If I Were Yours

Ch. 2 Bodyguard

M.C's POV

1 hour earlier

"Yeah yeah." I hiss through clenched teeth answering his previous question, withstanding the beats my brother gave me on the arm for not listening to his direct and hard to follow orders. Also for talking back at the moment before this one, and the fact that I was an easy target to pick on.

The last punch was given with a single blow of his fist, a deep-throated growl escaping my lips, and him moving away with a smirk on his.

I wince, looking over at the bruises that were scattered across the entirety of my arm, deep purple and light blue, hurtful to the touch. "Jesus Christmas Swift." I hiss again, not being able to bring myself to swear like everyone else did, looking over at my older brother who stood a few steps away.

His smile was disgustingly pleased with his success in punishments and all. Like he always was. Proud of his beats and bruises.

"Did I do good?" He asks me playfully, walking over to my side again, after I'd calmed down a little of course, but smiling all the same. He laughed lifting my chin up gently, placing a pecked kiss on my cheek with a dark glare in his eyes.

Yeah, I know it's weird but Swift was the more brotherly love type of person since no girl liked/loved him.

My eyes dodge left and right before I can look at him straight through his pupils, like a good little dog I was, obeying his command. "Yes sir. Of course you did good sir." I answer with a small voice, and just to have him laugh and kiss me on the cheek again. Like, every day.

My heart speeds up a little, not because I liked this, but just because of the opposite for which I just mentioned. Because I hated it. It made me pissed when he hurt people and then put a kiss on them, like it would make everything better. Like is my big word. Kind of like a band-aid was supposed to do. Which it never did.

"I know I did." He says gingerly after I didn't answer, looking at me in a loving manner, hoping I would share it back. It wasn't working for me today though. Not one bit. Not at all. Because it's not that I didn't like him, I did, but he could be hated by me so badly sometimes.

His smile falters for a split second, before his eyes turn cold. "Well. We have things to be doing anyways. Other things than just standing around here for no apparent reason and chit chatting." His voice was rough with sadness, and miserablility and I knew he was turning depressed now. Right at this moment. And it made me feel horrible. Like I always felt.

"We have to go and work for the second old rat today. And then we have to go and nestle up to some spoiled brats that are his sons, and then protect them while they stay at a party." He laughed out, trying to look better than he felt. Which he didn't.

I look over at Ghost, his eyes the color of blood and his mouth hidden by his turtlenecked jacket that he wore all the time, even in the summer. No emotion whatsoever, like always.

I look at Rebel, the second oldest, who stared at Swift with his emerald green and gold eyes, pain flashing back and forth like a syren in them.

I look at Swift, who seems to have dropped his arms and high energy self. His dark blue eyes scanning us, his brothers, before he turned on his heels and walked out the back door of our hideout, home place.

Good luck to all.

Present time

Our other master (technically the first but we called him the second because our 'father' was the one we had known first) stood in front of us with narrow eyes. Eyes that were not pleased. His voice was soft when he spoke, at first, but harsh by the end.

"These are the four that the other rat gave me to work with? Pathetic." He almost asked himself, looking us up and down with a crack of a smile on his lips. As though we were some kind of joke.

Swift went to speak, but he was rudely interrupted by the old man, a deep throated growl escaping his lips now. "Do not think badly about it of course, what I just said. I was just merely saying that you all are not what I was expecting. You are not bodyguard material if you know what I mean." He added, raising a finger.

Swift looks at me for an answer, but I do not speak, no one does. Not for him. His eyes flicker with a little bit of treaturey, before he turns back to face his opponent.

"Sir. With all do respect. We are perfectly capable of handling a bunch of 18 year old kids who can't handle themselves at a party." He says, clicking his tongue at the end, as if to add emphasis to his sentence a little more than it needed to be.

The rat does not say a thing after my brother had spoken to him. Nothing at all. He just stares for a while before nodding, finally speaking up for himself and his sons in the least bit ticked off. "Yes. Yes. Of course." He says, making a gesture, whistle hitting his own head with the palm of his hand, frankly searching for fake apologies.

"How could I have been so stupid?" He asks to Swift, tapping my brother's face gently with a small paw. "Of course, you can take care of 18 year olds. But no one younger than that. Yes? You are not mature enough yet. Not at all. I knew it." His voice is even with every word he speaks, knowledge flowing through my brain.

"But you must be mistaken with the wrong house then?" The rat continues, putting on a fake thinking face.

Swift's eyes grew wide with confusion and a little more seriousness than before. The sir continued on with his explation. "Here we only have a 16 and a half, 16, 15 and a half and 15 year old children."

The man's eyes swept back and forth between all of us, crinkling with a smirk, as if we were all smoking idiots. Of course I wasn't, Rebel wasn't and Ghost wasn't, but Swift was.

The old rat continues in the most mocking tone he could muster. "Yes. Yes. I knew you all were not right, but very wrong. And that's exactly why I said that you must have been incorrect. You are in the wrong process of houses. Of course. You must have mistaken me for another old rat somewhere near by. I wonder where he might be though?"

I snicker, trying not to burst into a laughing battle with Rebel as he laughs to, holding it in like me of course, and both of us earning a huge death glare from Swift, making him sigh with as much defeat as he felt. He stared at Rebel for a moment, and then back at the rat.

"Sir. I'm sorry for mistaking their ages but this is the right house.... I'm pretty sure of it. Pretty sure...." The rat raises an eye brow and smiles, nodding as if agreeing.

Swift's voice is strangled as he tries to speak what's on his mind, but he still gets a mocking smile from the old man in exchange for his efforts, as if he's failed his real master already. "No, no. I am sure this is the totally wrong house. And I'm sure of it, because other bodyguards will be here shortly. Go now. Leave my property."

The rat laughs, raising his paw with a gentle and swift move, as he continues laughing and turning around as someone appeared from behind him. Who the .... Oh god.... And don't anybody tell me that this was one of the people we were meant to watch?

A swag....

1361 words