Lusting For Elliot

:Part Two: Chapter Twenty

~Chapter Twenty~

The door slammed behind me, together with the reality of this situation. My phone, my computer, my car keys and my time: they were all gone. My freedom to roam, the trust I'd gained, all stripped from me in one weekend. My control...

But why wouldn't it be? I'd taken my little brother with me. I, not yet eighteen, the legal age, had let my brother travel with my friends into unknown territory, in the night, and not bothered to leave a note or to ask for permission to push into this adventure. Of course even knowing there was the likely chance they would disagree shouldn't have been reason not to leave the fore mentioned note.

And there was the part where I'd insulted my step mother, and that had sparked off the whole weekend with sour moods and risen passions. Punishment also included my being grounded: to school and back. Assignments are to be done in school or in the library with the close watch of Muriel, who was under strict instructions not to leave my sight in school or at home.

He was to follow me in school by order of Lady Eleanor Mary Christendom, Countess of Fairway; my grandmother.

My mouth couldn't stop feeling so heavy and I was aware I was gaping at my shut off computer whose hard drive had first been taken out two days ago. The erratic beat in my chest was fast becoming a monotone tempo that was nothing like how it had been this whole weekend. Out of shock nothing had registered what had just transpired.

Where was the rebellion I'd experienced not long ago? Where was the anger, the vigour to strike back and deny all around me the chance to push me down? Where were the passions whose tempting claws that had grabbed hold of my senses gone to? Where was Elliot?

On lock down: not home lock down. I couldn't reach him even if I wanted to. To imagine his situation, alone but surrounded with all sorts of uncouthly vandals, brought on a shaming wash of guilt that threatened to choke me. I had it better. It wasn't any ordinary lock down that Elliot had been subjected to, and it was this idea that had tamed me so thoroughly that I couldn't say a word in defiance.

Elliot was in prison. My grandmother, all the way in England, had charged him for abduction and restraint. My having still been a minor had given the case more credence than it needed. And my father had let her go through with it.

There rose the anger.

Without a moment's hesitation, I stormed out the door and followed the roaring voices. I wouldn't allow this. I refused to let this happen. I refused to put Elliot's life in jeopardy because of me.

"She was irresponsible and wrong," dad roared. I stepped into his office room and found Muriel with him, standing across the large desk, dad an infuriated mess on the other side. A friend Muriel would always be, but his betrayal still stung. He'd been my grandmother's spy.

"You were irresponsible and wrong," I said, stopping before his desk. Dad's scowl deepened as his gaze fell on me.

"You are not in my good graces right now, Chrystal," he said. "Be careful with what you say."

Hurt was my reaction to the words, an innate reaction from a daughter who'd just been told by her father the disappointment he felt. But I pushed it down: he'd not been a father for the entirety of the stay. "You think you're in mine?" I demanded. "You ignored your children and refused to give them a voice in matters that concerned them. That could have been washed out but then you and grandmother go ahead and do this? Get him out."

The look my father gave me was of astounded mockery. "That boy again," he spat. "That boy is responsible for your sudden despondence. A few days in a prison ought to do him some good."

This couldn't have been my father, could it? When had he become this vindictive male I wished to get away from? "He didn't do anything," I said, the shock from the situation pulling out a sudden calm. "It was my choice to go to the ranch and my choice to go with them," I made certain to meet his words as I spoke. "If you wish to blame someone, let it be me, not Elliot."

"Was it also your choice to drag your brother with you?" he said. I startled. "Things could have been worse," he said. Though I did not wish to see it, the worry under the mask of anger was prominent, and enough to bring my anger down.

I shook my head. "They weren't. I had everything under control." No, you hadn't. I'd been under such blissful contention I hadn't worried over anything else. The guilt of the could-have-been threatened to erupt the more I thought about it, and I had to force it down with a dry gulp.

"Chrystal, all you had to do was tell us you wished to go," dad said slowly, slumping back into his seat with a resigned expression on his face. He rubbed his forehead as he spoke, but did not spare me a glance. The hurt surged forward with enough vehemence to nearly choke. "Show me you're still you and just go back to your room."

I did. It wasn't to prove something. But I feared staying would result in words spoken that could never be returned, and actions taken that would forever mar and continually pull apart the rift already there. How had things gotten to this point?