Rooter (#Wattys2015)

Feelings & Accusations

"You think you're a man?" Rooter growls.

Mike whimpers in response.

"Real men don't abuse women!" Rooter snarls. "If you ever so much as raise your voice to either of these girls, I will hit you so fucking hard you'll dribble for the rest of your life!"

Rooter yanks Mike up to his feet, but keeps a hold of his hands. I stand silently in shock. I've never seen or heard anything so menacing in my life. Or sexy. I shouldn't be turned on right now, but I totally am. We lock eyes for a few seconds. Miranda continues to scream.

"Quiet." Rooter tells her. "Apologize to them," he orders Mike.

"I'm sorry," Mike says.

"Be specific," Rooter insists.

Mike looks at Miranda. "I'm sorry I hit you." Then he looks at me. "And I'm sorry for being a dick to you all the time."

"Tell them it won't happen again," Rooter demands.

"I promise it won't happen again."

Rooter lets go and Mike rushes over to Miranda. Rooter looks at me.

"You make sure to let me know if he pulls anymore shit on either of you."

I nod. He nods in acceptance and turns and leaves without another word.

I am breathless.

Mike runs up the stairs and slams his bedroom door. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Miranda looks at me and asks, "What the hell was that?"

"I have no idea," I lie.

Miranda runs upstairs after Mike. I hear Rooter's motorcycle roar to life followed by him speeding away. After several minutes of pounding on Mike's door, begging him to open up and talk to her, Miranda gives up and comes back downstairs and sits next to me on the sofa. "He really is sorry, Soph. It's all he talked about on the way home."

I look at her. Miranda is hands down, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She has an exotic look to her which most blonde's lack. Her face is heart shaped with flawless tan skin, a button nose and full, pouty lips. The exact opposite of me, she's short. Petite, yet curvaceous in all the right places. She has a bust women envy and men drool over. I call her the "short Jessica Rabbit." Her brown eyes are pleading with me to forgive Mike. Most of the time, her puppy dog look wins me over, but not this time.

Miranda constantly defends Mike and I can't understand why. I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when it first started. His parent's had both just died unexpectedly, I'd rejected him when he told me he was in love with me. But at 23 he is a grown man who should know right from wrong and be willing to take responsibility for his actions and for his life. My life hasn't been a cake walk. In my opinion, his problems don't even compare to mine, but I don't treat people like shit or attack them. What makes it worse is most of the time he seems to feel justified in his actions.

"I don't care." I don't say it to be mean or to piss her off. I'm just unwilling to lie.

"That's a messed up thing to say."

"Maybe it is, but it's honest. How many times are you going to allow him to lash out and get off with a simple apology?"

The afternoon sun leaks into the house illuminating dust on the old hardwood floors. I want to remind Miranda it's her turn to clean them, but now isn't the time.

"As many times as I have to, he's my brother."

I shake my head in exasperation. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?" I ask. The right side of her mouth is swollen and bruised. "I won't allow him to do that to me and get away with it."