Ethan's POV (Bonus Book)

Chapter Twelve - Ethan's POV

My heart jumped a little from shock, and not wanting to be disobedient, I lunged forward and kicked the boy sharply on the leg, causing him to let out a small grunt of pain.

Immediately, a bright grin broke through my father's face. "That's a good boy, Ethan, now do it again," he encouraged.

With a smile, I threw a kick to the boy's stomach, happy that I was making my father happy. As the ginger boy crouched over in pain, my father released his collar; and let him fall to a heavy heap on the floor.

Nodding his head down to the floor, he gave me a pointed look. "Now, kick him in the face, Ethan. Let him know he's never to mess with you again," he called out.

The ginger boy crouched into a smaller ball. "No, please, don't; I'm sorry, Ethan. Please stop." The boy cried; his face now visibly stained with tears.

 I hesitated, remembering my mother's words of being kind to your enemies.

"I said, do it, Ethan," my dad ordered. 

My eyes darted back and forth between the boy, and my father, wondering what to do. In a final moment of panic, I gave a swift kick to the boy's nose, and the boy let out a sharp howl of pain.

Before I got too much of a chance to see the blood pour from his nose, I felt my dad put a guiding hand on my shoulder and turn me away.

Bending down to my level, he smiled back at me with one of his wide, and heart-warming grins.

 "Did that make you feel better, Ethan?" he smiled. 

I stared at him for a while, then slowly, I nodded my head with a smile on my face, deciding it had made me feel good. I always felt good when I made my dad proud.

"That's good," he laughed, his voice taking on a musical tone. 

Then slowly, his eyes took on a more serious light. "You should always hold on to that anger, Ethan. It makes you strong; it's how you take back the power. If someone ever makes you feel insecure, or weak or doubting, you use it: you use that anger," he explained gently. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Ethan?"

I swiftly nodded my head. 

Teeth broke through my father's gaze, and he playfully reached out and ruffled my hair. "That's my boy," he laughed as he rose to his feet. "Now, what do you say; we get you a humungous ice-cream sundae for being so brave," he smiled. 

"Yes, yes, yes," I cried.

My father laughed, and the two of us walked hand in hand out of the playground.

"Ethan, do you understand what I'm saying? Ethan? Are you listening, Ethan? Ethan-"

I blinked back into the present and found myself staring into the slightly impatient eyes of Gina, my weekly therapist. 

Clearing my throat to collect myself, I shuffled a little in my seat. "Erm...yes...I, I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I stammered out.

She jokingly rolled her eyes at me. "I was asking you how the relationships in your life are going? You were telling me just last week that you've made a lot of progress with Mia, and that's amazing, Ethan!" 

She laughed. "I still remember you telling me all those years ago how you kicked that ball at her face and-"

"I'm sorry, I have to go," I said abruptly as I rose to my feet. Talk about Mia, had my heart hammering away in fear, and I had to get away.