Belonging - House of Goths 2

Prologue

(House of Goths 1) - Chapter 56

For whatever reason, Becky woke up with a start. Seeing Kelley still fast asleep at her side, she was reluctant to wake him. Yet in her chest, her heart raced with an overwhelming sense of unease. Something was amiss.

Unable to stand it, she quietly got up and tiptoed into the hall, careful to close the bedroom door behind her. She took a few steps and stood silent for a moment. She then dared a peek into Dorian's room. He was okay, sleeping on his belly and she was glad for that. A few steps more, she poked her head into Keegan's room. She breathed a sigh of relief, finding him snoring away.

Last but not least, she checked Crispin's room. That's when her heart all but stopped. The prickly Goth was gone! His bed left untouched from the day before. "Crispin..."

With her heart in her throat, she raced down the stairs. She should have known something was wrong. He'd been so sad lately, so despondent.

Just about to shut his trunk, Crispin nearly screamed with fright at the full force of Becky's impact. She literally launched herself at him, clinging tenaciously to him with her arms and legs.

"Crispin! Don't go, don't go..." She continued to climb him.

Spotting him at the last minute, despite her tears, she had raced out of the house to catch him. Blinded with concern, she hadn't thought twice about it.

"Holy fuck, Becky," Crispin gasped, clutching her to himself. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Where are you going?" she asked with an undeniable quiver to her lips, pointing at the large suitcase in the trunk.

Damn, why did she have to catch him? Wasn't it hard it enough to leave without having to explain? He simply needed to do this. He needed to step away if only for his own sanity.

Forcibly disengaging her arms from his neck, he gave her his most intimidating frown. He then placed her gently but firmly on the ground. That's when he noticed her state of undress, standing there with only those incredibly flimsy pjs and nothing on her feet.

If that weren't bad enough, thunder rumbled from above. Droplets of rain, the size of her tears, fell from the night sky.

"Becky, get back inside! You're not dressed. You have nothing on your feet! Is it a death wish you have?"

"I don't care! Tell me what this is about!" she demanded.

Unable to stand what the sight of her distress did to him, he turned his back and shut his trunk. The best thing he could do was get out of there. Time was of the essence.

"Crispin, please..." She followed him around to the driver's side of his car, tugging on his sleeve.

"For God's sake, Becky," he snapped, shaking her off, instantly regretting it at the sight of her uncertainty. The last thing he wanted was to be unnecessarily cruel. He simply needed to get away. Why did she have to make this harder than it already was?

"Becky, you'll get sick again," he stressed, pointing at her bare feet. Incapable of dealing with the sight of her standing on the cold gravelly ground, he grabbed her up into his arms again.

"Crispin," she sobbed, clinging onto him with all her might. "Please, don't leave!"

With a very deep breath, Crispin turned and carried her toward the back door of the house. With every determined step, his mind raced with what he could possibly say to set her mind at ease. He should have known better than to sneak away. In fact, he realized now just how incredibly cowardly and cruel an act it was. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he had indeed, become as important to her as she was to him.