House of Goths

Chapter 20

Despite her burning curiosity, she was almost afraid to have a look. If only she could keep her hands from shaking at the prospect of what she might find in this mysterious black box! After a series of calming breaths, and a furtive glance over her shoulder, Becky snapped it open.

She instantly froze. For a moment, she couldn't make any sense of what she'd found. If anything she was more confused than ever. The only things she recognized were a pair of fur-lined handcuffs and a rather elegant leather wand with fine twine on its tip.

On closer inspection, she found a plethora of lovely silk scarves. Under the scarves was a long, black feather, most likely from a raven's wing.

Weird. Why would Crispin have all this stuff? What did any of it mean? Was he some sort of magician?

Digging further underneath the scarves, she discovered a brochure of sorts. Perhaps this would enlighten her. Unable to resist, she flipped it open.

That's when it all became disturbingly clear! Oh, the horror! Becky couldn't believe her eyes. Not Crispin! He couldn't possibly be into this!

"Find anything you like?" Crispin asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Huh! Crispin!"

Startled beyond belief, Becky fell backwards onto her butt, dropping everything, including the brochure she'd been flipping through. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing." Seeing Becky sitting there, looking as guilty as sin, Crispin didn't know whether to laugh at her or throttle the little dormouse.

To think he'd been looking forward to seeing her. He'd just wrapped up his morning classes, decided to come home, figuring she'd be lonely all by herself. He'd even stopped at the diner and bought them both lunch. Imagine his surprise at finding the little rodent, rifling through his most private affairs.

"I... it's, um... it's not what it looks like," she said, averting her eyes.

"Oh, so you weren't snooping?" He quirked an eyebrow, staring her down with a most intimidating frown. "You weren't digging around my things?"

"Crispin, w-what is all this stuff?" she asked, turning it around on him. Yes, she was upset, and embarrassed at being caught red-handed, but what was most prevalent on her mind were the questionable contents of that box.

She was just starting to really like Crispin. She thought she could trust him. But now after realizing what all that vanilla nonsense was about, she couldn't even look at him.

"Well, Becky, since you ask..."

Before she could register what was happening, Crispin came at her, grabbed her, and tossed her onto his bed.

"Some things are just easier shown rather than explained!"

"Stop! Crispin, what are you doing?" she cried out, flailing helplessly as he effortlessly overpowered her, straddling her between his hips, while reaching into the black box. Within seconds, he had her handcuffed to the top of the very same wrought iron bed frame which she had so recently admired.

"Kelley!" she screamed, frantically.

"Kelley's not here!" Crispin hissed. "And neither is Dorian, for that matter. There's no point in calling for either of them. No one will hear you."

He reached for the silk scarves and turned himself around. "I'm the only one who can help you now." He grabbed her ankles and held them down on the bed, a little wider than a foot apart. "In fact, we have the entire house to ourselves for hours yet."