Page 10 of Frosted Hearts

Shoving the key in the lock, I get the door unlocked, pushing it open at the same time I grab Illeana's arm to pull her against me. "Don't fight me, just let me help," I demand as I help guide her into the dorm. "Which room is yours?" I question quickly, catching myself from just guiding her there. I doubt she'd question it with the alcohol in her, but I don't want to risk it. She points to the right side of the room, where a door lies open. It only takes a few steps before we're inside, and I'm helping her to lower herself to her bed. "Gimmie your feet."

She doesn't listen. Instead, choosing to try to roll over and move them even further away from me. I have to sit on the end of her bed to pin her feet in place and wrestle her boots off her. Sitting them on the floor beside the bed, I lift her body enough to pull the covers up over her body so she isn't cold. There's no way in hell I'm changing her into something comfy to sleep in. That's one line I won't be crossing for her to hold over my head. She can sleep in her dress, and when she wakes up uncomfortable, she can change herself.

When I'm positive she isn't going to roll out of bed, I move out of her room and into the kitchen. Opening several cabinets, I finally find the glasses as well as some pain meds. Filling the glass with water, I take that and the pain meds back to her room, placing them on the nightstand. I probably should have triedto get her to take the pain meds before she fell asleep, but it's too late now. I don't want to try to wake her up. Before I leave completely, I grab the small trashcan sitting next to her desk and move it near her nightstand. I doubt she's going to get sick, but just in case. With one last look at her, I turn and shut her bedroom door behind me. Writing a quick note to explain how she got home, I leave that and her keys on the kitchen counter, then leave her dorm.

Now it's finally my time to eat and get some sleep. I honestly can't wait. That Chinese food from earlier is calling my name and so is my bed. Tomorrow I can scold Illeana for being reckless and dancing with someone she doesn't know. Tonight is food and sleep, in that order.

My head feels like it's going to explode. The pounding behind my eyes is just irritated more by the sunlight streaming in through the slit between my drapes that didn't get closed all the way. Sitting up, I try to get away from the sunlight, but the movement only makes me nauseous. My eyes are open just enough to spot my desk trash can sitting beside my bed, and I have enough coordination to grab it before I puke all over the floor. There's nothing in my stomach, just bile and acid coming up, which makes me dry heave more. Placing the basket back on the floor, I squint my eyes, trying to see through the pain and figure out why I'm hearing something ring. It's muffled, but I can still make it out enough for it to be annoying. Being more careful this time, I move slowly, pushing myself up off my bed to follow the noise. When I open my bedroom door, I can hear it even louder and realize it's coming from my cell phone on the kitchen counter, right next to my keys and a note.

"Damnit," I swear, grabbing the phone to silence the call and switch the phone to vibrate. Through blurry eyes, I see I have ten missed calls and over a dozen text messages, most of which are from my father. Right when I'm about to sit my phone down onthe counter to deal with him later, the phone begins to vibrate in my hand, his name flashing on the screen. "I guess he can't take a hint."

Sighing, I answer. "Hello," I state as clearly as I can. My voice is scratchy and my throat is sore.

"Is that any way to answer the phone for your father?" he snarls. "You sound terrible, but based on the pictures circulating online that shouldn't surprise me. I expect better of you, Illeana. You have done well hiding from the public light, and not advertising your whereabouts until last night. You are to come home this instant."

"What are you talking about, Dad?" I question, trying to wrap my head around what he's saying. Sure, I went out last night, but I didn't do anything that would be terrible or anything different from what normally happens when Morgan and I go out. Okay, falling asleep at the table was out of the norm, but that's it.

"There are online pictures circulating of you. We will discuss this and your behavior when you get home. Pack your bags; you most likely will not be returning to school this semester. I gave you a chance, and you blew it, Illeana. I expected better of you. You represent me with all of your actions. If I can't control my own daughter, how can the people expect me to help them?" His disappointment in me is veiled by his anger. Of course, he is more concerned about his image. He always has been, especially since Mom died.

"Dad, I think you're blowing this out of proportion. I'll come home next weekend, and we can talk about this. Just let me stay. The semester is almost over, and I have a test this week I can't miss." I'm hoping if I remind him what's at stake, he will back down. I added a business degree to my schedule to make him happy when it was the last thing I wanted. Writing has always been my passion, but he didn't think an English degree would help me find a job.

"I don't care, Illeana. I gave you a chance to stay in school by having Steel with you. It's clear both of you fucked up, so now you are to come home. If you aren't here by dinner tonight, I will come there myself to unenroll you. Am I understood?" He leaves absolutely no room for argument, especially when he hangs up the phone.

"Ugh, this is not my day," I sigh, dropping my head to the counter. The cool kitchen counter feels good against my forehead for a few minutes before I start to get chilly. Sitting here moping won’t solve anything. I have to go to my father's. Maybe then I can argue in person and convince him to let me continue at school.

Right when I'm about to get up to shower and hope it makes me feel better, three knocks ring out against my door. I know immediately who is going to be on the other side when I open it. A small part of me contemplates ignoring him completely, but I know he isn't going to go away. Taking a couple of steps from the kitchen to the door, I pull it open. "Steel."

"Illeana," he grunts before stepping into my room and forcing me to take several steps back. "Your father called me. He wasn't too happy with either of us. Care to guess why?" I can tell by his expression he's pissed. I'm also pretty sure he's asking me a rhetorical question, so I just stand here staring at him, waiting for him to continue. "Your little outing last night is public knowledge for everyone, and he is blaming me for your actions. I don't like being woken up by someone questioning me on how I do my job."

"Well, whose fault is that?" I retort, crossing my arms over my chest. When my hands brush against the fabric of my dress from last night, I feel my cheeks getting red. Shit, I forgot I was still wearing this dress. Now it looks even worse.

"It would be yours because you insisted on going out no matter what. Now, both of us are being summoned to yourfather's house. You have an hour to get ready before we need to leave. I expect you to tell him that this was your idea. I'm not going to sit there getting yelled at because you refused to listen to me." He doesn't wait for me to answer before he turns and walks right out my door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Could this day get any worse?" I mutter, dropping my arms and slowly making my way back to my bedroom. My head is still killing me, and I have a feeling it will be all day long. When I get back in my room, I see the pain meds and water sitting on my nightstand, waiting for me. "Damn, I should have taken those earlier." Quickly grabbing them, I swallow the pills down and then move into my bathroom, stripping out of last night's dress on the way. An hour isn't long enough to feel human again, so I need to be quick.

"Don'tyou think you should have packed a little bit more?" Steel questions as he places my large suitcase and duffle bag in the back of his SUV. I packed a decent amount of clothes and some things I just didn't want to leave behind. My backpack has all my stuff for school. I'm hoping I can calm my father down and get him to allow me to come back to school or at least do some online classes for a week and then resume in person. If not, then I guess I'll be asking Morgan to pack up the rest of my things.

"It's enough. I'm hoping I won’t need the rest. Plus, I have plenty of things at home, too." I shrug and walk around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door to the back seat to lay my backpack down. Keeping my purse with me, I close the door, open the front passenger seat, and climb inside. The sooner we get there, the sooner I can get back to campus. I honestly can'twait for the day my father no longer works in the public eye. My sister and I will finally live a normal life.

"Do you want to stop for food on the way or just travel straight through? We'll make it to your father's by dinnertime," Steel explains as he gets into the front seat and starts the engine.

Right when I'm about to tell him to just drive straight through, my stomach growls loudly. "Uh, I guess food," I blush and grasp my stomach. "Something fast food. My father is not a patient man and will not accept any excuse for us being late."

"McDonald's it is then," Steel replies as he begins driving away from campus and to my doom.

Thankfully, Steel doesn't try to push the conversation, instead choosing to let me stew in my thoughts silently. The most we speak for the start of the drive is so I can give him my food order. After that, he just lets me be, which is exactly what I need. It gives me time to think about the past couple of weeks and what's led to this moment.

Maybe I shouldn't have pushed back as much against my father and his request for me to have security as I did, but as a twenty-one-year-old, I have a right to live my life the way I want. I'm an adult. It's not like I'm out partying every night or failing classes. I have one of the highest GPAs in my classes, and I rarely go out to celebrate. Usually, it's only when Morgan is dragging me out to let loose, but none of our nights out has ever made the news. I can’t believe last night, of all nights, made the news.

After finishing my chicken nuggets and fries, I grab my phone and open Facebook to try to find the pictures my father said were posted online. It doesn't take much scrolling before they show up in my feed. Picture after picture of me dancing closely with the male from last night. The pictures wouldn't look too terrible if it wasn't for how short my dress was. In a few, you can see my dress ride up dangerously close to revealing everything underneath it and show the male's hand sitting highup on my leg as well as on the bare skin. Zooming in on one of the pictures, I can even see Steel in the background staring directly at me, or well, more glaring at the male who I was dancing with. It looks like he wants to kill the guy. I guess that whole saying “if looks could kill” is true in this instance.

Shit, now I can understand why my father wasn't too thrilled. It also doesn't help that this is the first time I've had pictures like this leaked to the media. Usually, everyone here leaves me alone. No one really knows who I am since I use my mother's maiden name for everything. Someone must have found out the truth and decided to take advantage of it. Knowing that I'm going to regret it, I open the news stories to see what they wrote about me.

By the time I'm done reading through the fourth story, I'm silently crying in my seat. The story they all were spinning is completely false, saying I'm a party girl who likes to go out and get drunk nightly. Some said the guy I was dancing with is one of many that I use for all sorts of different things. Even one story alleged that the male was attached to the Silent Death Family, a large gang that runs rampant in our state. Each story couldn't be further from the truth. Well, I have no proof the guy didn't belong with the mafia, but I want to believe that even while drunk, I wouldn't do something so stupid as link myself to them in any sort of way. I know the destruction that they cause in our state in their pursuit of control. I would never put myself in a situation that would bring me close to them. Especially when I'm still not convinced that they weren't behind my mother's death. No, I wouldn't be that stupid.

"We're almost there, Illeana," Steels calls out softly, his eyes never once leaving the road to look at me. "We need to stop at Rockport Security before we head to your father's."

"Thanks," I mumble, appreciating the warning so I can gather my thoughts and get my tears under control. I need topresent a strong front to represent my family. We can't have anyone seeing a Granger cry in public. These stories are worse than anything I could have imagined, and now I see why he was so furious. It's going to take a miracle for me to talk him down and be allowed to go back to school. Pretty sure I'm about to have to become a nun just to stand a chance of finishing classes on time.

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