James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book One

Three

"James Everett Knight," my dad greeted me with a scowl as I entered the house. It was pure luck—I wasn't using my abilities.

My father appeared worn out, dressed in his police uniform, with heavy bags under his tired eyes. His golden hair was messy, and he sported stubble on his chin. He seemed like a mess. Sitting in the oversized chair in the corner, he sat while Sam and Derek rested on the couch, their eyes fixed on me as I dropped my backpack and entered the living room.

"What?" My voice cracked as if I were still going through puberty. Leaning against the side of the couch, I watched my dad shoot me that familiar look of parental anger.

"You know damn well what, James? You always get into more trouble than I can clean up..." my father retorted, sinking into the chair, his head in his hands. He had every reason to be angry.

"Dad, you don't know what happened," I snapped, although deep down, I knew he probably did. I leaned further into the couch, wishing my father could understand the emotional pain inflicted by Mark's relentless bullying.

"James!" He admonished me. Sam and Derek shifted on the couch as I maneuvered between them and settled into the middle.

"Dad!" I yelled in the same tone. I bit my tongue for the sake of restraint. He was my father, and I deserved this, so I kept my anger bottled up. As our gazes locked, I observed the tension building in his jaw. Just then, Derek intervened, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"I think he's right, James," Derek interjected, siding with Dad's words instead of mine—a son for a father, a cop for a cop. Derek was the peacemaker in the family, but he took sides now and then.

"Of course, Dad is right," I muttered. "He's always right." I chuckled in annoyance, gripping my phone so tightly that the screen shattered further beneath my clenched fist.

Both Sam's and Derek's eyes widened. Before my father could notice, they quietly struggled to pry the phone from my grasp. I let go, realizing I had yet to return its contents to my laptop in months.

"When does your shift start?" Sam diverted my father's attention while Derek discreetly tucked my phone deep within the couch cushion, giving me a stern look.

"It started ten minutes ago." My father's gaze drifted. It wasn't surprising, considering our family's habit of being late for work.

Derek adjusted his gun holster and mouthed, "You owe me," as my father changed his utility belt. I pulled my hood over my shoulders, but Derek swiftly pulled it back before my father saw me.

My father grumbled incoherently, fixing his badge on his shoulder. "I don't want to hear about you fighting again, especially with Mark Reignson." He hurriedly headed towards the door to begin his patrol for the night.

"Derek, I don't owe you anything. I already do plenty," I mumbled, rummaging through the couch for my phone. However, two pairs of eyes gleamed at me from different angles.

"What do you guys want from me?" I snarled. Sam and Derek liked to act tough around me, but they knew my strength and powers unnerved them.

"Maybe I should train you better to learn how to control this. Can I test you in the laboratory, James?" Sam asked.

After leaving his government position, Sam set up a laboratory in our basement. He kept his work hidden from my father and the public to ensure it remained undisclosed, and any new experiments he conducted were kept confidential between Derek, himself, and me.

"I need to get to work. Keep your cool and avoid breaking something other than your phone." Derek walked away, patting my back as he headed towards the door.