Page 10 of Protector

I know he treats me like rubbish, but he’s still my daddy.

He continues towards the door, the guard opening it up straight away and closing it to his retreating back.

The guard at the door doesn't spare me a look either as I stand there.

Contemplating what it is I ever could’ve done to him—which is a huge rabbit hole to fall down, because I never find answers—my ears prick at the sound of brick smashing and falling onto the ground.

I forget about my daddy’s dismissal and run for the patio to find Dax and Puck picking up pieces of broken flower pot and King running further onto the grass to collect the ball.

Puck picks up shards of brown stone, and I can’t help but stare at him. He’s two years older than me, which makes him fourteen. As each day goes by, he’s growing taller and taller, his arms becoming bigger with muscle.

He and the boys go to the gym, but I think they mess around more than anything. Why do thirteen and fourteen-year-old boys need to go to work out? They don’t. But Puck’s arms are wide, and he looks so strong. I know he could pick me up easily without even getting out of breath.

I pull myself together and go to help them pick it up, when King’s voice barks at me from behind, the ball now under his arm.

“Leave it alone, Bonnie.”

I roll my eyes at him, even though he can’t see me.

Sometimes they all treat me like I’m fragile and can’t pick up some broken shards without cutting myself.

Ignoring him, I carry on, when his hand pulls my elbow back.

“Leave it alone, Bon.”

“King, I can pick it up. It’s fine.”

“What’s your problem?” I huff as he pulls me up fully. “I am capable.”

“That wasn’t my point.”

“So what’s your point?” I cross my arms.

King shrugs, and I go to speak as Puck stands up next to me.

“No harm done. It’s finished.”

I look down at the ground and see all the big pieces of the pot in both Puck’s and Dax’s hands. They walk over to the bin, placing them inside, and a gardener rushes over to sweep up the soil.

We move out of their way, down onto the grass, and King kicks the ball high into the air, Dax running backwards so he can catch it.

I follow aimlessly behind them, not saying anything but just observing, mainly Puck, when I crash into King’s back.

I stumble, almost tripping over my feet, but I manage to catch my balance before I fall.

“Jesus Christ, Bonnie, watch where you’re going,” King seethes, and I flinch at his harsh tone.

“I’m sorry I-” I start, but it’s his next words that make me falter.

“Just fuck off.”

King has never cursed at me before. In fact, I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him curse. I hear my daddy say bad words a lot. Usually, when he’s on the phone. But King wouldn’t say it. Especially to me.

My eyes start to water, and I look at Puck, embarrassed, before my eyes flit back to King. I can see he regrets it. There’s an apology in his eyes, but he never says the words. Instead, he turns around again, giving me his back and holding his hands out for Dax to kick the ball back to him.

I know he doesn’t mean it, and I know he loves me very much. At least, I think he does. He’s never given me a reason to doubt him before.

But maybe Daddy is changing him. What if King realises I am just a girl? A silly little girl. What if Dax and Puck start to think that too?

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