Page 7 of The Loathing

“Go away!” my own voice loud as I lay on my bed, scrolling through my phone. “I am ignoring you! Stop shouting my name!”

But he doesn’t listen, of course he doesn’t. He comes barrelling through my bedroom door like the fucking wrecking ball that he is.

“Do you not understand what go away means?” I don’t even lift my eyes to focus on him, I just continue aimlessly scrolling.

“Why are you so fucking stubborn?” he growls.

“Must be genetic,” I side eye him, smirking but he doesn’t return it.

“Do you not understand how serious this is? You could sit down and talk to me and your mother about this like an adult, you were quite proud to tell us you were an adult downstairs and that we’re treating you as a child, yet who was the one who stormed to her room like a brat?” his vicious tongue whips at my skin but it doesn’t affect me. I can deal with the wrath of my father; his harsh words don’t bother me in the slightest.

“I don’t want to sit down and talk, it would make no difference, would it? If I was to sit down and tell you how I felt, would anything change?” I ask and I sit up slowly, turning to face him, my eyes burning into his, but he looks away like a coward, his large hand brushing through his dirty blonde hair before he drops his head. “Exactly,” I tut, shaking my head from side to side.

“Amora,” his eyes lift to mine, darting back and forth between them and I see how his face softens. He steps cautiously towards me and sits next to me, his hand reaching for mine as he clasps them in his grip. “I love you, so much, as does your mother,” he rasps, “I know this seems unfair, but I have always been very transparent with what I do. And unfortunately, I was tipped off incorrectly and I took the wrong person down and now, well, they’re out for blood. And for some unknown reason, they’re threatening me with you. I can’t risk losing you,” my father chokes, and my heart constricts in my chest.

“You’re not going to lose me; what makes you think they’re serious?”

“Because these people don’t fuck about with shit like this.” He rolls his lips. “You’re an easy target, they want to hurt me and it would be too unsatisfying if they put a bullet in my head, so, they would come for you,” he sighs and shifts his body slightly to face me, his head cocking to the side. “I can’t lose you Amora.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I admit again but this time in a whisper, “and I hate arguing with you dad, but you’re suffocating me and now you’re telling me that I’m having a babysitter coming to look after me.”

“Well, you were going to America,” he rushes out and my eyes widen.

“What?!”

“But I couldn’t have you that far away from me. At least with you being here, I know someone will always have eyes on you.”

“Yeah,” I roll my eyes, “you and mum, I don’t know why we need a bodyguard, also, we have Xander and Ezekiel.”

“No, I don’t want to involve them. You all have targets on your back, your easy ransom to them, whereas by me hiring a bodyguard for you, I can get someone who will dedicate all of their focus on you,” his grip tightens over my hand, “and I can’t give you all of my focus. I need to find out why The Knight Brothers are sending these threats, best case scenario it’s just a dud and nothing comes of it. But worst case…” he stalls, his eyes reaching mine.

“I know,” I nod, running my tongue across my bottom lip. We sit in silence for a moment as the dust settles between us.

“Now, come downstairs. Your mother is all over the place with it all,” his hand slips off mine and I look at how much my dad has aged in the last few years.

I nod, standing from the bed and following my dad down the narrow hallway until we reach the sweeping staircase. Letting my fingers glide down the banister until I am at the bottom. My dad disappears into the office, and I continue walking towards the kitchen that runs across the back of the house. My mum is standing by the French doors that lead out to the back garden, the wildflowers dancing in the soft spring breeze.

“Mum,” I say softly, she turns round, her eyes red rimmed, tears threatening to escape as she holds a handkerchief under her nose.

“Oh, honey,” relief swarms her as she rushes towards me, pulling me in for a hug. The softness of her lilac sweater pressing against my skin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“For what?” she asks as she pulls away, her hands still holding onto the top of my arms.

“For the way I reacted, the things I said…”

“Amora,” she tsks, smiling as a single tear escapes and runs down her cheek, “I would be concerned if you didn’t act that way,” a little scoff escapes her. “You are mine and your father’s child after all, we are both fiery and stubborn and you,” she presses her finger to the tip of my nose, “are a carbon copy of both of us, but just in one body… where mine and your father’s emotions are split between the two of us, you have them all bottled up inside of you.” Her head tilts to the side as her beautiful eyes bounce back and forth between mine, “Don’t ever apologise for who you are,” her arms wrap round my slender frame as she pulls me in for another hug but this time, she holds me a little tighter.

“I promise I’ll behave.”

My mum laughs, her whole body vibrating against mine.

“I don’t want you to behave, just be a little more welcoming to your father’s suggestions.” A giggle bubbles out of me. “And don’t make the bodyguard’s life hell.”

“Ugh,” I groan, breaking away and pushing my hands into the back of my jeans pocket as I skate across to put the kettle on. “When is he coming?” I ask as I reach for three China cups.

“No idea, your father is meant to be sorting out the finer details this week apparently,” she shrugs as she steps closer to me, but reaches for the fridge door and grabs the milk.

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