The Scarlett Maiden

Four: Hairbrush

Chapter Four

My blood was boiling, threatening the escape from my skin as I stomped my way up the creaking staircase. How could she tell me whom I could and couldn't see? Who I was, and what I could be? It wasn't right.

None of it was.

"Ethan Mckormick! Get yourself back down here this instant!" Mother screamed at me from the bottom of the mahogany.

The sound of her voice made my blood even hotter, and I continued my stomps, not even acknowledging her.

"Ethan!" She screeched, the crisp clicking of her shoes echoing off the walls. "Ethan!"

I felt like crying, I was that angry. How could she tell me that I could no longer lay eyes on the beautiful red hair?

My feet had instinctively made the familiar path to my bedroom door, not even pausing to glance at one of our paintings. I could hear her, only a few feet behind me, and from the sound of her exhalation I knew her fury matched mine.

I let myself into the room anyway, slamming the door behind me. I was beyond the point where anything mattered to me but my own solitude.

My angry breaths had hardly begun to slow when the head full of blonde hair made its way into the opulence that was my bedroom.

"What are you thinking!" She thundered at me, eyes bulging at an impossible rate.

Usually I was quite keen to keeping my temper at a low amount due to the strain that was being a McKormick, but for some reason it all flew away with thoughts of Alana.

"I'm thinking clearly for the first time, Mother," I found myself replying angrily, the venom seeping from my teeth. "Perhaps you should follow suit."

She glared at me severely for a long moment before allowing herself inside, and shutting the door behind her. "I don't like this attitude of yours, Ethan."

My eyes examined the open window, preventing me from some type of snarky retort. If I could only get her away, I could get through this. I allowed a calm breath to enter me, cooling my blood. "I apologize, mother."

I could feel her disbelief. "Why don't you want the Witherworth girl?"

"She's exactly the same as the Cusak, Stiffler, and Collins girls." I replied, not looking away from the cool summer night. "Alana is different from any of them. She's different than anyone."

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" She questioned. "He didn't have much trouble."

I shrugged.

"You never go into the courtroom with your father either," she continued. "You'd be such a wonderful judge."

"I want to spend my time with Alana." I sighed, finally allowing my eyes to meet hers once more. "You asked me to find someone, and I did."

Her dark eyes glinted at my words. "Not Alana Gold for God's sake!"

I exhaled, exasperation filling every ounce of the sound. "Why?"

"No son of mine will fall for the town Whore."

I blinked at her words, feeling my blood begin to heat again. "Take it back."

She laughed, as if I were telling some type of demented joke.

Why was it that no one ever took me seriously? I had my own rights, and my own feelings; if I fancied someone, then I had every right to, no matter what the ludicrous reputation.

"It is beyond funny," I snapped. "Take it back."

She let out another cackle, before raising an eyebrow. "You're serious?"