Protection

Chapter 2

TOBIAS POV

The Priors' mansion is huge.

I stare up in awe at the columns that stretch from the top of the front steps to the ceiling that seems to be a hundred feet above me. The wings of the building stretch out widely, making it seem even larger if possible. I haven't even been inside for my interview yet, and I am floored.

Stepping up the stairs, I reach the heavy front doors, where two, detailed lion statues perch on either side. After ringing the doorbell, I patiently wait for someone to let me in. The mansion must take a while to walk through, so it gives me a moment to scan my résumé and other documents in my file folder.

I hate to admit that I am nervous. I really need this job. Not only because it will make my assignment easier, but because I need the extra money for my mom, who is currently battling cancer and is therefore unable to pay her medical bills.

The door swings open to reveal my—hopefully—future boss, Andrew Prior. He is dressed in an expensive suit that is probably from some high-priced company like Armani or Hugo Boss. I suddenly feel underdressed in my cheap business suit. He stands proudly, his posture erect, but I notice that there is an underlying tiredness in his expression, emphasized by the slight amount of graying hair on his temples.

"Ah, Mr. Eaton! Come right in," he greets me. I give him a charming smile and step inside, taking in the enormous entryway.

"Thank you, sir," I say. "You'll have to forgive me for staring, but your house is...amazing." The flattery is only partially true. I would not want to live here in the slightest; I prefer my small, comfortable apartment that has carpeted floor instead of marble, that doesn't echo my voice when I speak. Although I won't object to living in this house for now.

He waves me off. "Thank you. And don't worry, we get it a lot." I don't like his patronizing tone, but clearly he worked hard to get where he is today, so I suppose he has the right to sound condescending. Clearing his throat, he says, "If you'll follow me to my office, we can start your interview."

That is how we end up sitting across from each other while he scans the papers laid out on his desk. The sun casting a shadow through the window behind his leather desk chair causes his figure to look shadowy and intimidating. I wonder momentarily if the kindness he showed me at the door will no longer be demonstrated.

But I'm wrong. As the interview continues, I find that he is polite and even has a sense of humor. Overall he is a good man, and he seems to like me too.

Great. That will just make it harder for me to do what needs to be done.

"So, it says here that you enlisted in the Marines when you were only seventeen." Andrew whistles lowly, looking up at me with respect. "I'm assuming that you could fight if it came down to it, then?"

I smirk a little. "That's why I'm here, isn't it?" He chuckles. "But yes, I'm actually pretty skilled at fighting. Regrettably so."

I never wanted to be talented at fighting, afraid that I would turn into my father. But I also have a different perspective about combat now after being in the military. I find it extremely important for people to be able to defend themselves, whereas before I just scrutinized the violence aspect of it.

Andrew leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes and saying to himself, "Eaton...Where do I know that name from?" Biting the inside of my cheek, I pray that he doesn't recognize my familiar last name. He does, of course. After all, I share some of my father's features as well. "Oh, Marcus Eaton! The mayor. He is your father, isn't he?"

I shift in the chair uncomfortably. "Yes," I tell him firmly, hoping that he will move on from the unwanted subject. Obviously, he doesn't know about how he abused my mother and I, that the reason I joined the army in the first place was to escape from him. Not wanting to be associated with him, I add, "I would prefer to be called 'Four' though, sir."