“Pardon? What was that, little mouse?” he asked in a rather menacing manner.
To her horror, her stomach decided to speak for her with a most unfortunate but undeniable loud grumble. Then if that wasn’t bad enough, Crispin burst into laughter! So much so, he had to bend over to catch his breath.
Mortified, Becky ran past him and dove back into bed, pulling the quilt over her eyes. The heck with him! He could laugh all he wanted. Jackass!
Sadly, though, she was actually quite hungry but way too humiliated to do anything about it.
A little less than a half hour later, Becky was paid a surprise visit from none other than her self-appointed nemesis. Without knocking, Crispin entered her room with who could have imagined it, a steaming bowl of soup on a tray.
“What have you got there?” Becky asked, sitting up in bed. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful and her belly roared to life once again.
Crispin stood at the side of her bed and rolled his eyes at her. She had that all too familiar frown on her face. Could she not show him the least bit of gratitude? He’d gone over and above the call of duty here.
“Chicken soup, just what the doctor ordered,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and placing the tray on her lap.
Becky looked skeptically from him to the bowl of soup. She hesitantly picked up the spoon and spun it around slowly in the yummy smelling substance. What was he up to? This wasn’t like him at all.
“Well, go on,” he said with a furrowed brow. “I didn’t lace it with rat poison or anything.”
The thought did cross her mind, but she was so hungry that she would risk it. She gingerly scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her mouth.
“Careful…” He winced, watching her. “It might be too hot.”
It was hot, way too hot. So much so that she flinched when the liquid touched her lips, causing her to dribble some down her chin.
“Oh, now see what you’ve done,” he said with an exasperated sigh.
“Sorry…” she said defeatedly. She was a mess. She couldn’t even manage to feed herself.
“Never mind,” he said in an unexpected gentler tone, taking the spoon from her. “Here, let’s just take care of this first.” Using the tea towel he’d brought upstairs, he wiped her chin and then proceeded to tuck it into her shirt collar, creating a bib of sorts. “There, now let’s just give this a proper stir.”
Becky didn’t know what to think anymore. Who was this suddenly compassionate Goth, and what had he done with Crispin? She watched as he proceeded to blow into the bowl in an effort to cool its contents.
“It should be just fine now,” he said, handing her the spoon.
“Thanks…” she said, taking it from him. Since he didn’t seem interested in leaving anytime soon, Becky helped herself. After three hardy spoonfuls of the heavenly stuff, she had to stop and catch her breath. “So good…” she said, sitting back.
“I’ll be sure to let Campbell’s know how much you like it,” he said with a hint of that old familiar mischief in his voice. “Have some more.” The girl was obviously still stuffed up. Whatever ailed her still lingered. She wasn’t quite right yet, but at least, she’d gotten her appetite back. For a moment, he watched her breathe in and out through her mouth.
One day soon, she would be well enough to leave the House of Goths. For Crispin, that day couldn’t come soon enough. As it was, his housemates were getting way too attached to the little imp, and that just wouldn’t do. Better to rip the bandage off quickly, isn’t that what they say? Perhaps after a few more spoonfuls of soup, he would show her the list of prospective lodgings that he’d procured for her.
“Okay,” she said as much to herself as to him. Putting in a real effort, she managed to get through, at least, half of the soup before giving up.
“It’s all right. You don’t want to overdo it,” he said, carefully taking the tray and placing it down on the floor. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked with a sugar-laced voice.
“Better, but not one hundred percent,” she said with a shrug.
“Right, well, how about I leave this here with you? You might want to give it another go in a bit.”
“That would be great. Thanks, Crispin. That was very kind of you,” she said with a wary smile.
Crispin hesitated but then simply gave her a polite nod. “Becky, I have something you might like to look over.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll go get it. It’s in my room,” he said, giving her thigh a gentle tap as he got up and left.
Confused but grateful, Becky sat quietly awaiting his return. In the meantime, her mind started to race. She had missed so many classes. She would never be able to catch up on her assignments. How could she have gotten sick? She was never sick, not like this. Just the thought of how pathetically helpless she’d been made her wince. How could things have gotten so… embarrassing?
Enthused and quite pleased with himself, Crispin took his list and returned to Becky’s room. With so many options, she would soon be all better and out of their hair, once and for all.
He sat back down on the edge of her bed and proudly presented her with the list. She glanced absently at the sheet of paper on her lap, an odd look on her face.
“What’s this?” she asked quietly.
“That is a list of available rentals near the university,” he stated with a determined nod. “If and when you’re feeling better, you may pick one. Please feel free to move on. Until then, you can have a glance at it and think about which ones you’d like to pursue.”
“Oh…” she said with an unexpected sob. No wonder he was being so nice. He just wanted her better so that he could be rid of her. “Thanks…”
What? What was that? He frowned at the unmistakable sound. And that… that quiver on her bottom lip? Oh no no no. This could not be happening. Crispin recoiled at the sight of her misery. “Now see here! Crying will not work on me, young miss. You put that bottom lip back in its place, right this instant! Besides, we’ve already discussed the matter. Everyone agrees that you cannot stay here.”
“It’s not that…” she said, wiping away a stray tear.
“Well, what is it then? Dare I ask?” he said, reluctantly relaxing his posture.
She hesitated at first, blinking her eyes at the enigmatic Goth, unsure of how to tell him the truth. Instinctively, Crispin leaned in closer, silently encouraging her to speak.
“They saw me naked,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.
“Pardon, did you say…”
“Yes, naked,” she repeated a tad louder, turning a bright shade of red.
“What? Who?” he asked, looking around himself.
She tugged the tea towel from her shirt and looked down sheepishly at herself. “Somebody… took my pyjamas off and dressed me in this t-shirt,” she whispered, averting her eyes from him.
At that statement, Crispin simply froze. His mind racing with opportunity. Here was something he could definitely use to his advantage. He would use her humility to send her on her way. That was it! Of course, he’d have to tread carefully.
“Yes… well, I suppose I can understand how you’d be upset about that,” he said, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing. The expression on her face was priceless. “You see this is just an example of the very thing we discussed at the trial the other day. It just simply wouldn’t do for you to remain here. Especially now. You must feel so uncomfortable.”
He watched as she nodded in silent acknowledgement, her bottom lip doing that miserable little trembly thing. Not able to stand what that did to his insides, he quickly threw in, “Now, sweetheart, I’m sure it was all purely medicinal in nature. You can rest assured that nothing untoward was done to your person.”
“Who?” she asked, not meeting his eyes.
“All I can tell you is that it was definitely not me,” he stated confidently. “In fact, I came nowhere near you.” Except, of course, for the odd time with a glass of water
, but she didn’t have to know that.
In the very next moment, the unmistakable sound of Kell and Dorian’s return rattled through the old house. “Aw… here come the culprits now,” Crispin said with a sigh of relief.
Becky instantly hiked up the quilt around her. Crispin caught her flinch when she heard their voices downstairs. How curious, suddenly it wasn’t him that caused her to react thusly. He could hear them now, clambering up the stairs, curious to visit their sickly houseguest.
“I don’t want to see them,” she squeaked as Crispin stood up.
“Come on now, you don’t mean that. They’ll be hurt,” Crispin said with a sly smile. His plan was working! How opportune a situation! “But, of course, I understand. I’ll let them know how you feel.” Exiting the room, he caught his concerned housemates just outside her door.
“Hey, how’s she doing?” Kell asked, frowning at the unexpected sight of Crispin leaving her room.
“Better… at least physically,” Crispin said, blocking the door.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kell asked.
“Move out of the way, Crisp,” Dorian said, raising a pierced eyebrow.
“I don’t think so,” Crispin said, simply crossing his arms and steeling his stance.
“Move or prepare to be moved,” Kell growled angrily. “I swear if you’ve done anything…”
“You see, that’s where you’re wrong, Kell,” Crispin sneered back. “I’m afraid it’s you two who have done it this time. So much so that our little Becky refuses to see you at this moment.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kell said with a baffled frown.
Crispin took a dramatic breath in and out, slowly shaking his head in disapproval. “Come, let’s discuss this in your room, Kell.”
“Crispin, I don’t have time for your shit right now. Just out with it, man!”
“Fine, have it your way.” With a resolute sigh, Crispin leaned in and whispered very quietly, “Seems our little houseguest is upset with you both.”
“Upset? Why?” Dorian asked, devastated.
“I’m afraid she has taken issue with the fact that one or two of you may have taken an unsolicited peek at her girlie bits while she was unconscious.” Crispin barely got the words out before giving into the giggles.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Kell scoffed, giving his head a shake. “Is that all this is about?”
“But we had too,” Dorian said defensively. “Well, Kell did anyway. It couldn’t be avoided, could it?”
“Nevertheless, she does not want to see or speak to either of you lotharios,” Crispin said, unsuccessfully stifling his humour.
“This is ridiculous!” Kell shoved Crispin out of the way.
Crispin didn’t put up a fight. Instead, he carried on chuckling all the way into his room. When he got there, he couldn’t help but fall into his bed, still in fits of laughter. He hadn’t laughed this much in years. He would never admit it out loud, but it felt damn good, not very Goth of him, but so what.
When Dorian attempted to follow Kell into Becky’s room, Kell turned and frowned at him. “Better let me handle this.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Kell.” Relieved of the uncomfortable task, Dorian ran a hand through his floppy mohawk and left him to it.
Without bothering to knock, Kell opened the door a crack and poked his head into her room. He found her lying in bed with the quilt tucked high under her chin, her eyes downturned, a disapproving pout on her face.
“Hello,” he said, entering the room without waiting to be acknowledged. He then sat down at the edge of the bed and noticed the half eaten bowl of soup on the tray. “You had something to eat? Did you get it yourself?” he asked, both curious and relieved. She hadn’t eaten much at all this past week. He had started to worry that she might never recover.
She gave her head the tiniest of shakes. “Crispin….”
Kell raised his eyebrows at the news. Well, who would have thought it? He must be up to something. It wasn’t like Crispin to be so… selfless. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, attempting to place his hand over her forehead.
Becky flinched away from his hand and met his eyes with a look of mistrust. How dare he act like everything was okay between them? How dare he look so handsome, sitting there in his dark militia inspired Goth gear? “A little bit, yes,” she replied, grappling the rolled up piece of paper in her hand.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Kell asked, curious.
“A list of rooms for rent,” she said, handing it to him. “Crispin was nice enough to find them for me.”
Ah ha, now that sounded like Crispin, Kell thought, taking the list from her and having a quick glance. He raised an eyebrow at some of the proposed residences. He recognized some of the addresses. Not exactly ideal situations for a girl like Becky. Besides, he and Dorian had come to the conclusion that they would be all right with Becky staying here. The thought of turning the little imp out into the unknown no longer suited him. The fuck with Crispin. This was his house first and foremost. Therefore, the decision was ultimately his to make.
Becky watched him as he read the list. She studied his profile, his chiselled features draped behind a curtain of black hair, fringed with blood-red streaks. His left hand held the list, his right hand was fisted under his chin. After a moment, he frowned and crumpled the piece of paper, shooting it across the room.
“What did do you that for?” she protested, sitting up, attempting to go after the strewn ball of paper.
“Hey… no,” he said, snapping out of his thoughts, placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her gently but firmly back into bed. “Never mind that now.”
“But I need that,” she protested weakly. She didn’t fight him when he tucked the quilt back around her. “You don’t want me here.”
“Sh…” he hushed her. “You’re not quite ready to go anywhere.”
She looked at him, doubt and hope, clashing in her green eyes. Then she frowned and averted her gaze. “What’s the matter, love?” he asked, hoping for her to simply tell him what weighed heaviest on her mind. He knew already what it was. Yes, he had undressed her. It was true. He’d had to. He couldn’t have just let her wallow in sweaty sheets and pyjamas all week, could he?
When she didn’t answer, he felt compelled to fill in the blanks for her. “Crispin informs me that you’re upset over the fact that I had to undress you,” he said, looking at her face, watching for a reaction.
She nodded and shrugged, looking bereft and miserable. “I’m sorry,” he said, chucking her gently under the chin with his index finger. “I had to.”
“So, it was you?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Just you?” she asked, meeting his obsidian eyes for a mere moment before looking away while plucking at imaginary lint on the quilt.
“Just me,” he said with a soft smile. Dorian had offered to help, but while Kell was grateful for his assistance in every other way, in that respect, he only trusted himself.
“Trust me, love. Nothing bad happened to you while you were unconscious. Nothing inappropriate took place.” He smiled fondly at the memory of how incredibly helpless she’d been the entire time while under his care. There had been moments when she’d clung to him so fiercely. Times when she’d burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, trembling with fevered chills. He had never felt so needed, so important to anyone before.
Of course, if he’d been an evil bastard, he could have so easily taken advantage of her. She’d been so out of it and helpless. She wouldn’t have even known. The unsettling thought disturbed him to no end.
“Please, believe me when I tell you that it couldn’t be avoided. I couldn’t just let you lie there bathed in sweat.”
She furrowed her brow, blinked a few times then bravely met his gaze. “Thank you, Kelley.”
Oh… there it was again, his name, spoken in such a way that melted him through. That husky velvety voice of hers did things to
his insides that he would rather not feel at this moment in time.
“I’m so sorry too,” she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his forearm.
“Sorry for what exactly?” he asked, giving her an indulgent smile.
“For getting sick. For being such a bother, and now for making you feel bad for looking after me.” She sniffed, looking miserable.
“Never mind all that.” He placed his left hand over hers. “Just you get better, okay?”
“Yes…” she said wistfully. “I’m so terribly behind in my classes. I’ll never catch up.”
“Don’t worry about your classes now. You’re not alone in this malady. Apparently there’s been quite the epidemic throughout the university. Even most of the faculty have been taken down by it. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, even our dear Mr. Findley hasn’t been spared.”
“Our life drawing instructor?” she said, recalling fondly the first day they’d met. “You’re okay, though? I mean, I haven’t infected you, have I?”
“No,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Been there, done that. In fact, Crispin, Dorian and I had the same thing a couple weeks ago so we’re all quite immune now.”
“Good,” she said, relaxing back into bed, suddenly tired from her recent exertions. “Perhaps I’ll doze for a little bit.”
“You do that,” Kell said as he stood up. “I’ll take this out of your way. It’s cold now anyway.” He took the soup, picked up the balled up list, and turned off the light.
***
Later that night, Kell joined Dorian and Crispin in the living room. For a moment, he looked forward to doing something normal, relaxing with the guys, watching television. It had been a stressful week. He hadn’t realized it until now but looking after Becky had been quite the task. He’d been pretty worried about her. There were times when he’d been very close to taking her to the hospital. Buoyed by her apparent return to the living, he finally felt the tension leave his muscles.
He couldn’t help but snicker at the latest slasher movie the guys were enthralled in.
House of Goths Page 5
