Geneva – 11

(Continued from Geneva – 10)

He stepped into the open door of the workshop as the PT Cruiser drove past. Chelsea, in the passenger seat, was looking away and Brittany was pointedly facing straight ahead steering with her right hand flipping him the bird as firmly as possible with her left. His grin was hard enough to cut stone.

Gennie came running out the door and down the steps before the car had left the yard. She hit the workshop breathless.

“I’m SO SORRY!” she cried wiping at the tears that seemed to run unbidden down her face. “I didn’t mean to invite them over-I REALLY DIDN’T! Brittany just kept calling and calling and telling me I was kidnapped…brainwashed…She was killing me!”

“What do you care what she said or what she has to say?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know…but it was just going on and on for days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it if it was bothering you that much?”

“I didn’t want it to be your problem.”

“Those girls in my house are certainly my problem. How did that happen?”

“I…I finally just told her she would quit about all that if she came to see us…How we were together. And one thing led to another.”

“And you invited her up. Sent her the GPS and brought her to my living room.”

“Please don’t make me leave. When you asked if I was packed I thought you were going to make me leave with them. I almost had a heart attack. Please, please don’t let me fuck this up.”

Moved, he stepped to her and wrapped her in his arms pulling her teary face into his chest. “You made a mistake. We’ll work it out. Your place is here as long as you want it to be.” She calmed down at that and hugged him hard. He held on as long as she wanted, then let her pull slightly back.

“That other thing, you said”, she said.

“Which?”

“The spanking. You’re not really going to spank me are you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She searched his eyes looking for the joke. “That’s not…I mean…”

“My house, my rules”, he stated simply.

She backed away from him and moved toward the door. She needed more air-was having trouble breathing.

“But what if I don’t want you to?”

“You lost that choice when you disobeyed me.”

“But I didn’t know that you would…we never talked about spanking!”

“Would that have changed what you did? Do I have to lay out the penalties for disobeying me-for breaking rules that we agreed on?”

“We never talked about this.” She shook her head. “This isn’t normal.”

“So I’ve heard. But again, my house my rules.”

Surprising them both she stomped the ground. “You realize I’m an adult don’t you?”

“She said, while stomping her foot”, he said modulating and remaining calm.

“I don’t want this! What if I just say no?”

“They’re probably not far down the road. They’d be happy to take you home with them.”

“I AM HOME!” She stomped again then half turned with her hands across her chest. Her eyes were leaking again but there was a tiny flame of defiance glowing in them along with something else. Suddenly unsure in the battle of words, he decided to disengage and get on with it. As she watched, he grabbed a stout wooden chair from the shadows with one hand and placed it determinedly between them in the sunshine. He sat on it-hands on his thighs.

“Get over here.”

She wanted to stop crying, but the tears continued to roll unabated. She stole a glance toward the house as if considering an escape. She wanted to be able to take a deep breath. She wanted to swallow. She wanted her knees to stop shaking. She wanted to turn her back on him and walk away. Instead, she did the last thing she thought she wanted to do. She turned and walked toward him.

(Continuing…)

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