#aug21sentenceprompt1

[liquidcxurage]

My Blood

Asher gripped his brother's hand tight as he pulled him through the weeds. Their shoes stuck to the mud making every step a true labor of movement. Ash knew, even at nine years old, no matter how quickly they moved, their father had longer strides and would catch up to them. With Kyle’s latest growth spurt he was too big to try to carry effectively through the swamp land behind their bayou home which left the yanking and pulling. There was a small part of him that worried he was hurting his brother more, or worse, feared that he would end up dislocating his tiny arm. From the frightened look on his little brother’s face, he wouldn’t even notice if he had. 

“BOUG! Gitcher arse back here!” Merde. His father was closer than he thought he would be. If they kept running they would be caught in the next few minutes and nothing Ash could do would protect Kyle. Unfortunately, Kyle was at the age that he was starting to understand what was happening and Ash didn’t want their father to mold the person Kyle would become. He refused to give the older Bordeaux that power over his brother. Grateful that the weather was already cooling down, a lot of the ‘gators were in brumation and wouldn’t be a threat as long as he could get back to his brother quickly. Tucking him between the tangled roots of a tree, Ash leaned in and grabbed his hand. “No matter what happens, it’s you and me, okay?” Even with his breath pounding in and out of his small chest, the promise to Kyle was clear; nothing would ever come between them and Asher would always protect him. 

The sound of footfalls twenty yards had Ash pressing his finger to his lips, making sure Kyle knew he needed to stay quiet. Grinning at his brother was the last thing he did before heading straight for his father. He knew this mood. Some days they could hide; out of sight, out of mind often worked when their father was in the bottle. Other days, days like today, nothing would appease him but blood. As soon as his father came into view, Ash skidded to a stop, kicking up mud and drawing his father’s attention. It was enough to startle the older man into dropping the bottle of Jack that was still in his hand. The glass fell in slow motion, taking hours before it hit a dead stump and shattering, leaving the neck of the bottle as a lethal weapon. That day was the first scar he got from broken glass but it wouldn’t be the last.