Page 15

Story: Protect

“Hope, get up,” he grits, the slight kindness from before disappearing.
“I’m not hungry, I can stay here,” I say, my voice wavering.
Another sharp exhale and he bends down, his fingers raking though my dirty hair, and he yanks me closer. “Don’t make me mad—be good now.”
I whimper as my scalp pricks. I claw at his hand, my feet digging into the ground, but I’m not strong enough as he pulls me higher.
“You always do this, making it harder than it needs to be.” He clicks his tongue as he hauls me with him.
My knees drag over the floor. “Please, let me go!” I wail.
I’m pulled out of my dark room and tossed into the light. His grip disappears, my eyes squint, and I blink away the blur.
“Now eat. We have a busy day,” my dad says and I whip my head towards him.
My sight is still blurred, my brows crease together, and the first things that catch my eyes are the cuffs and chains on the table in the center of the room. I know they’re not for him. He would never subjecthimselfto any kind of restraint. If he was capable of that, he never would have touched me. They’re waiting, empty and open like a threat forme.
“Busy day?” I dare to ask.
He chuckles without meeting my stare and glides a plate with food towards me.
“I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
My chest constricts and as my breathing shallows, my sight restores. In panic, I look around and take in the wooden walls, the big windows and the—wait… I know where we are…
JAXON
I’ve never seen a girl eat so fast before and it draws a smile on my face. I give her a gentle nudge before I whisper. “You can have some of mine if you want.”
She blinks at me, her lips part, but it’s as if she’s lost for words. I chuckle and glide some of my mashed potatoes to her plate without a word.
“What are you doing?” Coach bellows and slaps my plate away. “She has had enough, boy!”
I linger in my own confusion. “I’m full. She can have some of mine, Coach, it’s no big deal.”
Knox and Dimitri keep their mouth shuts, both probably as confused as I am. The tension is sharp. Coach’s jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth, a stern glare to his daughter before he sighs and laughs. His laughter creeps up my spine but as Knox joins, the strain in my shoulders fades and I lean back.
“She’s not yours to take care of, Jaxon. She’s mine,” Coach warns, and I nod.
She’s his. Not mine to take care of.
She’s his. Not mine to take care of.
I push back the chair and rise, drawing their attention back at me. “Need to take a piss,” I mumble and walk from the table.
My hands tremble, my throat dries, and I can’t explain this twist in the pit of my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Her soft voice forces me to turn. I face her as we stand in the hallway. Coach’s voice carries through the entire house.
“Why do you care?” I ask as that’s all that comes up in my thoughts.
Care.
I don’t care.
I never cared.
I don’t need it. Don’t want it. She’s nother.