour, and the peace he had long denied them.

Just as his thoughts began to drift, the rusty iron gate creaked open.

Amelia came outside. She wore a little vest and shorts, her damp hair tied messily. In her hand, she clutched a small pack of biscuits.

She tiptoed towards him, when she got close, she stretched out her little hand, offering him the biscuits.

“Dad,” she whispered softly, “you haven’t eaten anything yet. These are the biscuits Mum bought me. They’re really good. You should eat them before you get hungry.”

Ethan froze. For a moment, words deserted him. The tiny bundle of warmth before him, the trembling voice, the earnestness—it tore through every wall he had built. His throat burned, but no sound came out.

Amelia, not understanding his silence, sat down beside him. She started to sit on the ground, but Ethan quickly reached out.

“Don’t,” he said gently, his voice hoarse. “You’ve just taken your bath. Sit on the bag instead.”

She nodded obediently and sat where he pointed, her small feet swinging above the ground. There was a long pause before she finally asked, voice small and uncertain,

“Are you really my dad?”

Ethan looked at her and nodded.

Amelia blinked, processing it for a moment. Then her lips trembled as she asked again, “Then… why did you go away before? All these years, I missed you. Everyone in school has a dad, except me.”

“They always said I’m the child of a woman who doesn’t have a husband… that I don’t have a father. Are you going to leave again? Is it because of Grandpa and Grandma? They always bully Mum and me… did they bully you too? Is that why you left?”

Ethan’s heart twisted painfully. Every word was a knife.

She tugged at his sleeve gently. “Daddy… please don’t leave again, okay? I’ll be good, I promise.”

Tears welled in Ethan’s eyes before he could stop them. They blurred his vision until all he saw was her small, hopeful face.

“I won’t leave again,” he whispered.

Amelia tilted her head, looking curious. “Did you go through a lot of hardship outside? You didn’t have a mummy to take care of you, right?”

He smiled weakly, brushing a tear from his cheek.

"If anything happens to you again, you should tell me, okay? Don’t keep it inside.”

Then, suddenly she said, “Oh! I almost forgot—I have a surprise for you!”

She jumped up excitedly and tugged on his hand. “Come on!”

Puzzled, Ethan followed as she led him toward the far side of the park, near the old public restroom. A few small trees and weeds grew wildly there. Amelia pushed the overgrowth aside with both hands, revealing a hidden little corner.

Behind the brush sat a scruffy yellow dog, wagging its tail beside a pile of dirty plastic bottles and crushed aluminium cans.

“Bad little puppy!” Amelia scolded with a pout. “You bit my bottles again!”

She turned to Ethan looking so proudly, “Look, Daddy! Isn’t it amazing? I picked all these up myself! You can sell them and use the money to buy a gift for Mum. Then she won’t be angry with you anymore.”

For a long moment, Ethan just stared at the pile. He crouched down suddenly, pressing a trembling hand over his mouth. His chest heaved, and then the tears broke free, pouring uncontrollably.

Amelia’s smile faded. She quickly knelt beside him, “Daddy, don’t cry,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “I’ll be a good girl from now on. I promise.”