Curse of the Oak

Chapter Sixteen

The next few days didn't show any improvement between Des and her father. Des couldn't help but have hope that these past events would help extinguish the fire still blazing between them. The flames so fiery and brutal as it started searing the tips of their flesh. But she was disappointed once again.

The silence and distance that stowed between them was even worse than before. The bridge between them was completely gone, and they were stranded, staring at each other from opposite sides.

The only change Des noticed was her father no longer hiding behind his locked door. The oak wood surface that had been shut for so long was finally open. At first, Des was for sure it was a dream, until she walked in on her father and Nan in the kitchen discussing hunter business.

Des watched as their whispers grew quiet, both staring at her as if she discovered a secret. Ignoring their stares, she went on about her day hoping to force something out of her father. She needed to show him that he couldn't protect her or hide her anymore. No one could. Des wanted to show her father how mature she had become, right after she cut the gas line to his bike.

Even that didn't spark the man. Her verge of revenge and payback hid her true spirits. What she wanted more than anything was hear her mother's voice. Des wanted the soft melodic sound to carry her away and avoid the problems before her.

Des sat inside the mausoleum, next to her mother's stone. Her bag was lying next to her, filled with her mother's past journals from her study she collected earlier that morning. Des had been wanting to go through the books for several days, but when she would open one of them a twinge of anger found its way toward her. Des was angry for her mother not telling her about this world. Des felt betrayed. Making her feel as if she didn't know her mother at all.

She had her eyes closed trying to remember every story her mother told. The legends that Des discovered to be true. However, she could never remember any sign or hint about the hunters. Her mother was indeed a sharp silver tongue, choosing her words slightly and deceitfully.

After another moment of silence, Des finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Her hands stranded through her hair, stopping at her neck. She laced her fingers together and laid her head back, letting her frustrations and regrets swarm around her.

Desiree's mind began to swirl, remembering everything from the night her mother was taken. If she didn't have that piece of turtle cheesecake, would that have allowed enough time to save her from being murdered? Or would have it only made things worse, destroying more innocent lives.

Just when tears began to slide down her cheeks, she watched the door open with Griffin strolling in. He was in a pair of sweats, his hair still tangled from his morning bedhead. His green eyes found her blue ones. He gave her a loving glance and slid beside her, placing his arm around her.

Des's head sunk into the familiar shoulder she has cried on for the her whole life. It seemed like a pillow, comforting and always there.

"I thought I would find you here," Griffin whispered, leaning his head on top of hers, rubbing his hand on her shoulder.

"Am I that predictable?" Des sighed, hiding back the sobs that wanted to escape from her throat.

Griffin laughed, kissing the top of her head. "Sometimes. Especially that time when Chad Johnson threw paint all over us."

Des delighted in the memory, remembering how Griffin began to cry when the paint ruined his new shirt. She even remembered how she chased Chad around the room with scissors in her hands, ready to skin the boy alive. It took Mrs. Wheeler and Principal Jones to pull her off him, along with chunks of his curly brown hair.