The Protector

V

The stranger growls loudly when she tries to pull her neck away from the shimmering blade scratching deeper into her flesh. Growing frustrated with her anxious wriggling, the pressure increases, his knuckles turning white from the hold. The space between the silver steel and her defined vein is narrowing, she keeps gulping. Every short inhale pushes the two closer. Though tamed, the fear in her glittering eyes triggers something in my brain - something I don't enjoy using.

I barely notice myself twitching from the draining self-control. Any sudden movement will inevitably result in her death, but any actions on their side will result in the four of us flying with fists in the air, no time for hesitation. I may be desperate to snatch her from his arms, but the risk is too great.

Deep breaths to remind myself of what sanity is. Losing control to my anger isn't going to get us out of this predicament, not with such a precious life on the line. I'm the one most likely to snap, so if I can keep it together then the boys will likely follow.

Eyes dancing from each soul to the next, I find them also observing us. The lads have actually forgotten about my existence as if I'm a flea in the depths of the shaggy rug under our bare feet.

Subtle shifts in posture allows stances to prepare carefully. Everything is still, that is until the vermin leader's eyes land on mine. His glare raking up and down my body, assessing the worth of my existence as though he is mimicking me in a morning. Amusement tweaks his features, eyes playfully glazing over. To say I am disgusted with that look isn't even worth my breath.

"What are you? Why are you here?" Bastard. "Like I have anything to say to an egocentric dickhead like you when there's serrated steel buried in my Mother's neck at the convenience of your hand." His yellowish pearls appear as the underside of his mouth twists up his cheek. "I like this one, she's feisty. Try not not to kill her, I want to keep her for myself."

"Come near me, and I'll bite off your limbs one by one until you're a screaming pile of nothing." Spitting through the ridges of my teeth while chuckling causes his tongue to glide over his lips hungrily. I hate to even imagine what is going through his head, but it doesn't take a smart person to meet the correct assumption.

"Back to the matter at hand... You." His head rolls right, to Luke. "You have something of mine."

The rough scratching of his teeth grinding a response is unmissable, "I have nothing of yours."

"I wouldn't try pushing that bullshit right now, Buddy. I'm holding the control, so do as you're told, like a good puppy."

Biting my tongue only does so much. Something that everyone should be aware of about this family, we don't take shit. "God, you are so patronising. He says he has nothing of yours, move along, you pathetic little bitch."

"No one is talking to you, Little Girl." Without looking, I know that boys and Mum are sighing to stop from scoffing. My eyes widen, "Little Girl? You shouldn't have called me that, I'm no pussy unlike the one holding the knife."

My body switches to autopilot. Soles hammering on the ground, I'm inches from being in his face before some dumb boxy bloke blocks me. I assume he is going to punch me as his fist veers backwards but I end up diving first. My hands ball up, crashing into his face until it is a beaten pulp. Blood coats my knuckles in seconds from the force of my hatred filled cold fire.

Nothing in the room dares to breathe, not even the random flies hanging in the corner. Instead, all eyes bulge at the sight of me smashing in some random man's skull until I see the gooey mush of his brain. Not satisfied until I hear the splash of the stored blood running away, I take my time to stand up. Sighing that my frustration has been successfully removed from my system.