Protector of The Prey

sorry, first post was all mixed up and errored in text placement.

ISABELLA



I tried to understand where my father was taking me. We had walked in circles for nearly thirty minutes. It all made no sense to me, past the fact that even though I was no longer in his life, I was still causing him and the rest of my family pain, suffering.


I was losing my control inside, so naturally, it surprised me when I was stumbling through a door and into an uncomfortable chair. The grunts which escaped my fathers mouth we’re full of hate and resentment. I forced my eyes upon him, only to catch the wake of the fire in his eyes.


We’re in an office. As I take in my surroundings, I remember the room. It all comes back to me in a stabbing pain, fully tearing me down, unmistakably broken, back into this setting.


I was only eight years old. Sitting in this very chair, staring at the man that sits behind the desk. His tan skin over powering his white, collared shirt. At the time, his mustache covered most of his mouth. He welcomed us, watching me closely.


“I don’t know, sir.” He spoke to my, too eager, father. “Please, just take her off our hands!” My father pleaded, wanting nothing but to gain admission to this private boarding school. He didn’t even try to hide his true feelings for his own daughter.


He begged and pleaded that day for a way for me to go to this school. It had worked, and now he’s throwing all that away, just to save some money. It was surprising to me, to know he would even consider me and option, much less the answer to this crisis.



“Nice to see you again Mr. St. James.” Mr. McHenry is as polite as ever, his smile extended to me. His eyes lock with mine, for longer than I felt necessary. There was something to his expression, as if he was trying to tell me something without saying the words.



I pulled my eyes from him, considering this. “I’m sorry to rush you, Patrick, but we really need to get on the road as soon as possible.” My father is instantly polite. He wants this charade to pass, so he can go back to telling me how I’ve ruined his life, my families life, and how I killed my mother. I flinch at the last thought, picturing my mother.



“Oh, but there’s no need to rush, is there?” Mr. McHenry seems anxious. That’s the only way I know to describe him. He has his hands reached out across his desk; he’s on the edge of his seat. “I’ve actually got something I’d like to discuss with you.”



My eyes flicker from my fathers to his. I feel as if there’s a secret to this story; one I haven’t been able to notice before now, lingering around us. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not worth the time. I’m taking Isabella home.” My fathers voice is stern.



“Full scholarship?” Patrick asks, and this catches my dads attention. I feel the hope throb against my chest. It’s painful, and I try to calm it, knowing there is no use in getting myself hopeful now. What I don't understand is why Mr. McHenry would want to give me a scholarship. “What’s the catch?” My father asks, suddenly curious. I’m sure he would be, if it kept me out of his life.



I glance back to the door and see a pair of eyes looking at me through the glass. It startles me, but I’m so used to fear and surprise it doesn’t make me jump. I recognize the eyes as I focus on the face. It’s Christopher. He waves at me, motioning for me to come out. I look back at Mr. McHenry and his eyes are on me, the same hinting look to his expression.



I open my mouth, wondering if I should ask aloud or keep it a secret from my father. “There is no catch,” Mr. McHenry keeps his eyes on me, as he talks to my father. My eyes stray back to Christopher’s and he motions for me to come to him again. His eyes are pleading, and he looks as if the desire is paining him.



My heart feels as if it has ripped from my chest, near falling to the floor. I look back to Mr. McHenry. “We’ve got the school board gathering together to discuss it. A decision should be made within two hours and..” He begins but my dad is shaking his head. “You’re saying I’d have to wait two hours for something that might not even happen?” He asks, sternly.



“Sir, she has strong odds and a lot of support. I can assure you it would not be turned down.” Mr. McHenry sounds so sure of himself. I look from him, to my father, towards the door where Christopher has vanished. I nearly choke on the realization. “I have to go to the bathroom.” I lie, standing.



My fathers eyes shoot flames in my direction, as I freeze in place. “Oh, that’s alright.” Patrick’s voice is assuring towards my father. “It’ll give us a chance to talk.” I feel the emotions from my father clearly, hatred of course being the top and most powerful. His eyes release me and fall back upon Mr. McHenry.



I regain the feeling in my legs and fight my way out the door. Once I close the door behind me, I see Christopher standing a few feet down the hall, his eyes upon me. If I don’t move now, I believe my knees will lock and I’ll crumble. Still, I cannot force myself to take a step. My arms extend, impulse taking over and suddenly, he’s holding me.



He got to me quicker than my eyes could see and he was leading me down the hallway, half carrying me away from the office. Once we’re safe from view in a room; a workroom with Lisa, he pull me close to him, his arms as tight around me as possible.



I feel as if I’m the prey, needing it’s protector. I let my hands grip onto him, instinct and want, and need and desire all taking over what I would normally think to be right. He holds me close to him, the sound of his heart beat racing and pulsing in my ears. “I promise you,” He breathes his warm breath against my cold, icy skin. “I‘m not letting go.” He whispers in my ear as his lips press softly against my skin.

Author's Note

sorry about having to repost. tell me what you like, hate, what you're curious about... things youd like to see happen. your predictions? tell me it all!