CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Krystal
I’m almost a hundred percent asleep, dozing in James’ arms, warm in his bed, and completely satisfied.
But then that little alarm bell goes off in my head, the one with my dad’s face on it. And right at the same instant, I hear James telling me he only came to Woods End, running for Mayor so he could claim me as his?
I don’t know which one gives me a bigger jolt, knowing I have to leave and face the wrath of my dad or knowing James has been undermining my dad’s whole career from the minute he got here just so he could…
I don’t even want to think about it.
If dad loses the election, he’s lost everything, he’ll have to start over again.
I try and tell myself James loves me, that he wants to be with me, that I love him.
I do love him.
Then why would he? How could he do that to my dad, just to get closer to me?
It’s too confusing to even contemplate, and what was all that about James seeing me on TV? I’ve never been on TV in my whole life.
My perfect date and even more perfect evening has turned into what feels like a living nightmare all of a sudden.
I can’t even find my other god damned shoe for Christ’s sake.
I can feel my magic hair unraveling as I dash for my car, one shoe on and who knows where the other one is, hearing James coming after me but punching the gas and squealing down the road before it even hits me what’s happened.
What have I done?
I didn’t even ask James the million questions I have, I just blew my stack and left without even explaining anything.
Racing home, I almost dry heave with relief when I see my dad’s car isn’t there.
He’s not home yet.
I park and rush inside, sort of running and hopping up the stairs to my room where I slide out of the gown, tossing it into my closet before I get under the shower with a comb.
I rinse my hair out, combing it flat again before I start to scrub off my makeup, all the while trying to think of a reason why I should be mad at James.
I mean, a real reason.
He’s running for Mayor, not actually really trying though. He’s told me the truth, he came here for me.
I should be flattered.
Dad’s never lost an election yet, and why should he? I don’t think anyone would vote for an out of towner, even if they are as amazingly handsome as James.
Oh, I just don’t know anymore.
I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
If I stayed at James’ I’d have my dad scouring the countryside for me.
If I don’t go back to James, he’ll think I don’t love him.
He might even leave town altogether.
What do I do?
I barely have time to indulge in my existential crisis for long though. I’m not two minutes out of the shower, having just slipped into my pajamas when I hear my dad come in.
I gulp hard, freezing on the spot in the middle of my bedroom, waiting to hear him thump up the stairs, throw my door open, and demand I explain everything.
But he doesn’t.
In fact, after a few minutes, I start to wonder if I imagined hearing him come in at all.
Almost considering creeping downstairs to check if it is dad, I jump when I hear his gentle knock at my door.
“It’s just me,” he murmurs, and I move over to the door, opening it a little.
“Hi,” he says sheepishly.
“Hi,” I hear myself say, sounding like a normal person. Sounding like I haven’t just been eaten out by god’s gift to women and then stormed off like a lunatic banshee.
“Can I come in?” Dad asks, and I feel myself soften, kind of.
It’s hard to stay mad at my own dad, he’s the only family I’ve got. We’ve been through tighter spots than the past few days, and tonight I’ve discovered just how quickly things can get out of hand emotionally.
“It’s your house,” I announce, sounding way harder than I want to, moving over to my bed and sitting on the end as he slides into my room, leaving the door open.
“I had someone drive me home in my car,” he says absently. “Someone drove them back, I had a couple glasses of wines at dinner,” he admits. Like it’s something I’d judge him for.
I shrug and look up at the ceiling, feeling like I’m overdoing it, but I still can’t stop thinking about James and how I acted like such a dick in front of him.
“Have I ever been on TV dad?” I ask him, watching his expression change as he frowns before thinking about it some more.
“Uh… I guess, maybe. There was a PBS story on my time as Mayor, they did a bit from the dinner last year, and one of my speeches… why?” he asks, looking puzzled.
“Just wondering,” I chirp, pretending to yawn but knowing dad hasn’t even started with what he has to say yet.
“Look, Krystal. I’m sorry I was so hard on you earlier. I have my reasons though,” he explains.
It’s my turn to look puzzled.
He takes a breath and blows some air out of his cheeks in a ‘here goes’ moment.
“I just don’t want, I won’t have you being the center of attention with a man old enough to be… well. Old enough to be your father,” he says with the same tone of finality he used earlier when he forbid me to go to the dinner and ball.
I feel my own indignation rising again too. I’m an adult now, not a child.
“Dad,” I start to say, hearing the edge in my own voice, “Maybe you should just get some sleep, huh? It’s a big few days coming up and I-”
“I mean it, Krystal,” he snaps, his hands starting to shake as if everything he’s been holding back is bubbling over.
“I love you, I really do, but I will not have you parading yourself about town, encouraging that man. It ends today, D’you hear me? Whatever it is you think he has to offer, it’s never gonna happen,” he barks and I feel my head shaking.
My own anger coming out now.
“I’m twenty-one years old, dad. Not five, and I think if I was interested in anyone that would be my decision, not yours,” I tell him, trying not to raise my voice but failing.
“I forbid it,” he shouts, and my ears hurt to the point of ringing.
“As long as you live under my roof, you’ll follow my rules,” he says just as loudly, making for the second emotional schism I’ve had in one night.
“Fine,” I tell him coldly, “That’s easily fixed.” I get up and open my closet, kicking the gown to the back and reaching for my suitcase.
“What are you doing, Krystal?” my dad drones, looking suddenly pale.
“I’m leaving. You can keep your roof and I’ll take my car. I don’t need you telling me how to live my life, all because someone is actually running for Mayor for real this time? Got you worried, dad?” I hiss, not wanting to sound so spiteful, but feeling just as mad at James all over again now, completely giving in to my own hysterics.
James really did unplug something with that tongue of his, that’s for sure.
Trusting I’m stuffing my suitcase with some useful things, I grab my phone, chargers, purse, and laptop before I reach for my keys.
“Krystal,” My dad says, calming himself down a little, “Don’t be silly, you’re right, it’s late… Why don’t we just-”
But I’m brushing past him, wearing only my pajamas and carrying the few things of value I own, I’m determined to be free of his bossing me around once and for all.
“And good luck with your campaign, Dad. In case you haven’t noticed I’m the one who’s always done the heavy lifting around here, you just want to big-note yourself and breeze through another year of doing precious little while everyone else congratulates you,” I spit, not even caring when I see the hurt register in his eyes.
A part of me believes it, another part of me can’t believe how cruel I sound.
He doesn’t follow me. Doesn’t even try and stop me after that.
&n
bsp; My car’s still warm and in moments I’m pulling away from the house, not even feeling anything until about half a mile down the road.
It looks like rain in the windshield and I switch the wipers on, then have to rub my eyes before I finally have to pull over.
I can’t see for the tears.
Some thunder rolls ominously in the distance, even a flash of lightning.
It’s unseasonal for a storm this time of year, but it’s not every day I walk out on the two most important things in my life so far either.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
James
I stand at the end of the driveway, waiting for her to turn around and come back.
To come back to bed.
Maybe even waiting to wake up myself.
I must’ve dozed off too and because she fell asleep on my arm I’m having a bad dream.
But no.
She’s really gone.
There’s only one place she would go, home.
Home to her dad. The Mayor of Woods End. Home to do as she’s told and-
Wait a minute. Wait just a god damned minute. I told her how I feel about her. What we just shared together wasn’t my imagination either.
She probably just freaked because it’s late and she didn’t want her dad giving her a hard time.
There’s a rational explanation for all of it.
Even the part where she blew up at you for undermining her dad’s career?
Hmm. I don’t wanna think about that right now.
I replay everything in my mind, right up to the point where I can’t see her tail lights anymore.
There’s no way I wanted to put her dad out of office. I didn’t want to ruin him, did I?
Not intentionally anyway, but hearing her say it point-blank. Thinking about it now I know I’d do anything to have Krystal.
It’s true, she is the whole reason I came to Woods End, the only reason I’m running for Mayor. It’s the only reason I could think of to get me close enough to her in the first place.
But I didn’t plan to ruin her whole life in the process. I’m trying to make a life for us.
Together.
I groan loudly, not caring who hears me, and sounding like a wounded animal I tread back inside, leaning against the door until it closes.
Trying to think about what I can do to make this right, trying to think of a way I can make it up to her and explain myself better than I did tonight.
Staring into the semi-darkness isn’t helping, it only makes me see her in my mind even clearer.
I know from experience that dwelling on a problem doesn’t solve it either, and the morning after is the only time to deal with a crisis like this.
Every part of me wants to go after her, to confront her dad even, but I can’t force her to do anything. Like I said, I love her and I want her more than anything but at the same time, she has to want me as well if this is gonna work.
Tomorrow I’ll talk to her. Explain everything. I don’t want to upset her anymore but running after her and getting into it with her dad and make all this worse. I need to give her time to come to terms with us but not too much time. Tomorrow I’ll talk to her.
It’s hard to do, damn near impossible. But I climb back into bed after tearing off the remainder of my tux, pulling the covers over my head, and willing myself to sleep as I breathe in the fresh scent and memory of her all over again.
The dream of her does come, but it’s a fractured one. More like reliving the pain of seeing her go with the haunting scene of my pleasuring her beyond belief.
Until I hear the pounding on my door, mixed with what sounds like a thunderstorm raging outside.
I try and open my eyes, feeling them stuck together with sleep, wondering if the door’s blown open and banging against the wall.
Groggily I get up out of bed, suddenly cold in just my boxers.
There’s that banging again, but there’s no wind inside. I shake myself awake, determined to investigate until I feel a thrill in my chest.
“Krystal!?” I call out, racing for the door, smiling when I see the outline of a person against the glass when some more lightning flashes.
I pull the door open, wanting to get her inside more than ever, out of the cold.
Who knew they had storms this time of year in Woods End?
I say her name as I pull the door open, but my face falls.
It’s not Krystal.
“Where is she?” he snarls. “Where’s my daughter you son of a bitch!”
I look past him, half expecting to see her there, thinking maybe he’s found out and come to have it out with me once and for all.
“What do you mean, where is she?” I ask him, not believing what I’m hearing.
“She must’ve come here,” he whines, looking suddenly desperate. “She had to have come here, there’s nowhere else she would go,” he says, his voice breaking.
“Mayor Newland…” I start to say, but he pushes his way inside, out of the storm which he looks like he’s been out in for hours.
He’s soaked through.
I flick on the lights and notice his anger has been replaced with a wide-eyed, vacant look. Like something terrible’s happened.
I reach around behind my bedroom door for a robe and sitting him down after getting him a fresh towel, I ask him to tell me exactly what’s going on.
“I came home from the ball… the dinner,” he recounts. “You left, left early with your date,” he says sarcastically, his eyes darting to my bedroom door but I shake my head gently to let him know we’re alone.
“I went home. Krystal and I…” he tries to tell me.
“Well?” I ask him cuttingly, suddenly impatient.
“We had a fight. A fight about you if you must know. Always looking for a reason to see her, making her feel like you’d be interested in a girl like her,” he says bitterly.
“She’s a young girl, James. Old enough to be your daughter. Not some plaything you can flirt with,” he adds, wiping his face and hair with the towel, exhaling loudly.
I choose to keep silent about the details. About my true feelings.
If Krystal’s missing that’s all I care about, we can worry about letting dad down gently later.
Or even letting him down hard, I don’t mind.
I need my Krystal back, if she’s in trouble or if anything’s happened to her I’ll never forgive myself for letting her go like I did.
And by the look in her dad’s eyes, I can tell he’s thinking exactly the same thing but for very different reasons.
“Alright, alright,” I reason aloud. “Now think, Bob. Think. Is there any place in or even outside of town that Krystal might go if she was scared or angry? Think,” I implore him.
He scratches his chin with his thumb and puckers his whole face, screwing it up as he tries to answer the same question I can tell he’s asked himself a thousand times tonight already.
“Well?” I ask him again, not meaning to sound hard but now I’m more worried than he is. I need to find her.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” he shouts back at me, “I called the sheriff and he laughed at me, told me to wait until morning when she comes home, cold, hungry, and asking for gas money.”
I growl with disapproval.
“Where would she go?” I ask him again, standing up and looming over him, feeling like I could squeeze the answer out of him if I have to wait another second.
He takes a sharp breath in and his eyes light up for a moment.
“No,” he concludes. “She wouldn’t have, she couldn’t… It’s miles into the woods. Her car wouldn’t be able to get up there,” he adds with some conviction.
“Where?” I growl again, wanting to reach for his throat.
“Uh, the cabin in the woods we used to go to when she was a kid. Before her mother…” he falls awfully quiet awfully quickly.
“We haven’t been there in fifteen years, I doubt she’d even-”
I grab him by the arm, yanking h
im to his feet. “Where?” I snarl at him, watching him gulp before he mumbles something about showing me the way.
I dress quickly but sensibly, grateful I packed jeans and boots as well as a waterproof coat for my trip to Woods End.
Bob Newland’s already looking like he’s suffering from exposing himself to the elements. I grab a couple of blankets from the closet and some more towels for him, informing him we’ll take my car.
“I have a flashlight,” he offers, and I wait impatiently for him to grab whatever gear he wants to take from his car before we head off, the rain really coming down now.
“It never gets like this, not this time of year,” he mumbles as he sniffs to himself, giving me short and silent directions as we go, which roads to take that lead us out of town and past the woods, up into the hills beyond.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he finally says. “I know you couldn’t possibly have designs on Krystal. It’s a stupid thing to say. I just thought… Well, with you running for Mayor and all I guess I felt threatened on both fronts. Like I said, stupid, huh?” he asks, his teeth starting to chatter as I flick the heating on for his benefit.
I don’t say a word, just follow his directions until I feel the car sliding on the mud-soaked track that leads up to the old cabin in the woods.
Hoping, praying this isn’t really where Krystal’s been driving but knowing deep in my heart that she has.
That she’s in trouble and she needs me.
Hang on baby, I’m coming.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Krystal
The rain gets heavier and the thunder closer.
Parked on the shoulder of the road just outside of the town limits, I have some choices to make.
I’m so tired though, mentally and emotionally. It’s an effort to keep my eyes open with them stinging from my tears.
Groaning to myself, I remember my unstable finances too. I have the emergency credit card, but that’ll only last so long.
I haven’t thought any of this through at all.
I should just turn around, go back to James, apologize, and hope he can help me.
But there’s a stubborn streak in me I probably get from my dad. Even when I’m wrong or know I’m overreacting I still have to be right.
Electing For her Curves: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 9