The Brooks Boys

Chapter Twenty Four

He hugs me tightly and rocks me slowly in his arms.

"Hey, don't cry. What's the matter?" Beau coos softly into my hair. To be quite honest I'm not entirely sure as to why I am crying. Maybe it's the shock of Troye calling after nearly a week of ignoring me and the suspicion of what he might have said if I was here to answer.

"Nothing I just really need some fresh air." I say, patting my tears away with the pad of my index finger. I've only just retouched my makeup, now I probably look like death's doormat.

I want to be able to tell Beau anything but despite our current 'relationship' or what whatever you call this thing we have going on, I've only known him for a week and I know it isn't wise to tell him about Troyes phone call. I've heard of how angry he can get and I really don't want to witness it in 3-D. Last nights little episode was more than enough.

"Well I'll take you to the park then." Beau says grabbing ahold of my hand. I smile up at him thankfully and plod over to hug April.

"I'll come over later." I tell her and grab my phone as we leave the house.

We set off down a path just beside the road of my house.

I look around as we trudge in silence through the crispy Autumn leaves. The path begins to get narrower the further we go down and a row of sycamore trees outline the walkway. The recumbent limbs bend over us creating a small arch. It all looks so beautiful.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?" He smirks, kicking the leaves beneath his feet as he walks.

I shake my head and brush my hand across the the tree trunks beside me.

Once he notices my silence he stops and turns my body to face him.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asks, deep concern fills his eyes.

"No, it's not you trust me."

"Then what is it? Because I know you weren't crying for fresh air." He takes my hands in his. I know I can't tell him about Troye, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell him about everything else. I want to say it, but there isn't really a nice way to tell someone that your father doesn't like them.

"It's my dad." I sigh and anger flashes behind his eyes.

"What? Did he hurt you?" He panics.

"No, nothing like that it's just..." I breathe and he shakes my hands attempting to hurry my words along.

"He said that you're a bad influence. He doesn't want me to see you anymore."

He lets out a sigh of relief and a light laugh.

"You scared me then, for a minute I thought you were going to say that he raped you or something!" He laughs at his serious remark, but I don't find it funny. I shudder at thought and feel a repressed memory fighting it's way to the surface.

"That's not funny." I say and press my lips into a straight line.

"Oh, come on Ellie. I think we've already established the fact that we can't stay away from each other." Beau says, grabbing my waist.

"You don't understand, my father can be very controlling when he wants to be."

"That's only if we let him baby." He whispers.

I can't seem to find the serious side of Beau. I've seen the angry, playful, sweet and sensitive parts, but serious Beau is no where to be found. It's the only thing that I need right now, just for him to stop being so seductive and take an interest in something that needs to be settled. Maybe my father was right.