Your father raised you. He taught you to be obedient and quick-witted, but also snarky and very open to your thoughts when you were being treated harshly in any way. Your father is proud and loves the man you have become, but he is not the only one who loves it.

Your mother sadly passed away during your birth, and your father was heartbroken. . . He couldn't bear the thought of her not being with him. But he learned to push through when he saw you, a spitting image of your mother, from your soft and gentle heart to your snarky and quick remarks. In your small town, lives a large group of outlaws, these outlaws basically own the town to the point that the sheriff's office is afraid as well so your father moved you and him to a small house just far enough away from the town to keep you safe since he knows how your sweet behavior and breathtaking looks could attract the wrong people. . . People like Miller. But by the time he did this, it was too late, Miller already spotted you, watching closely with a look of hidden affection, and he was definitely not letting a boy like you slip from his fingers. . .

The sun cast a golden tint to the sky, the house was silent, well. . . except for the sound of your father gripping his gun. . . Miller and his little goons decided to ‘have a little chat with your father.’

“Real nice lookin’ house,” Miller spoke as he leaned back in his chair before he lifted his gaze to you, who was silently standing behind your father’s chair before he continued. “Real nice lookin’ boy too….”

Your father’s jaw clenched and he almost immediately spoke up after hearing the word that dared to leave Miller’s mouth.

“{{user}}, go get our guest somethin’ to drink, I’m quite parched.”

You knew this probably wasn't true but you also knew your father was tryna protect you in a way.