Pencil, Paper and Passion.

My head was pounding incessantly when I came to. Groaning, I lifted my hand to it, trying to remember what had happened. Realization struck when I opened my eyes and saw only darkness. They put me in a closet! I sucked in a sharp breath, sitting up quickly. The throbbing in my head became more pronounced but I gritted my teeth and forced it to the back of my mind. I climbed slowly to my feet, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. When they did, I took in my surroundings. Shelves. Bottles, buckets, brooms, and mops. I was in the janitors’ supply closet.

Not for long, I thought determinedly, moving to the door and grasping the knob. It turned easily in my hand and I smirked, pushing. But the door didn’t budge. The smirk slipped from my face as I twisted the knob harder and pushed with all my might. Still, it didn’t move. I swallowed down the panic rising in my throat and let go of the doorknob. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to think rationally. The knob turned easily but the door wouldn’t open, which meant someone had locked the padlock attached to the door. On the outside. What else…?

Phone! My hands had gone to my pockets before I remembered what I was wearing. Sundresses didn’t usually come equipped with pockets and I‘d been forced to put my phone in my bag. Frantic now, I dropped to my hands and knees, searching for my book bag. If I could find my bag, I could get my phone from the side pocket and call somebody for help. When I came up empty handed, save a few discarded rags, I had to sit completely down to fight back the hysteria. What was I going to do?

I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t call for help. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, rocking back and forth. I don’t know how long I sat that way, fighting back panicked tears, but eventually I snapped. In seconds, I was on my feet and at the door, screaming.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” I used my fists to beat on the door, hoping someone would hear. “PLEASE! LET ME OUT!”

I kept beating against the door, even when my hands began to ache and sting, screaming all the while. Surely someone was still in the school and would hear! When I remembered that this hall was rarely ever used, even by the teachers, my hysteria rose higher and I beat harder on the door, open palmed. My face was soaked with tears and my screaming was impaired by the sobs tearing through my chest, but I didn’t stop. I was in full panic mode now and the only thing to stop it would be the opening of the door I was pounding on.

“P-PLEASE! HELP ME! LET! ME! OUT!” With one last wail, I slid down the door, to the floor, sobbing in earnest now. Nobody was going to come. I wasn’t getting out until morning, when, hopefully, someone came down the hallway.

I was still sobbing, beating weakly against the door with the side of my hand when I heard voices.

“Isn’t that her bag? Jesus, that’s her bag. Nick-” One panicked voice spoke quickly.

This voice was much calmer, but fear still leaked through. “Shit. Get one of the cops, Jason. Hurry!”

I recognized two of the voices and I scrambled to my feet, screaming again, “MR. GALLAGHER! MR. AVERY! I’M IN HERE! LET ME OUT, PLEASE!”

I began beating on the door again, fearful that they’d walked off and wouldn’t be able to hear me. But my hopes were answered.

“Jason! Get back here with your keys! Hurry up!” The sound of running feet and then the jingle of keys. I stopped beating on the door and laughter began to mix with my sobs. I leaned weakly against the wood, trying to calm myself down.

Mr. Avery’s voice came through the door. “Elizabeth, are you all right?”

I swallowed back another sob and managed to shout back. “I’m fine, I th-think.”

“We’ll have you out in just-”

Suddenly, there was the unmistakable sound of a set of keys hitting the floor punctuated by a curse. “Damn it! Give me those!” Ben’s voice.

Again, the keys jingled but this time it was followed by the click of the padlock opening. I could hear Ben fumbling to pull it off, then felt the door being opened. As soon as it did, I launched myself from the closet at the first person I came to and clung. Shock was setting in, I supposed, because the fear came clawing back and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

Shaking, I clung to the person, soaking their shirt. Dimly, I realized it was Ben and that Mr. Avery was talking to the other person, Jason.

“Go find one of the officers and tell them we found her. Tell them where we are and to bring one of the paramedics. Quick as you can!”

“Y-yes, sir!” Again, running feet.

As I began to calm down, I became aware of the pain in my hands and that I was clinging to my Chemistry teacher‘s shirt. Mindful of Mr. Avery, I began mumbling an apology, let go and began to step back. However, my legs weren’t ready to support my full weight and buckled beneath me. Before I could hit the floor, Ben caught me, then lowered me gently to the ground. He crouched beside me, keeping his arms around me as I continued to shake.

I looked up at Mr. Avery and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He hunkered down beside me, his head close to mine. His brow was furrowed in his unlined face and I could make out one or two silver hairs amongst the pure black. Vaguely, I realized he wasn’t very old at all. Maybe in his early thirties, if not younger. The silver in his neatly cropped hair was definitely premature. I stared at him in some confusion, wondering why I’d never noticed how young he was before. It was probably because he held a position of such authority in our school. I nodded to myself. Yes, that’s it exactly.

“Elizabeth?” Mr. Avery stared at me in worry. “Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, what?” All I could manage was the hoarse whisper.

“I asked to see your hands.”

“Oh.” I held them out. When Mr. Avery took my hands in his, I let out a hiss of pain and looked down at them. Again, I was in shock. My hands were swollen and bloody. Under the blood, I could just barely make out the beginnings of some terrible bruises. Had I beaten against the door that hard? That much? I looked at the open door and felt sick at the sight of my blood staining the wood. I quickly averted my gaze back to Mr. Avery. Without thinking, I began to list excuses. “I-I was afraid no one would hear me…”

“It’s alright, Eliza.” He assured me gently. “They’ll be fixed. You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not alright.” Ben spoke for the first time and I stared at him when I heard the fury in his voice. “It’s not even a little bit alright. I want to find the fuckers that did this.”

My eyes widened. “M-Mr. Gallagher!”

His lips tightened into a straight, uncompromising line as he turned to me. “Did you see who put you in there?”

“Ben.” Mr. Avery said crisply. “Wait until the cops get here.”

When Ben opened his mouth to retort, I nudged him sharply in the ribs with my elbow. “Stop. Please.”

He softened immediately, lifting a hand to stroke it down my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Ow!” I flinched away from his hand as a lance of pain shot through my head. I groaned and closed my eyes. “Ow…”

“What is it?” Mr. Avery asked me urgently as Ben again touched the back of my head, under the curtain of my hair this time. When an angry hiss came from his lips, I opened my eyes to see that he’d pulled his hand from my head and that it had come away bloody.

“Ugh. I didn’t realize they’d broken the skin. Is it going to need stitches?” I started to lift my hair, so one of the men could look, but Mr. Avery quickly grasped my wrists.

“Did… whoever who did this, hit you, Eliza?” His voice was urgent again.

I nodded, wincing at the slight pain it caused. “Uh, yeah. They hit me twice. Knocked me out. I wasn’t conscious when they put me in the closet.

“Who was-” Ben began, just as a dozen rushing footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway.

I looked up, unsurprised to see at least nine cops and two paramedics running towards us. Following slowly behind them was Jason, whom I now recognized as one of the school janitors. Ben and I were separated as the fell upon us and I began to panic again as a million questions were tossed at me at the same time.

“Can you tell me how this happened, miss?”

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“Can you stand?”

“Did you see your assailant’s face?”

“Was it just one person?”

“Did you accidentally lock yourself in?”

At the last question, I rolled my eyes, muttering sarcastically, “Yes, I managed to lock the padlock from the inside of the closet.”

“I’m going to need your full name for the statement, miss.”

I closed my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and let it all roll over me.

`````````````````````````````

“Wow, Eliza. Nice digs.” Brandt’s voice held no mockery as he entered the room the next day, when visitors were finally allowed in.

The day before had been filled with an ambulance ride, doctors fixing me up, and cops taking my statement. I couldn’t recall how many times I’d told the cops what had happened. I’d gone over it and over it, telling them every detail I could remember. They remained frustrated with me though, as I couldn’t remember who had done this to me. I knew the voice had been familiar, but now, I couldn’t place it. I’d wracked my brain all night long, but had had no luck bringing a face to the voice.

But now, I had other things to think about. Like what my friends would think of the room I was in. Most of the time, they pretty much ignored the fact that I was wealthy, but it was times like this, when it smacked them in the face, that made me nervous. None of my friends had a lot of money and what little they did, they worked for. I basically had it tossed at me as I sat on my ass. I didn’t want my friends to think I was just some spoiled rich girl.

I pushed the thoughts aside, calling myself stupid. They hadn’t let it bother them for twelve years, there was no reason they’d start letting it bother them now.

Still, I plucked nervously at the blanket atop me and gazed incredulously around my private hospital room. Money really did pave the road before you, oh so smoothly. The cavernous room was painted a calming lavender and held all manner of things. My hospital bed, my IV stand and the machines I was hooked up to, which were beeping away, were the center of the room. In addition, a flat screen TV hung on the wall in front of my bed, a leather couch in buttery yellow, and a very futuristic looking radio sat on a stand beside the glass doors leading to my private balcony. Every available surface was covered in vases of flowers, making the room explode in color and scent.

Embarrassed, I muttered darkly, “I feel like I’m in a hotel room.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to have the shit beat out of you to stay in a hotel room.” Charlotte, who’d come in behind Brandt, stated blandly. She moved to my bedside and, in spite of the harshness of her words, hugged me gently.

I rolled my eyes, patting her back. “Nobody ‘beat the shit’ out of me, Charles. I actually did most of the damage myself.”

It was true. My most extensive injuries were in my hands, which were bandaged neatly. I hadn’t broken any bones, but my hands were swollen, bruised, and had required stitches (I’d been told they’d dissolve on their own). My only other injury was the shallow cut on the back of my head from the two blows struck there. Surprisingly, I hadn’t even had a concussion. The doctors had only had to clean the cut and wrap a white bandage around my head.

“So,” Charlotte said, pulling away from me so Brandt could have his turn at a hug. “How’d it feel being saved by Mr. Sexy? I bet it was mega romantic.”

“Not really. In fact, I was pretty hysterical by the time Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Avery got me out.” I scooted over in the bed, so Charlotte and Brandt could sit next to me. “Plus, my hands were covered in blood, so that was probably a turn off.”

Brandt snorted. “I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“How come all you teenage girls have got a thing for Mr. Gallagher?”

Charlotte and I stared at him incredulously. She spoke first. “How? Have you not seen him?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him.” Brandt started, rolling his eyes. “And I really don’t see what the big deal is.”

“He’s perfect. He’s got that dreamy, poet look. It’s really sexy.”

I nodded and added, “Plus, he’s obviously very intelligent and his voice could definitely melt butter.”

“He can melt my butter anytime.” Charlotte purred, her lips curving up into a lusty smile.

I burst out laughing as Brandt pretended to gag. He looked at us both in disgust. “Guys. He’s your teacher.”

“And?” Charlotte asked, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s gross.”

“He’s only five years older than we are!”

“He’s a teacher!”

“Guys!” I yelled, trying to get their attention. “Can you not fight about our Chemistry teacher? Yes, he’s hot. Yes, h-he’s off limits. End of discussion.” Off limits? Right, Eliza, because you totally followed that rule!

Charlotte huffed. “Fine. I just don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.”

“Charles, please.” I pleaded, uncomfortable with the subject. I pretended to grimace, hoping they’d just shut up. “You two are making my head hurt.”

Immediately, she and Brandt were fussing over me, apologizing and asking if they should call a nurse. Exasperated, I shoved away their hands. “No! Stop it, guys. I’m fine.”

They didn’t seem to hear me and soon Brandt and I were playing tug of war over the call button. “Brandt! I don’t need a nurse! Let go, damn it!”

“They can give you something for the pain!”

“I don’t want anything! Except maybe a bat, to knock the two of you out!”

Offended, Brandt suddenly let go of the button and it flew back, hitting me in the forehead, just below the bandage. I rubbed at the sore spot, scowling at my two best friends.

Charlotte punched Brandt in the arm. “Look at what you did!”

“I did?! She’s the one who wouldn’t let go!”

“Oh, blame it on the invalid, why don’t-!”

My temper snapped and I shrieked, “Get out! Before I get any more injuries!”

“But Eliza-!” They both started whining, but I cut them off. “No! Come back when you can behave yourselves!”

With that, I crossed my arms (gingerly, so as not to jostle my hands) and glared at Charlotte and Brandt as they muttered more apologies, shuffling from the room. When they had gone, I closed my eyes and relaxed back onto the bed with a sigh of relief. They really had begun to give me a headache with their bickering.

I had to stifle a groan as I heard the door begin to open again. I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep. Hopefully, whoever it was would go away.

“Eliza?” The voice was hushed, but unmistakable.

My eyes shot open. “Tucker! What are you doing here?”

“Mother brought me. We wanted to make sure you were really okay.” He stepped into the room, hesitancy in every step. I smiled reassuringly and held out my hand. Almost immediately, he reacted. His little body shot across the room, into my open arms. I squeezed him tightly and remembered that even though he sounded thirty most of the time, he was still a ten year old boy. His voice trembled when he spoke. “Are you really okay? You’ve got bandages everywhere.”

“I’m fine, I promise. It’s just few cuts and bruises.”

“But-”

“Tucker, please don’t badger your sister. She’s hurt, remember?”

I looked up sharply to see my mother standing near the closed door. She looked uncomfortable, standing there with a gift bag in her hands, but in her eyes was actual concern. Shocked, I stared at her, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. My mother was concerned about me? She’d come to the hospital to see if I was okay? I blinked several times and muttered to myself, “What parallel universe did I wake up in?”

“What?” Tucker asked curiously, but I only shook my head at him, saying easily, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

My mother stepped up to my bedside, laying a hand on Tucker’s arm. “Sweetheart, why don’t you step outside for a moment, with Mr. Kalebrow? Have him take you to the vending machine, hm?”

Tucker nodded solemnly, then gave me a kiss on the cheek and another hard hug. He whispered fiercely, “I’m glad you’re okay.” Before I could respond, he was scrambling from the room.

I stared after him, addressing my mother curiously, “Who’s Mr. Kalebrow?”

“A new hire. I’ll introduce him later, as you’ll be spending the most time with him.”

“Uhm… why?” I eyed my mother now, suspicious. He wasn’t a therapist, was he?

“He’s a bodyguard, Elizabeth.” She said it flatly, as if she expected an argument from me.

But I was too shocked to argue. She’d hired me a bodyguard? Was she actually afraid for me? What in the hell was going on?

“Oh… kay?”

She seemed surprised. “That’s it? No comments?”

“I don’t really know what to say. Uhm… why did you hire a bodyguard?” I looked down at my bandaged hands, saying quickly, “Normally you wouldn’t care what happened to me or not.”

My mother was silent for so long, I was afraid she was too angry to speak and that she’d lash out when she regained her voice. But when I looked up, it was to see her regarding me sadly.

She smiled and it was bitter. “I know it‘s too late to change anything, Elizabeth. But the fact remains that you are my daughter, and I want you to be safe.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Alright.”

She set the gift bag on the bedside table, preparing to leave. “I wanted to let you know that I’m not closing up the house. Tucker and I are still moving, but you can stay in the house if you want. If you do, I‘ll be leaving some of the staff. Maya will stay, and the gardeners. I can spare one of the maids.”

I nodded, swallowing. They were still leaving. I’d made sure I hadn’t thought about Tucker, ever since they’d left the first time. Now, I had no choice to think about it, because they weren’t coming back this time. I didn’t want to think about my baby brother leaving, though. Who was I going to pick on? Who was going to give him the type of attention a little boy needed, instead of being treated like an adult? Who was going to sit and listen to his adult-like lectures? Our mother certainly didn’t have the patience.

My mother spoke cautiously. “I thought… I thought that you’d like it if Tucker visited. One weekend a month, and then for summer vacation, if you’re agreeable.”

My head shot up at her words and I could feel the grin spreading across my face. I nodded. “I’m agreeable. Thank you, Mother.”

She nodded. “Alright. You can e-mail me, so we can set up the dates.”

“E-mail?”

“Tucker and I are leaving today. I thought it would be best to be out of the house while you recuperated.”

“Oh. Uhm, what about the bodyguard?” Remembering the man who stood out in the hall with my brother.

“He’s been given the apartment above the garage. His instructions are to go everywhere with you, when you leave the house.”

“But what about school? I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be followed around by some guy all day. It’s weird.”

“He’ll escort you to your first class, then pick you up from your last one to escort you home.”

“Oh. Sounds reasonable.”

“I’ll introduce him.” She went to the door and gestured him in.

Instead of the hulking mass of muscle I expected, someone entirely different walked in. I stared at him, half in shock and half in fear. He was striking, in more ways than one. He was tall, at least six foot five inches, with a sleekly muscled build. His face, lightly tanned, was all angles, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. He looked young, but there were lines at the corners of his gray eyes and silver was dashed liberally through jet black hair. He was easily the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.

The eyes were cool as they regarded me, his face set blandly. However, there was an edge of violence beneath his eerily calm exterior. I swallowed.

My mother seemed unaffected. “Mr. Kalebrow, this is my daughter, Elizabeth Sinclair. Elizabeth, Noah Kalebrow.” She turned to me. “I’m leaving now. Remember to e-mail me the dates that would work best for you. Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

I pulled my eyes from Mr. Kalebrow and stared at my mother a little blankly. “Uhm. Tell Tucker I said goodbye and I love him. Goodbye, Mother.”

She nodded and exited the hospital room, leaving me alone with my new bodyguard. I shifted uneasily in my bed. “So, uh…”

He came forward and held out his hand. When he spoke, his cool voice was lightly accented. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sinclair.”

I placed my hand in his, half-expecting it to be as cool as the rest of him, and was surprised at the warmth that seeped through my bandages and the gentle grasp. Before I could say anything, he’d reached out and gathered up my other hand, examining them closely. He frowned at them. “How much damage?”

His brisk tone hastened my response. “Some stitches. Extensive bruising and swelling. No broken bones.”

“Surprising. The bones in the hand are extremely delicate and it seems as though yours took a severe beating.” As he spoke, I finally placed his accent. It was definitely Italian.

“My fault. I panicked.” I said absently, thinking that his accent only added to his extreme sex appeal.

He scoffed lightly, derision in his voice. “You were locked into a dark closet after being attacked. Panicking would be entirely understandable.”

“Uh, sure.” I raised my eyes to his, just as the door burst open. Ben stood there, fury radiating from every pore.

I stared in shock, barely registering the comical aspect of the large, purple teddy bear in his hands.

His voice was nearly a roar. “Who the hell are you?! Get your hands off of her!”

Oh no! I groaned, pulling my hands from Mr. Kalebrow’s and covering my face with them. Perfect timing! I’d have to explain who Ben was, but there was no way I could come up with an excuse for his jealous reaction to another man touching me. He’d know that something had gone on between Ben and I.

However, despite being discovered, hope was slowly blossoming inside me. If he was jealous, that meant he still cared. And that meant I still had a chance to fix our relationship.