The girl with no history has a family for the first time.
The boy who always closed himself off learns to open up for the first time.
The brokenhearted is allowed to heal for the first time.
The one who is given anything takes what he wants for the...
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DISCLAIMER: All characters and specific locations are entirely fictional and have been likened to real people for the benefit of the reader. All rights belong to SteelLeaf and QueenieGreen.
Dad always used to say that your back is your blind spot and if someone is chasing you, you turn around to face them, because at least then they'll see your face before they fuck it up, and – as there was no one around when he was gone – Dad made sure that I knew how to watch out for myself. This meant that I was raised to live a life of looking over my shoulder, protecting what I had and covering my own back, rather than relying on some jizzstain who'll throw it all to shit. So he had me working; working for hours each day, whether it be kickboxing, target practice or riding, we were always working and that's who he will always be to me. I'll remember the hours we spent in the gym and in the park, or the thousands of times he told me "again" when I thought I couldn't go on. He'll forever be the man who taught me how to ride a motorcycle, and how to perfectly flick my wrist when throwing knives; never the weepy, blubbering hot mess that he was before I came along, the girl that no one wanted because she was aggressive and rude, who could not be controlled. So he got his shit together to take me in when nobody else would. He gave me a chance that the system didn't, a chance at a normal life.
Well, semi-normal. I mean, how many nineteen year olds are there that can ride down the freeway on a V-Rod, weaving in and out of traffic at ninety miles per hour, with a hand steady enough to shoot a Glock 22 straight?
But today, for the first time, we fought. Shouting and cursing at each other, slamming doors and pulling them open again to yell another profanity. It was so unfamiliar and so strange, the raw aggression building up between us made me feel like a completely different person, someone who hated the world. He was angry at me. I hadn't told him about Chicago and now he didn't think that it was the best thing for me, because he still thinks I'm the helpless kid that could be pulled into an alley, mugged and killed. Taken from him just like Julian was. But he's wrong; doesn't he understand that I won't let that happen? Doesn't he get that I can take care of myself? I can live on my own, I don't need anyone, but...I hated the idea of leaving him. I didn't want to be miles away from Dad, I didn't want to abandon him, leave him stranded. He may need me to watch his back, be his eyes and ears, his number two.
