Life, Love & The Forbidden

Two Weeks Later (Pt. 2)

Frank Tancredi was fuming as he pulled his body up the stairs, his leather shoes tapping their metal soles on the marble floor beneath his feet. He roughly gripped the circular handrail, his fingers turning white as he squeezed them closed around it. His jaw twitched, as he thought of his daughter alone with a guy in her room. The maid had told him as soon as he had walked in the door.

He didn't knock. Instead he pushed down on the cold chrome handle and threw open the door which clattered to a halt on the doorframe. It was a silent motion, the sound of his angry action muffled by the door scraping on the expensive carpet. He stepped into her room, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and his tie wrenched loose around his neck. His eyes scanned the room before falling on her figure by the window.

Sara jumped back and spun around to look at her father. He was like a bull, his shoulders hunched and his eyes were dark and empty. They darted two and fro around her room, resting on her briefly before glaring out the open window. His footstep fell silent on the carpet as he strode to the large open sash window, her light net curtains blowing into the room with a slight breeze.

"Daddy..." Sara began in mock surprise as he leant down on the frame and pushed his heavy frame through the open gap. Frank scanned the grounds, looking for any sign of a guy that might have been near his daughter. The damp grass below the tree was disturbed and some bark was chipped from the old oak's branches. Frank inhaled hard, clenching his back teeth tightly shut.

"Who was it?" he demanded, spinning to face Sara. Sara looked at him dumbfounded, her fake frown not fooling him one bit. "Sara, I know someone was here," he told her, his stare full of hatred and tenacity. His fists balled at his sides and his eyes kept scanning the room for signs he was right.

"Who was who?" Sara played the dumb card, striding past her father and taking up residence beside her laptop. "I was doing homework," she told him with a falsified giggle, her heart beating faster in her chest as she lied.

Frank's eyes shot to the flat panel beside her, a sheet of paper clearly displaying some sort of essay. His gaze fell on her once again, his little girl who had always been smarter than he was, was beating him in a game of wit. She gave him a weak smile, shaking her head slightly to propel a hair from her face. That was when Frank saw it, and his eyes widened as he closed the gap between then with two huge strides.

Sara suddenly felt a rush of fear as his heavy, weathered hands reached up and pushed her hair roughly from her neck. Sara's hand darted up to stop it, combing her hair back over her bruised neck. She blushed, her cheeks filling with blood, as her father just stared at his hand resting gently by her neck.

"It's not what you think it is," Sara broke the silence, having had time to fabricate an excuse. Frank pulled a shaky hand back from her and ran it through his short, receding hair. He dragged it back to his face, covering his closed eyes with a flat palm. "It's a bite," she told him quickly.

Frank laughed low in his chest, his hand still covering his eyes. Sara realised how bad her excuse sounded and she cursed her brain. Frank sighed before taking his hand from his brow, running it down his face and over his open mouth, cupping his stubbly chin. "I wasn't born yesterday Sara," he told her sternly, not looking at her.

Sara shifted her eyes from her father. She couldn't look at him while he was angry. She hadn't meant for this to happen and she didn't enjoy it, but her father had found out and she couldn't see any way out. She flopped sideways into her desk chair, draping her arm over the back of the chair. The silence between them returned as both of them thought about what had just happened.

Frank's mind raced. His baby, his only family, his everything was growing up. Had grown up. There was no way he could stop her now but as a parents it was his duty to try. This was how things were supposed to be. The child would rebel and the parents would become the enemy in a vicious battle for supremacy. Frank raised his head, puffed out his chest and rested his hands on his hips. Sara's eyes came up to meet his as he spoke.

"This ends right now," he told her pacing forward, a menacing finger pointing straight at her. "I forbid you to see him ever again," he bellowed, throwing his finger towards the open window as if it were the culprit. Sara felt a pang in the pit of her stomach and her eyes burned as tears welled in them.

"You can't stop me," she told him calmly but firmly, sniffing gently as her sinus reacted to her tears, blocking as they rolled down her cheeks. Frank let out a nervous laugh, putting his hand back on his hip and turning from her. "I love him," she told him, surprising herself with her words.

Frank's heels dug into the cream carpet as he turned, rushing at Sara until he was inches from her face. Sara's jumped back in her chair, crushing her eyelids together in fear. "Love?" he roared in a high-pitched voice. Sara's body shook as her crying intensified and her father's words vibrated through her body. "You're sixteen years old! You have no idea what love is," he shouted, gripping her shoulders roughly.

Sara peeled her eyes open and for the first time saw her father's fear. It shone from his eyes, illuminating his face and making him seem smaller than he was. He might be one of the most powerful people in Chicago but at this moment in time he was just as lost as the rest of the world. Sara shook herself from his grasp and wiped away her tears hurriedly with a trembling hand.

"I love him," she told him defiantly, staring straight into his blackened gaze. Frank pushed himself up, standing straight and tall above his daughter. His eyes narrowed and his arms crossed his chest as he bore down at her. If he couldn't stop them with reason, he would have to tear them apart.

"Then you are not to leave this house without my permission," his voice was low as it delivered his ultimatum and Sara jumped up in protest.

"That's not fair!" she screamed at him, her arms mirroring his across her chest.

"And you will be on a curfew," he added, using his political business voice. Sara's chest heaved as more tears threatened to fall but she clenched her jaw to try and stop them. She didn't want her father to see how his new ruling had affected her because the more fuss she made the longer he would implement it. "You are to come home straight from school," he trod past her his now uncrossed arms pointing at the floor in anger as he reached her door. He did not look at her because she was not who he had known this morning when he left the house.

"Dad this isn't fair," Sara snivelled, pleading with her quivery voice. Frank stood fast; pulling the door closed half way as he stepped out into the hall.

"Do I make myself clear?" he asked her quietly, his hand gripping the door handle in anger as he thought about his daughter being violated by the fiend she supposedly loved. Sara snapped her head away from her father and ignored his question. "Do I make myself clear Sara?" he barked.

"Yes sir," she whispered through gritted teeth, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Good," Frank shot back as he pulled the door closed, slamming it to the frame.

The bang echoed through the mansion and Sara collapsed onto her bed, pushing her face into the feather pillow she clutched to herself. Her tears fell on the cotton pillowcase, staining the dark purple fabric so it turned black where it was wet. Black like her father's heart and black like the void that suddenly surrounded hers.