Be My Anchor

Chapter Sixteen

Gabe's mother stood in front of me, fuming.

I had thrown myself in front of Gabe, thinking I could protect him this way. I'd only managed to get myself slapped. My cheek was still stinging.

"How dare you?" she yelled. "He's my son! Go away!" She raised her hand again and I instinctively flinched away, but the pain never came.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Dad appeared next to me, catching the hand before it hit me again. He stared down at Mrs. Alejos with searing anger. I'd never seen him that mad before. I rarely ever saw him mad at all.

Gabe had since jumped to his feet. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me back, placing himself in front of me. I was too shocked to move on my own. With his back facing his mother, he took my face in his hands, turning it to one side for examination.

"I'm fine," I said before he could ask and I turned my head back to look at him.

Gabe continued to study my face with concern. He brushed his thumb under my eye and over my cheek. I instinctively leaned into his touch. I could see tears forming in his own eyes, but he blinked them away before they could fall. He turned around reluctantly giving me a full view of our parents over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you," Dad said. Though the threat was clear, his voice was so steady that I almost couldn't tell that he was angry. The look on his face and the protective stance he took between Gabe's mother and I, however, made it evident enough.

With my dad around, Mrs. Alejos was less bold and slumped back to her wall. Dad never took his eyes off her. She just watched him from the corner of her eye.

"Gabriel," she hissed as if Dad and I wouldn't be able to hear it. "Come here."

Gabe hesitated. I grabbed his hand to silently keep him from going over. He stayed by me.

"Mom," he started, "just come back to the room with me so you can lie down."

"No, I like the fresh air," she protested.

"You'll feel better once you lie down, I promise."

Mrs. Alejos blinked a couple of times before her mouth broke into a grin. "Always the doting son. You take good care of me. Come. Come here."

This time Gabe stepped forward at his mother's command. I tried to pull him back, but he kept saying "it's okay" and pried off my grip on him. I let my hand fall limply to my side. Gabe walked up to his mother and she took his arm.

As they walked away, I could do nothing but stare after them. It didn't feel right. If it was up to me, he wouldn't be anywhere near her.

Dad turned to me and enveloped me in his warmth, squeezing tightly. I hugged him back gratefully.

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled into his shirt.

"I was worried. I followed you when you ran away. And it's a good thing I did," he explained. He pulled away, holding me at arm's length and raising his eyebrows at me. "What the hell did you do to that woman?"

His joke fell flat. I really want in the mood, but I knew I had to tell him what happened. I didn't want to explain. It was hard to say it out loud. I took a deep breath, but it didn't do much good.

I started, "I ran over here and I found them—Gabe and his mom—and she was drunk. She pushed him so I stepped in, but she just hit me instead. And Dad-"

I thought back to the conversation I had with Gabe just hours earlier. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone about his mom, but after what Dad just saw, I was pretty sure he already knew.