Their Guardian

Chapter 14

"Sunshine..."Nicky spoke softly, walking up behind me and putting his hand on my shoulder. 

I simply shrugged it off, not wanting to get my hopes up yet again. "I'm fine, don't ya'll have a flight to catch?"

They both looked at each other, guilt written across their faces. I didn't even blink, already knowing the drill, they would contemplate not going, then after some deliberation decide that it would be the last time they did this. It never was. I have been disappointed way too much in the past year to let this little routine fool me. 

Booker shuffled in the background, already pulling out his phone to look for a bar or pub. Another little routine I have gotten familiar with. He would wait till they were well on their way before disappearing, only to reappear just hours before they would arrive, drunk as a skunk. 

I was left to pick up the pieces of our broken home, waiting for Andy to come back and start fixing this mess. 

"This is the last one. We promise to take you with us next time." Joe said with a smile before pulling me in for a hug.

I returned it, knowing I would not be seeing them for a while. Nicky joined and like all good things, it ended. 

Booker went inside shortly after, leaving me to practice on my own. Two hours later after I had worked through all of my forms multiple times, Joe and Nicky left. Thirty minutes later, Booker did too. 

With them gone I started to pack up my swords and get out my newest toy. Andy bought it for me five years ago, after she claimed I had all but mastered my dual swords. It reminds me of a time when we were a family again. However, I find myself pulling it out more frequently now that she's gone. 

I only practice when the boys are gone, every time they see me with a bow the light in their eyes dims. Now that our time is numbered, I don't want to scare them off when they are actually around. 

I let my hand brush along the ancient wood, drinking in the familiarity of it all. It was an older reflex bow, almost impossible to find nowadays. I knew it was important to Andy in some way, so It's safe to say that I kind of obsessed over keeping it in perfect condition. That was something the boys used to tease me relentlessly about, despite the obvious appreciation for the respect I had for it. The bow had become an extension of myself, and I was also extremely skilled with it, able to hit a moving target at almost a hundred yards. 

I pulled out the human shaped targets, knowing that this was going to be far too easy for me. 

I pulled back the bow and forced myself to breath. The arrow landed right between the eyes. 

Next target. Same result. 

I moved along the line hitting each with unyielding accuracy, allowing my emotions to control my movements. 

I started on the line again, each arrow sinking into the exact middle. 

I was angry, angry that they left me yet again. 

Another target hit. 

Angry that the people I saw myself spending eternity beside, were allowing themselves to give up, to quit. 

Another arrow sunk violently into the wood. 

Andy left. Booker gave up. Joe and Nicky are ignoring the problems that are right in front of them. I had worked to keep this group together and happy for forty years and they just threw it away. 

I ran out of arrows. I dropped my bow to the ground and begun reaching for the throwing knives I kept on my belt. I started with an intense fire. 

Why am I always the solider left behind? Why can't I let myself be selfish without being childish? Why can't I be put first?