Chapter 13

I knocked on the door of the Miller’s house at Six the next morning, and was quickly greeted by Michael, one of our men who got the first assignment to watch their house.

“Morning, Tim!” he greeted me, as he stepped to the side to let me pass.

“Morning, Michael! Living the life, I see?” I greeted him back after noting the dark circles under his eyes.

“Your sister’s evil, man.”

“I might have a court hearing sometime soon you could attest in.” I said. “What happened?”

“The Cheerleaders had a sleepover. And they had a lot of fun teasing me.” he explained carefully, eyeing my reaction.

“If that’s your way of feeling me out, to know if you’re allowed to tap that ... I really don’t care. She’s old enough to make her own bad decisions.” I answered dryly, noting that she probably didn’t know about Danielle’s coaching session, yet, if she spent the night here. When we reached the living room, I could see Mia, Ava and Joan sitting at the dining table, having their breakfast while watching us. “When’s your replacement due?”

“Eight, when they start the installations. Big hardware is supposed to arrive at around ten.”

“Well, at least you’re almost done.”

“Oh! Is that the phone trap Bill said you’d put together?” he asked, pointing at the box I was holding.

“Yeah. Though it needs some power to work...” I said as I looked around the patio door for an outlet to plug my improvised contraption into. “Listen, tell the others, if they bring any mobile devices other than the company ones, they have to make sure their WiFi is turned on for a few minutes, so this thing can log their phones ahead of time, alright?”

“Will do, Poindexter!” he answered, as he pulled out his own phone to turn on the WiFi. I heard a female voice from behind me, turned around, and my eyes grew wide.

“Good morning, Mr. Brown.”

I saw Nora Miller, standing surprisingly close to me in a belly-free yoga outfit that seemed to be painted onto her body. I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering over her figure for a second, before blinking at her while trying hard to maintain eye contact and remember how speech worked.

This was disturbing for me. I’ve seen Ava’s much younger Cheerleader friends parade around the house in barely any clothing at all, especially after they spent time in the hot tub, but I never had any problem with that. No wandering eyes, no desire to stalk them, and certainly no involuntary erections. Probably because they all had such unlikable personalities, even in my imagination they kept bitching while having sex. This woman, however, looked like she just manifested out of someone’s wet dream, while most of her body was covered up.

“Are you looking for something?” she asked with a knowing smirk on her lips, causing me to catch myself.

“Eh ... is ... uh ... is there a ... power outlet somewhere near the patio door?” I asked, holding up the semi transparent box like an idiot, as if she could have any way of knowing what it was for.

“Sure! Right ... here.” she said, as she walked past me and bent down at her waist to move a curtain out of the way, showing me her outlet. The smirk on her lips was now broadcasting her amusement when she looked over her shoulder.

“Dude! Stop drooling over my Mother!” I heard Mia protest from the kitchen.

I looked her dead in the eyes, contemplating my options, but chose not to care.

“No.”

Snorting after seeing Mia’s reaction to my brazen answer right in front of her mother, I thanked Mrs. Miller, plugged the power cord in, and hooked the box to the wall with some adhesive picture strips. I pulled out my phone and waited for the router to finish its start-up routine.

“So, what is this?” Mrs. Miller asked.

“It’s a trap for phones I put together last night. Just to make sure we covered every angle to get admissible evidence. If it’s not in the way, Just let it hang behind the curtain and it’ll do its thing.”

“My, you build that? Sounds enthralling! What does it do?” she asked, moving close to me to look at my phone screen like it was the most natural thing.

“Well, since we’ll install special rolling shutters on the outside of your windows and doors...” I stopped, seeing her eyes go wide upon the prospect of having her house blemished. Apparently, her husband had not taken the time to fill her in on what they had discussed while she sat next to me on the sofa. I quickly opened the patio door and stepped outside to elaborate. “Don’t worry, they’re barely noticeable when rolled in, and still blend in when rolled out. But they take a long time to get through, even if someone used power tools. They would glue up the sawblades and drill bits, and render them useless after they made even the tiniest progress.”

“Okay ... and what does that have to do with that box?”

“Well, while the rolling shutters ensure that nobody will simply waltz in without you noticing and giving you more than enough time to call the police, it will also take our guys a few seconds before they can run out to catch the wannabe intruder. He could run before they reached him, and the cameras could only record some guy wearing a mask.”

“Oh!” she gasped.

“Now, if that worst case scenario happens, that box I just installed would document any mobile device he might be carrying, giving us proof he was on your property. At the very least it would be enough to send the police after him.”

While I was talking to her, we were walking back and forth around her house, so I could make sure the transmission power was set just right. I also had received quite a few push-notifications about the connected phones already and blocked their MAC addresses, so they would connect with their secured WiFi network again. When we turned to walk back into her house, she spoke again.

“I have to admit, it is quite reassuring how much thought you people put into this. And I want to thank you for driving Mia around. Please know, we had a talk with her last night about how she ... addressed you yesterday. It should not happen again.” she nodded to emphasize the last part.

“Oh. Thank you. But please don’t worry, Mrs. Miller. I’m not the resentful type. I got over it years ago.” I lied with a smile, hoping she’d know I wouldn’t screw around on the job just because her children were assholes. Not that I would ever say that to a client’s face.

“Please, call me Nora. If I understand it right, we’re going to see a lot of each other over the next few weeks.” she said, linking arms with my right to let me lead her back into the house, and giving me a rather captivating smile that I wasn’t absolutely sure how to place. “I hope it’s not too much trouble to drive here in the mornings?”

“No, I live barely fifteen minutes away from here. But...” I said, as we just reentered her home and I raised my voice to alert Mia, Ava and Joan. “ ... we’ll need about half an hour to reach the school from here, and it’s almost seven. So, if the Ladies could speed it up a little...?”

Nora and Michael grinned upon hearing the teenage girls’ collectively groan.

“You’re my chauffeur! Shouldn’t you obediently wait ‘till we’re ready!?” Mia asked, causing her mother to attempt intervening, but I was quicker.

“Let’s make this clear from the start, Mia. I’m not your chauffeur. Your parents pay us to keep you safe. So, while I will drive you wherever you want, whenever you want, I’ll have to keep an eye on you and your surroundings once we arrive. I’m not going to just vanish to run errands for you. And if I see Campbell anywhere near you, I will literally carry you away if I have to, and lock you in the armored car so he can’t reach you. No matter whether you like that or not.”

She looked at me in shock, her mouth wide open, not believing the way I had just talked to her. But when I glanced at her mother, Nora seemed pleased with the way I would keep her daughter safe.

“You will literally carry her around? Sounds like you’re a very dedicated bodyguard.” Joan giggled, which caused me to address Mia directly.

“Before you start channeling your inner Whitney Houston, I will SO not catch a bullet for you!” I riposted, causing Nora to actually let out a hearty laugh while I moved back outside to enjoy a cigarette with Michael by the car. Another ten minutes later, they finally came outside and Michael went back into the house.

“Shotgun!” Joan screamed and ran for the front passenger door, while the other two sat in the back.

“Holy!” Mia grunted, having trouble closing the heavy door. “How am I supposed to close the door!?”

“Look at the middle console between you two. See the two buttons on the bottom? The bottom-left one opens and closes the door on the left.” She pressed the button and the door closed automatically.

The first five minutes of the drive were weird. While Joan kept gushing over the car, Ava and Mia just kept quietly looking out the windows, but Mia had her arms crossed in front of her chest and let out a little ‘Hmpf!’ every once in a while, like she was having an argument in her head.

“Don’t get any ideas, Tiny!” Mia suddenly announced out of the blue. “There is no way in hell I’d ever fall for someone like you!”

And then she went back to angrily staring out the window. Joan broke out in loud laughter, while I was left in stunned confusion for a while.

“What the fuck was that about!?” I asked after turning my head to Joan without taking my eyes off the road.

“Just before we came outside, her Mom explained the movie reference you made.” she said, still trying to control her laughter.

I actually had to think about that. I had made that reference because of the movie ‘Bodyguard’, but I hadn’t even realized it also started with some guy protecting an unwilling and priggish woman that eventually fell in love with him. I was even more intrigued with Nora now, if she really thought I was making that kind of insinuation towards her daughter and still laughed about it right in front of her. I decided to use that opportunity to tease Mia a little.

“Don’t worry, Mia. I’m more into the mature type anyway.” I announced, and what can I say? Worked like a charm!

“You stay the hell away from my Mom!”

This time, Joan’s laughter was borderline hysterical. Looking in the rearview mirror, I noticed Ava looking at me with raised eyebrows, but she still wouldn’t say anything. The rest of the drive to school was mostly quiet, apart from Mia’s continuous “Hmpf!” sounds, she still produced every few minutes.

“Ava, stay.” I said, when they all had opened their doors. She immediately complied, and the others looked at us questioningly. “I’ll need a minute with my sister, please. Just go inside. I’ll be here when school’s out.”

While the other two grabbed their bags and left for the entrance, Ava sat on the backseat with her hands clasped in her lap. I remembered how she behaved when I fucked her, and the suspicions I had formed about where that behavior came from. I decided this wouldn’t work out if I continued using her submissiveness.

“Could you get in the front, please?” I asked, and she complied again.

I started the car and drove off. Ava still wasn’t talking.

“I have to get you home. You’re gonna miss school today.”

“Why?” she asked quietly.

“Your grandparents called social services on my ass.” I said, causing her to finally lift her head and look at me shocked. “They interviewed me yesterday and they’ll interview your parents next. Probably you and Maggie as well. In case this isn’t abundantly clear, this is exactly what we were afraid of happening if Logan’s videos came out.”

“Oh shit.” she just breathed out.

“Yeah. That’s what Danny said.” She looked at me in surprise when she heard me call our aunt ‘Danny’, but didn’t comment on it. “So, she’ll coach you all today. Make sure you know what to say about our relationship problems without giving away the real reason none of you want me.”

“We do want you, Tim.” she said after a moment.

“Sure. Now that there’s another problem you need solved, and your girlfriends aren’t around to hear you say it, you suddenly want me back. Fuck you, Princess. Yesterday you were eagerly nodding away when Mia almost cost me my job by accusing me of randomly beating up the client’s kid and his friends!”

She looked at me with a frantic and pained expression while she tried to speak.

“That wasn’t ... I didn’t think...” she stammered.

“What? You didn’t think making me look like a violent asshole with anger issues could endanger my job in a firm providing security? Or were you just approving because you think I actually did go after your highly valued football team? You, of all people, should know that they came after me, not the other way around.”

She hung her head and fell silent. After a few minutes of silence, I spoke again.

“You know, apparently, it’s not that unusual when siblings don’t get along. So, if you rather throw me under the bus to collect Kudos Points from your friends ... go ahead! But don’t feed me some bullshit afterwards and act like you suddenly value me. If that were the case, you would’ve defended me when it mattered.”

I saw her wringing her hands in her lap, head still hanging. It looked like she was trying to find the right words, or the courage, to explain herself.

“I’m just ... you don’t understand, Tim. It’s not about my image or anything. I don’t know ... when Logan told me to do something, it’s ... hard for me not to. And recently, even with my friends...”

She didn’t exactly stammer, it was more like she was so embarrassed about it, she had to constantly force herself to continue talking. I decided to be a little more direct about my suspicions.

“Princess, if being used as a submissive little fucktoy is what rocks your boat, then go for it.” I said matter of fact. She immediately snapped her head around to look at me in shock. “There is nothing wrong with it. But unless you envision your future as the secret side-chick of the last thing girls see before they get a urinary tract infection, you should learn to leave that desire in the bedroom.”

“You ... how do you...” Now she absolutely stammered.

“Was I so bad you already forgot about me fucking you ‘till you walked funny, dear sister?” I mocked, and saw her blush a little, which was cute. “I still remember the way you looked at me for simply offering you a ride afterwards. I take it Logan and Aaron like to keep the Dom act up, even after you all get dressed again?”

“Yes.” she just said quietly, confirming my speculation.

“Of course the two people with the least amount of agency in the house have to play Dom. And Golden Boy had the balls to accuse me of compensating for something.” I snorted, causing her to, once again, regard me with that same appraising look I saw twice before. “Look ... I’m not a psychologist, I’m honestly just fishing for answers here. But I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out why you all treated me like dirt for so long. Maybe you should talk to Danny about it. She helped me quite a bit, though it also took quite a bit to make her realize I needed help. But with the way our family goes about sex ... you’ve been involved in it for years, and I know you never restricted yourselves to the bedrooms. So, maybe it makes sense if the boundaries are starting to blur for you. I don’t know.”

“You’re saying I need help? Like ... I’m not normal or something?” she asked, sounding slightly upset and more than a little bit afraid.

“I just told you there was nothing wrong with enjoying it. We all have our kinks, and I’m not telling you to stop having fun. Don’t think I didn’t enjoy you letting me fuck you any way I wanted, either. What I did say is that you need to get a handle on it! Think about all the shit you did to hurt me, just because someone told you to do it, or because you thought it would make them happy. And then remind yourself of where it got me. You want to be dominated in the bedroom, that’s one thing. But you sacrificed your little brother’s happiness, just to get a rise from your fuckbuddies. If you think that trade-off was worth it, then we have nothing more to talk about. Ever. Otherwise, you need to seriously reevaluate your priorities. If you actually want any kind of relationship with me in the future, I first need to know you won’t screw me over just to get some dick again. Or one of your friends asks you to ... again.”

That caused her to look at me in shame once more. I had known for quite some time that she had helped the pranksters in school. I also knew that she was the one who provided them with my locker-combination, making her partly responsible for the prank that ruined my textbooks and ultimately led me to working with Bill. I just never saw the need to confront her about it, since I had more pressing issues with them that weren’t lessened by talking in the least. I knew what I needed from them, and Danny was absolutely right about it. But I still didn’t know how they could ever prove to me that they changed. The car was quiet for the rest of the drive, while Ava seemed to mull my words over in her head.

When we arrived in her driveway, she wordlessly stepped out of my car, just as Aaron stepped out of the front door and rushed over to my window. At the same time, Claire stepped out of the house right behind Aaron. She, however, stopped on the porch while fidgeting around with her hands. And instead of coming over like her husband, she just stared at me with a disturbed look in her eyes. I brushed it off as fear over the impending Interviews with Social Services.

“Tim!” Aaron almost shouted when he reached my car. “Danny filled us in. Thanks for driving her home. Are you staying?”

“No.” I replied, as I put the car in reverse.

He had barely enough time to step back before I pulled out of their driveway. When I put the car back into drive, I glanced over to them and could see Ava demanding a hug from her father with her head still hanging. I also noticed Claire not even registering Aaron’s and Ava’s nonverbal exchange, since her entire focus was still solely on me, her expression still just as disturbed as before, though now she was gripping the railing that ran along the porch. I just shook my head about their behavior and drove off.

My next stop was the family lawyer, though it was highly unsatisfactory. The lawyer explained to me that the legal requirements for my emancipation were indeed met. I was seventeen, managed my own finances for quite some time already, and lived on my own with my parents’ approbation. When she said that last part, I perked up, and she further explained that, while someone had called social services, it was my grandparents instead of my parents. Since my parents themselves never called anyone about me being gone, not even the police after realizing I had run away, and never even visited the place even after knowing where I was, that could be construed as their acquiescence.

I was elated! And then she shot me down again.

Apparently, in the end it would be the Judge who makes the final decision, based on how they feel at that moment, really. She also warned me that the judge can order counseling and psychological examinations before making a decision, which I would have to pay for as well, because the state wasn’t exactly eager to emancipate teenagers. So, the lawyer discouraged me from petitioning the court unless there is an actual necessity for emancipation, and definitely not so close to Christmas, when those old folks in court are ‘more likely to call upon family values’.

Dejected from, once again, realizing I had gotten my hopes up for nothing, I made my way to my last stop for the day. A local safe manufacturer. I found a commercial model I liked, though it weighed 318 lbs, so I had to pay extra for delivery, which would happen the next day already.

Back in school, I moved into the library to work on my last few online assignments until Mia was done with her classes. It had the benefit that I could see whoever entered the building, so I could honestly claim to have done my job properly for at least two thirds of the day. But it was hard to concentrate. Despite what Danny had told me, I kept blaming myself for revealing as much as I did while talking to that social worker. If I had just kept my mouth shut, trusting that I was too old and self-reliant for them to do anything, the others could’ve said anything they wanted and the social worker wouldn’t have to dig too deep. But now, that I had revealed what was going on, they would specifically look into the parents’ relationship with their children.

Even those thoughts were constantly interrupted by my phone vibrating whenever I received yet another push notification for a new connected device in the Miller household, thanks to the construction crew being busy there. Though, the knowledge that it worked just as intended was somewhat reassuring. By the time Mia’s last class was about to end, I closed my Laptop and walked outside to wait for her by the Library’s entrance.

“Mr. Brown! I thought you were off for a while longer?”

I turned to see Mrs. Jenkins, my hot English teacher and wife of Coach Jenkins, inspecting me with critical eyes.

“I am. Got to pick someone up.”

“Well, why don’t you use that opportunity to visit the school store and get some of the appropriate apparel in the right size? I have to say, you went through quite the transformation.” she said with a small smile, while holding her hand out, pointing in the direction of the store.

I realized I never bothered picking up the school clothes in my new size. I had gotten around that, since wearing street clothes was tolerated as long as they were in the school colors and didn’t feature any brand names. But exclusively wearing the same tone of blue shirts each day meant that, after a few days, I started feeling like a cartoon character that owns only one single outfit. I complied and, to my surprise, her extended arm turned out to be an offer to escort me there.

“Even my husband was impressed with your new stature.” she continued, “May I ask, how did that change come about?”

“I’ve been working for a security company for a while now. They have their own gym we train in daily. So, it was kinda inevitable.”

“Oh? Sounds exciting. What kind of job are you performing in that company?” She sounded intrigued, as we had reached the Apparel Store and I started picking out what I needed.

I got two pairs of sweatpants and 2-button jerseys for gym class, workshop shirts, and a bunch of polo shirts in different versions for my regular classes. Since it was winter, I also picked up two quarter-zip sweatshirts. None of it was the first choice for what style the other students preferred, but it looked more like what I was seeing on my coworkers, so that’s what I went for. For some reason, Mrs. Jenkins seemed to approve of my choices. I also decided to pick up a new sports bag to carry my purchases in.

“Mainly IT stuff and writing reports. Sometimes actual security work as well.” I answered her question casually, as I pulled out my wallet. I noticed Mrs. Jenkins’ intrigued look as I removed the cash from the Money clip attached to the wallet, and counted off the $370 Dollars I just picked in clothes.

“Do you always carry around that much money?”

“Most times, yes.”

“I take it that job of your’s pays well?” she asked, with a bigger smile now, while we left the building.

“You could say that.” I just answered, as we reached the car and I remotely opened the trunk to throw my purchases in it.

In addition to her eyes growing bigger, now her eyebrows lifted towards her hairline as well, as she examined the luxury SUV I had just opened. Since it wasn’t featuring any company logos or advertisements, she probably thought this was my own car. I didn’t exactly plan on flaunting any riches around, but I did very much enjoy letting her believe I was loaded after they had all disregarded and dismissed me before. Well, strictly speaking, I actually was loaded with almost two million dollars sitting in my apartment. But I never saw the appeal in using it to impress people.

“Do you have a dog?” she asked in speculation, pointing at the blast-shield behind the backseats.

“Oh, no. That car is armored. That shield is in case someone shoots at me from behind.”

She blinked at me after hearing that, but quickly caught herself.

“I see. Well it is certainly an upgrade compared to your old car. No offense, but that old Jeep of your’s did seem like it wouldn’t survive much longer.”

“Is it standard practice for English teachers to memorize what kind of cars their students drive?”

That caused her to smirk.

“I may have kept an eye on you after your transformation, Mr. Brown. As I said before, it was ... intriguing.” she answered, while her smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Maybe, one day, I will have to ask for your services.”

“Oh?”

Did she just imply what I heard, or did I just hear it because I had a hard time keeping my eyes off her body? There was the possibility that she really simply took an interest in me because she was one of those teachers who cared about her students. After all, she had to know about the harassment I endured in that building, and she probably also heard that I had to literally threaten the principal with a lawyer so he would do his job, since her husband was involved in that event. So, maybe, she was simply worried about seeing the drastic behavioral changes in a bullied student.

I stopped thinking about that when I saw Mia and Joan leave the building, because, as they saw me chatting with Mrs. Jenkins from a distance, they stopped dead in their tracks. They exchanged a few words without taking their eyes off us, and when they started in my direction again, I smirked and decided to use that opportunity.

“And what kind of service could I offer that you would be interested in?” I admit, it was kinda annoying to keep watching my speech, just on the off-chance that she, as my English teacher, would maybe appreciate it.

“Oh, we seem to have quite frequent troubles with our computers. If you are as good with them as your income implies, I would like to make use of that expertise from time to time. In exchange, I would be happy to help you with your studies after classes. These online replacement courses can be quite challenging with nobody to talk you through them.”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Jenkins. Your husband may not be happy with that idea.” I said, as Mia and Joan had definitely reached hearing distance.

“Oh, don’t worry about my husband. You are one of my students! I would be neglecting my duties if I refused to teach you some things.” she smiled.

Again, the way she phrased that last part didn’t necessarily sound innocent, though I couldn’t be sure. However, it sure helped making Mia and Joan think I was flirting with our English teacher in the school’s parking lot. Mia quickly announced their presence by loudly clearing her throat and glaring at me.

“Took you long enough.” I said.

“Oh, you are picking up young Ms. Miller?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Yes. He does. He’s my chauffeur.” Mia explained.

“We already talked about this, Mia. Your parents pay me to keep you safe. Nothing else.” I quickly corrected her as I opened the heavy door for her. Not just because I didn’t like being called her chauffeur, but because I didn’t want Mrs. Jenkins to think I lied about my work. “Thank you for the offer, Mrs. Jenkins. I would be happy to help you out, and I’d love to have you ... teach me.”

Now she looked at me with a single raised eyebrow over an otherwise perfect poker face, watching me as I sat in the car. Whether I misinterpreted her tone before, or she was simply disapproving of my suggestive tone while others were around, I couldn’t tell.

“So. Joan’s going back to your place again?” I asked, noting the both of them sitting on the backseat.

“No. We just thought, since you said you’d drive her wherever she tells you to, we could start by telling you that I need a lift home.” Joan answered with a genuinely pleasant smile, letting me know this was more friendly teasing than mean pushing.

“Sure. Though you’ll have to tell me where that is.”

We drove for maybe five minutes before Mia spoke up.

“What is it with you and old women!?”

“Excuse me?”

“We heard you and Mrs. Jenkins. She must be, like, fifty or something. And is married! What kind of weirdo goes after that!?”

“First of all, if she’s fifty, she certainly doesn’t look like it. And even if she did, I’d still prefer her over the girls in school.”

“What!? Eww!”

“Mia, I know this is probably a concept that’s hard to grasp for someone like you, but there are things in a person more important than their looks.”

“Pff.” she snorted in reply. “Says the guy nobody wants. Of course you’re gonna go on about inner values.” She adapted a mocking tone for that last part.

“Fuck inner values.” I chuckled. “I’m not talking about committed relationships with a lifetime partner, yet. I’m talking about skills for fuckbuddies, Honey.”

“What!?” Joan and Mia asked simultaneously, while Mia didn’t seem the least bit phased by me calling her ‘Honey’.