I guess I should start from as far back as I can remember. What I remember is hate.
I never knew my real father. My mother left him when I was five or six, I think. I am told he loved the ocean, drinking, and spare women - not necessarily in that order. As far back as I can remember, my stepfather, Jack, was with us. He used to beat up my mother on a regular basis. I always vowed that I would get revenge for this and for what he did to my sisters.