Saviors (Completed)

7. Fight, Fight, Fight

"You saw that," he said sternly, kneeling down to look into my eyes. I looked into the eyes with the glimmering color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the shining sun. They played tricks with my mind and screamed 'spring'.

I gulped, they still shut fire and my skin tickled from his gaze. "Are you afraid of me?" 

"No." 

I had never been afraid of him actually, I had been afraid of what he could do, not him. 

"I am afraid of what you can do." I took in a deep breath. "Of what you chose to do," I breathed out, sinking my eyes.  

He laid a cold, not blood filled, finger under my chin and slowly lifted it up, so our eyes could meet fully. We were alone in the world and all the warnings my dad, mother and even Tony had given disappeared as he flashed me a smile there reached his beautiful eyes. 

"You should be, Missy, you should be afraid, but still-" He shook his head, ending the sentence without thinking much about my addiction to hear the rest. "You are really different, Watson. My mother is worried about you, you know. I wish I could tell her that you are okay, however, we both know that's not the case." 

My teeth clenched, but I stayed in my position bowed down and leaning on my noodle knees. "What do you mean?" I finally asked, sounding more desperate than intended. "I'm fine." There came the lie again. 

"I can help you, Watson. No, I want to help you. Please let me," he begged, smiling innocently, however, I knew what laid beneath. No matter how sweet he became, he can't change his nature. No matter how long you use a rifle as a walking stick, you can't change its nature either. 

"I don't need your help." I stood up, glancing down at him one last time before running to my house only a little away. 

"Watson," he yelled after me, but I didn't look over my shoulder or hesitated. Not even when I reached my front door and walked in on my father swinging down another bottle of beer. 

As I reached my bed, I swung my tired body down on the hard mattress and closed my heavy eyes. 

Why had he punched that guy? Why did he say those things? Why am I so different?

I am not the one who was different, he was. He thought he could save the world. He even thought he could help me. What an idiot. He was good a playing with girls and breaking their hearts and nothing more. 

The fire in his eyes still amazed me somewhere deep down. What he had done was terrible, but for the first time, he had a reason, not that it makes it better, but it makes me think.

I looked at my hands. My small hands there had been through so much. Cuts and hard work every day and night. Did he have to be involved in this?

"Child!" my father yelled from downstairs, causing me to frown. "Your mother is here to talk to you. Don't keep her waiting!" 

My eyes widened and my legs shut out of my bed. Mom? I ran through the house and down in the living room where she sat with crossed legs and straight back. She not as much as glanced over at Father who drank another beer and mumbled for himself. 

"Mother, you wanted to talk," I said and entered the room, sitting down in a dusty chair beside her. 

My mother shook her shoulders and turned her face towards me. She had once been a marvelous woman, but know her flat, dirty blonde hair had started turning gray. Bags only got bigger under her narrow green eyes and her full red lips turned downwards in any given moment. Rinkles circled around her eyes and mouth, even on her forehead they were as clear as the sun. 

She tried to smile, but it just ended in her mouth twisting into something there looked like a wicked cry. 

"Mrs. Martinez asked about you today. Can you tell me what that was about?" she said, with a lifted eyebrow and straight face. I glanced over at my father, who hadn't heard a word, he just swung another bottle. 

"I just helped them in the grocery store. I swear." My body stood up, taking several steps back. "I swear." 

My mother followed me up. "Don't lie to me. I told you to stay away from that family filled with filthy thieves!" she roared, pointing her finger at me. She took a step closer to me, towered over my small frame, ripping the fear up in me. "Don't you understand? I'm just doing what is best for you." 

"I'm sorry," I croaked, glancing around the room for an exit, but I was too close to the wall to run now. She would soon punch me with her words and there was nothing I could do about it. 

"Sorry won't change time. You did the opposite of what your father and I told you. We are just protecting you." She held a long silent pause. "I love you, Nina." 

Those three words sounded like a lie more than anything else. If she loved me she wouldn't let my father do what he does. She wouldn't bury herself in papers and she definitely wouldn't have given up on my brother that easy. 

"What do you have against the Martinez, they are good people," I yelled, instantly regretting it. It was a bad idea to stick up against my parents. 

My mothers face turned pale as her arm slowly fell down along her body again. "What we have against the Martinez?" she repeated, talking slower than I did. Her mouth stayed opened and soon her brain began working again. "Everything! Things you're too young to understand." 

She turned around, letting me stare at her back. "Go. Go to that weird place you work and come back when you can be a good kid," she said, pointing at the door. "I don't want you in my house." It was only a whisper, but it was a knife to my heart.

I hated my mother, but normally she was never like this. She never cared about anything else than her work, but here she stood and threw me out, while my father just purred down another bottle. It was Hell in its purest form. 

As my tears stained my cheeks, I rushed out of the door and out in the free. I ran with tears streaming freely. I ran the whole way to Green Diner without stopping, even when my legs were begging for me to stop. 

I pushed the door opened and cursed over the irritating bell. A few guest looked up but ignored me in an instant. Mrs. Green sang as she purred tea to a guest. She caught my eyes and almost dropped her tea pot. 

"Nina! What happened?" she asked, rushing over to me, with burning hot tea in her right hand. 

"Can I stay with you for a while?" I asked, my voice low and shaking more than my sore legs. 

"Of course. Go out in the back, I will be there in a minute," she assured me and glanced around her shop. I nodded and swayed my tears away. Before she could say another word, I walked away from her and into the room behind the Diner. 

The office was painted brown, however, you could skimp the yellow tones beneath. It only had one ceiling-to-floor window facing the main road on the other side of the Diner. On the pitch black desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying closed with a pen crossed over it. A stack of papers laid on the other side of the computer. In the corner, the air conditioner was blasting on low and there was a thick, brown leather chair sitting behind the dark desk. A few pens had fallen down on the ground, together with a thin, book about money. 

I sat on the couch, pushing my shoulders up to my ear and keeping my hands folded in front of my chest. I closed my eyes, resting my mouth against my fists. A lock hair fell and covered half my face. 

What should I tell Mrs. Green?

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