Dean's Life

Tested

Dean's pov

"I'm not afraid of you," Alex retorted.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me," I responded calmly, surprising even myself.

"Good, cuz I'm not," he stated, with a bit less certainty in his voice now.

"I want you to be afraid of disobeying me." I unbuckled my belt without ever breaking eye contact with the boy.

"Wh_what are y_you do_doing?" he stammers, now appropriately frightened.

"I'm gonna teach you why it's a good idea to listen when I tell you not to do something." I seamlessly stripped the belt from around my waist and folded it over in my hand.

"You're crazy. You know that?" he asks, finding some newfound, albeit wildly inappropriate, confidence. "You can't touch me."

I shook my head and scoffed. This kid's got stones. Rubbing my chin, I looked him in the eyes, ready to stare him down. He's not gonna win this fight, despite what he might believe.

"I told you not to leave this house." I took a step closer to him. "But, you did it anyway."

"I don't have to listen to you. You're not my dad so just back the fuck off, old man."

"You're right, I'm not your father." Not yet anyway, I thought to myself as I absentmindedly reached down to run my thumb over the ring box in my pocket. I find myself carrying Amy's engagement ring around with me practically 24/7, just waiting for the right moment to arise to pop the question. I love her so much, it's just a matter of time before I make her mine, officially speaking. First, I have to deal with her obnoxious oldest son. "You're wrong, however, about not having to listen to me. Your mother left me in charge of you and your little brother while she's at her conference and that means what I say goes. Understand?" I gave Alex a hard look, indicating I meant business. I'm not fuckin' around here.

"You're delusional. You understand that?" he retorted snottily, with a hefty dose of attitude.

I shook my head in disbelief and chuckled. This kid really is a piece of work. Not having a father figure in his life has really messed with his head. Katie would never dream of speaking to me that way and if she ever did, she wouldn't sit for a week. I sure as Hell never would have spoken to my father like that if I wanted to keep on livin'. John would've decked me flat, without hesitation.

I used to think my dad was just an impossible-to-please-hard-ass who took great delight in bossing his kids around, but now I know why he did it. More importantly, I realize it was necessary, not just a way to get his jollies. I could be a real shit when I was a teenager, much like my soon-to-be step-son standing in front of me right now. I thought I knew everything, had it all figured out. Certainly didn't need anyone pushing me around or telling me what to do. I was untouchable, invincible, had the whole world at my fingertips.

Looking at Alex, I shook my head and sighed. Fuck was I stupid, I thought to myself, chuckling derisively. But I learned and this kid will too and as the closest thing he's got to a father in his life now, it's my job to teach him and lead him down the right path, or at the very least, whip his ass when he takes a wrong turn and point him back in the proper direction. Is there a better way though? A way to impart wisdom to a belligerent little shit of a teenager without the aid of an unyielding, unforgiving strip of leather?

I always hated my dad after he whipped me with his belt, but John always said it wasn't his job as my father to be liked, it was his job to raise me right and I like to think he did that. I'm a decent, God-fearing productive member of society, most of the time anyway. I might not have liked my father much when I was growing up, but I respected him nonetheless, or maybe I just feared him. The line is blurry when you're young, especially through the tears brought on by an anger fueled ass beating. There's gotta be a better way.