The Protector
1019 Words
Gabriel's POV
The mansion felt like a beautiful tomb. I was propped up against about five silk pillows that cost more than my tuition, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the way my ribs throbbed every time I took a breath.
The new glasses Derek had bought me sat heavy on the bridge of my nose, too clear, too sharp. I could see every expensive detail of this room, and I hated it.
The door burst open, and for a second, I panicked, thinking it was Derek coming back to mess with my head.
"Gabe! Oh my god, look at this place!"
It was Erica. She came flying in like a whirlwind of cheap perfume and denim, followed by Mike, who looked like he was afraid to step on the rug.
"Guys," I breathed, a small smile tugging at my mouth. "You are actually here."
"Of course we are here, you i***t," Mike said, bumping my foot through the duvet. "We heard you fell in a pool or something? Bro, you gotta stop trying to be athletic, it’s not your brand."
Erica wasn't even listening. She was spinning around, touching the mahogany dresser, her eyes wide. "Gabriel, seriously? This is your life now? This place is insane. It’s like a movie. Your mom really hit the jackpot with this Miller guy."
I felt a sharp twinge in my chest that had nothing to do with the water I had inhaled.
"Yeah. Lucky us."
Erica flopped onto the edge of my bed, her face suddenly getting serious, though she was still vibrating with excitement.
"Okay, but let’s talk about the real prize. Derek. Gabriel, I have been stalking his i********: for like a year. He is even hotter in person. Tell me everything. Is he single? Can you, like, hook a girl up?"
I stared at her, my mouth falling open. "Erica, are you serious?"
"What? He is literally the most eligible bachelor in the city!"
"He is a douchebag," I said, the words coming out flat and hard. My chest ached as I spoke, a dull, bruising reminder of his hands slamming into my sternum.
"He is not a dream, Erica. He is a nightmare. He’s mean, he’s arrogant, and he treats people like... like things."
"Oh, please," she scoffed, waving a hand. "That’s just the bad boy vibe. All rich guys are like that. Just give me his number, Gabe. Don't be a hater."
Before I could respond, the door clicked open again. My mother walked in, her heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood. She was holding a tray with tea, but the look on her face was anything but motherly. She stopped dead when she saw Mike and Erica.
"Oh," she said, her voice dropping into that cold, tone that always made me want to shrink. "I didn't realize you had... company."
She walked over, setting the tray down with a deliberate clink. Her eyes traveled over Mike’s wrinkled t-shirt and Erica’s messy bun.
"I am surprised," she murmured, looking at me. "I didn't know decent people still agreed to be your friends, Gabriel. I thought you would have scared everyone off with your... gloominess by now."
The room went dead silent. Mike looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue. Erica’s jaw dropped.
"Who’s she to you?" Erica whispered, leaning toward me. "That was a total d**k move."
"She is my mother," I said, my voice barely a thread. I looked at the tea, not wanting to see the pity on my friends faces.
"Get used to it. She doesn't like me that much. Never has."
My mom just hummed, smoothing her skirt. "Don't be dramatic, Gabriel. I am just saying you should pick better associates if you want to fit into this family."
"He fits in just fine."
The voice came from the doorway. Derek was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't wearing a suit, just a black t-shirt that showed off the muscles in his arms and the bruised, raw skin on his knuckles.
Erica gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She looked like she was about to faint.
Derek didn't even look at her. His eyes were locked on me, scanning my face like he was checking for cracks.
"The visit is over," Derek said. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command that took up all the air in the room. "Gabriel needs to rest. Out. All of you."
"Derek, honey, I was just..." my mom started, her voice suddenly sweet and submissive.
"You too, Sarah," he snapped, not even glancing at her.
My mom stiffened, her face turning a blotchy red, but she didn't argue. she scurried out of the room without another word. Mike stood up quickly, nodding at me.
"Uh, yeah. We should... we should go. Feel better, Gabe."
But Erica didn't move. She stood up, her face flushed, looking Derek right in the eye. I wanted to scream at her to stop. She didn't know him well at all.
"That’s a little rude, don't you think?" Erica said, her voice trembling but defiant. "We just got here. We are his friends."
I felt my heart hammer against my ribs. "Erica, just... just go. It’s fine."
"No, it's not fine!" Erica snapped at me, then turned back to Derek. "I have heard rumors about you, but are you really this much of a jerk to everyone? He almost died, and you are acting like he is your prisoner."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Derek straightened up, stepping away from the doorframe and walking toward her. He was a head taller than her, his presence massive and suffocating.
He stopped inches from her face. He didn't snarl. He didn't yell. He just looked down at her with a stare that made my blood run cold, the look of a hawk deciding whether a sparrow was worth the effort of killing.
"You are in my house," Derek said, his voice a low, terrifying vibration. "Standing on my floor. Breathing my air. And you are bothering my brother."
- Writer
