Menacingly

"What?" I asked extremely shocked, my eyes widening at the new information that I had just received.

"Mr. Cavanaugh." she repeated.

This time when she said it, it held less confidence than it had the first time. A ton of emotions dripping off her words, but not a single emotion was clear nor comprehensible.

"Is there more rules?" I asked hesitantly, the feeling of already knowing the answer creeping up inside of me.
Hanna nodded her head, anticipating my next question she answered,"I'm really not suppose to be talking about this- I dont want to get into trouble."

I nodded my head in understanding, not wanting anything to happen to her either.

"I should probably get going," I frowned walking over to the door. I looked back just as she was making the bed making me feel even worse. "Can you come to my room tonight?"

Hanna looked up at me, her head shaking from side to side hysterically.
"Mr. Cavanaugh would never approve of that." she explained.

"Are their more rules?" I asked quietly, not wanting Dean to hear. She silently nodded her head but didn't dare to speak words.
"Are you aloud to talk about it?" she shook her head as an answer. Nodding in understand I agilely turned to the door, gripping the door knob but not turning it.

"Tonight," I said quietly, loud enough for her to hear, my face still siding the door. "Can you come to my room- I want to know more."
It was quiet and I began thinking that she would never give me a response so finally, I twisted the door handle slowly.
Sighing, I opened up the door and her voice came in.

"Mr. Cavanaugh can not find out about this." she mumbled. I looked back offering a smile and a single head nod in response to this.

Finally, I emerged from the bedroom to see Dean sitting on the floor with his legs, and arms both crossed; his eyes eyes were closed shut as he hummed a soft, serene tune to himself to pass time.

"Dean?" I asked.

His eyes flew upon and he gave me an unplaced look.
"I thought you would never come out of that room." he complained, standing up from his position, taking time to straighten out his suit.
I looked down at the floor shyly, following in tow.

"Sorry."

Saying nothing, we continued walking in peace with the exception of workers going back and fourth to get stuff done around the house.

Just as we turned a corner, a guy carrying a tray of tea had bumped into Dean, dropping everyrhing onto the floor, a single tea cup breaking.

"Watch where you are going." Dean told him. The guy nodded nervously then bent down to pick up the pieces.
Frowning, I bent down and began helping the guy put things on the silver tray.

"Spencer, you are not aloud to help the servants." Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"There's nothing wrong with helping." I mumbled, slicing my index finger on a broken piece.
"Now Mr. Cavanaugh is going to kill me- give me your hand." Dean told me.

I looked at his extended hand, not moving to take it into my own. His actions making it hard for me to trust him with my injury.

The guy who had dropped the tray of dishes pulled a band-aide out and helped wrap it around my finger.
"Thank you." I smiled earning a smile back.
We both got off of the floor and the guy walked away with the tray.

Dean grabbed my wrist, deciding to tug me along with him the rest of the way to the car. "You shouldn't have done that." he stated, getting into the car after me.

"What did you mean by, Mr. Cavanaugh is going to kill me?" I asked curiously, while applying pressure to my cut.

"It doesn't matter." he responded with a bit of harshness in his tone. Deciding to stay quiet, seeing as I was clearly annoying him, I turned to look at the view outside.

There were things that I had never had a chance to see when I was driving on my own. Other than that, I was hardly able to leave the house.

The car came to a stop moments later followed by the door being opened for Dean and I to exit.
Dean placed a hand in the middle of my back before proceeding into the building where we were greeted with a ton of flashes going off- security guards trying to get them out of the building.

"What's going on?" I asked looking around and blinking rapidly, trying to get my vision back.
I could see his mouth moving but it was hard to hear over all of the yelling. I was quicklay guided down the hallway and into an elevator.

Dean pressed a number on the elevator wall but I had no view of what it was now that he stood in front of me.
The doors soon opened and Dean stepped out of the way for me to exit.

"Aren't you coming?"
He shook his head,"I have important things to take care of."

The elevator door closed and I sighed turning around just to come face to face with Lucas.
"He's always like that, you'll get use to it." he told me.

I shook my head in disagreement,"Honestly, I don't think I will- its people like him that I try to avoid." I confessed.

"Believe it or not he is not the worst person here, there is someone else that you wouldn't want to be caught in the same room, its mostly why he's isolated."

Isolated.

"Spencer come out of your room?" my mom said from the other side of the door.
I sat in my bay window not responding to a word she was saying.

"Spencer, your dad left for work." she tried. That only made me cry even harder than I already was.
"He's not my dad." I cried to myself softly.

Grabbing my book filled with empty pages I began writing and sooner or later I had a poem written about the difference of the two words.

"Spencer?" Lucas asked waving a hand in front of my face. I shook the memory out of my head immediately focusing on Lucas.

"Sorry I. . . I have to go." I murmured, quickly walking away to the direction that led to Toby's office.

I walked into Toby's office and gasped at the sight of Toby pinning a girl to a wall kissing her roughly.
My heart cried out as Toby turned to look at me, his eyes widening.

"Spencer-"
I shook my head not wanting to hear what he had to say.
"You shouldn't have to explain anything to me," I smiled sadly. "I'm just your personal assistant."

I closed the door and walked back to where I had left Lucas standing.
"I thought you had to go?" he asked me.
"Mr. Cavanaugh is busy right now."

Lucas sighed placing a hand on my shoulder.
"How about we go to the kitchen and help cook while you tell me what happened?" he suggested.

Not trusting my voice, I simply nodded in response.