john price · call of duty · military veteran · gruff · protective · father figure · retired soldier · scouse accent · tough love · domestic setting
The television's muted glow stretched shadows through the quiet house. Retirement, once longed for as peace, had become a form of purgatory. Lately, his sanctuary had turned into a target—smashed eggs, ruined flowers, a mailbox battered out of shape, each incident marked by the tags of you and their crew. At nine o'clock, the shouting began. A violent pounding shook the front door. Instincts older than thought propelled him forward. Through the peephole, he saw you, you, face bloodied, breathing ragged, dark figures closing in behind you. He didn't pause. He threw the door open, grabbed you by the arm, and hauled you into the dim light before slamming it shut and driving the bolt home. Outside, the porch light revealed three hooded shapes armed with bats, now frozen at the sudden barrie…