Atrox

Page 1

Okay, I know that I'm small. I spent all four high school years being told that the middle school girls bathroom was in another building. Or asked if I was meeting my high school boyfriend in the bathroom. First, I had been a senior, and second, I'm a guy. I always thought the no boobs thing should be the most obvious clue but guys just assumed I was a prepubescent girl. I was into my second year of college now, was getting ready to turn twenty two, and I was having problems at the college. The same problems, and then some, I've always had. My father, CEO and co-founder of a manufacturing plant had decided that he was hiring me a body guard. I'd come home a week ago with a black eye, busted nose, and split lip. Why they always had to hit the face I didn't know. My nose had been broken so many times it had a permanent little dip in it. I'd gotten on the wrong side of a jock when my iced coffee was spilled all over the front of him. 

He hadn't been looking where he was going and turned right into me as I started to pass him. It wasn't my fault but he got pissed and found me later. With what I was sure was 'roid-rage he took it out on me. On the way home I sent an anonymous email to the ethics board of the college that they might want to test all their jocks for steroids. Even if he wasn't on them it would make everyone of them have to stand peeing in a cup while a coach, faculty or guard watched. Sly but satisfying revenge. I was healing fine but every time my father saw me he asked if I was doing okay. I never doubted that my father loved me. I wasn't a big strapping man like my older brother but he loved me just as much though in a different way. My brother was the chip off the ol' block. I looked just like my mother who had died when I was seven. Dad was proud of me as his son but cherished the part of me that kept a bit of the love of his life in the world.

I'd just gotten home, called into the living room and introduced to another big hulking man. This one didn't seem any wider then my father. His suit pulled just a little in certain places that told me that it was well tailored but his body was muscled enough to make it stretch anyway. The stretch also showed that he wore a shoulder holster under his left arm. Charlie Walker was about six three. A foot taller then my five foot three. Had chocolate brown hair, honey colored eyes and a goatee framing a very sexy smile.

"My son, Devon Henley." My father says.

"I prefer to be called Dev. Every time someone calls me Devon I jump to 'oh shit why am I in trouble.'" He and dad both laugh with me. That was good.

"Have a seat Dev. Sandy is going to bring us a light lunch." I nod and sit in my normal chair which was the chair that faced perpendicular to my fathers. My new body guard was sitting on the sofa that faced my chair. I pretended not to notice the way he looked me over, slowly, from toes to top. All men, even straight ones tended to give me the once over, I didn't care most of the time. I was gay so a guy giving me that look and flirting was a good thing. But I learned early in life that straight guys, when they realize they are smiling at a guy and not a girl get pissy. So I'm very careful with them. The way he looked had calculation heavy in the air. I was sure he was judging and thinking of all the ways in which he could protect me from a myriad of threats. 

Sandy, our server from the kitchen, a middle aged Latina woman who pinched my cheeks and babied me came in the room with a large tray of food. Plenty of fruit to pick from. Three kinds of sandwiches, and individual bowls of plain chips. From her pocket she snuck me my guilty pleasure and go-to snack when I was stressed or depressed, a peanut butter cup. Dad rolled his eyes when he noticed but said nothing. He knew that no amount of telling her no, would make her stop giving them to me. He wanted all meals for everyone to be perfectly healthy diets. Sneaking me my peanut butter cups was not in the diet. It was because she'd known me since she met me five days after my mother died and my father needed one more hand to help out. I was instantly her little mijo and could do no wrong.