CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RUN AWAY

teenage girl stormed through the front door, her mind ablaze with the new information she acquired. Her heart ached because she adored a man she shouldn't, a man who was a cheater. She was mad. She was angry. She was hurting.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Cindy's breath physically left her body. Before her sat not only her mother and sister but her father too. The father that she hadn't seen in years. The man who filled her bank account as an apology for not being around.

The trio sat on the black leather couch, obviously waiting on the youngest girl. They looked as if they were preparing to have an intervention for a drug addict. The only drug Cindy had done was Duncan Shepherd.

"How nice of you to finally come home." Misty said, a blank expression on her face. She took another sip of wine from the glass she held in her right hand.

"Did you have fun in Paris with our step daddy?" Melanie chided her sister, a smirk on her face. She absolutely loved when Cindy got in trouble and she knew all hell was about to break loose.

The blonde ignored the two females, not particularly caring what they had to say. No. What she was really interested in was why Charles Saint, C.E.O. of a large technology company and her father, was in Washington D.C. Normally he resided in New York and never bothered to visit.

"Dad?" She asked, looking at him as if he was a ghost she was imagining, still not believing he sat next to his ex wife. "Why are you here?"

"Your mother called me and informed me that my youngest daughter ran off to another country with her husband." Charles answered, a disappointed look on his face. "As you can imagine, that kind of behavior is unacceptable."

The seventeen year old wanted to laugh in his face, slap him even. The man hadn't been in her life for three years and now all of a sudden he showed up and acted as if he had always been there.

"And what are you going to do?" She questioned, her voice beginning to break and a laugh beginning to form. It almost appeared as if she had gone mad. "You've been nothing more than my personal bank for three years. Not a call or a text. Just a full bank account."

Her father's lips formed a straight line as he knew some of what she said was true. However, his ego and pride didn't let himself admit that. "Well that's changing today. You're cut off."

Melanie put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape her lips. This was better than she could have ever imagined.

"Was the trip with D worth it?" She taunted, urging her sister to snap.

And snap she did. Cindy's full attention was now on her sister. Her blue eyes stared daggers at the oldest daughter and if looks could kill, she would have been dead several times over.

"Don't call him that!"

"Why? You're not the only one allowed to call him that."

"Don't pretend to give a shit about him!" The girl yelled, taking several steps forward. "You don't give a shit about anyone except yourself!"

Melanie stood up, slightly towering over Cindy. Looking down on her sister, she pressed on. "I care about our mother and the fact Duncan makes her happy!"

Before anyone could process what happening, Melanie was yelping and holding her cheek in pain. Cindy had slapped her. The eldest's cheek red and the youngest's hand stinging as proof.

"Enough!" Charles interjected, his voice louder than Cindy had ever heard it. "Both of you are acting like spoiled brats!"

"Maybe because we are!" Cindy continued, the fire in her stomach not yet out. "We have one parent who's absent and the other works all the damn time! However we always have a full bank account!"

The man closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took several deep breaths. The breathing exercises his therapist had taught him were barely helping.

"Go pack your bags, Cynthia. You're coming to love with me for the rest of the summer."

"What? No!" She argued, her temper gradually receding as he told her the plans of her future. My whole life is in Washington! You can't just uproot me and move me to New York!"

"In case you have forgotten, I am your father! Until you're eighteen, which you aren't, I am legally in charge of you. So whether you like it or not, you're moving to New York. Your mother doesn't have time to worry about her youngest child running around with older men."

"Then I'll just get emancipated!" She fought back. A few of her friends had done it and they were doing just fine.

"To get emancipated, you have to prove you have a stable source of money to live on." Misty deadpanned, the wine in her glass having been long gone. "And last time I checked, all the money you have is from your father or me."

"Grandma left me with a trust fund! I know there's more than enough money for me to live off of until I graduate."

"A trust fund you don't have access to until you turn eighteen. Which again, you aren't." Charles sighed, ready for the situation to be over.

Her options were slowly dwindling. She didn't know what she was going to do but she knew she wasn't going to go to New York without a fight. New York meant no friends... no Duncan. She was furious with Duncan but her infatuation would always overpower everything else.

Locating her keys on the counter, she quickly longed for them, managing to grab ahold of the keychain before anyone realized what she was doing. Turning around, she sprinted out the door, down the front steps, and to her car.

"Cynthia Elizabeth Blaine! Get your ass back here!" Charles yelled, his voice traveling through the normally quiet neighborhood, causing those outside to look at the commotion.

"Fuck off, Charles Drew Saint!" She returned, flicking him off before turning on her ignition. Throwing her car into drive, she sped off.

Misty finally appeared next to her ex husband, her wine glass now full again. "She'll be back. All we have to do is cancel her card."

The man was appalled by his ex wife's reaction to the whole situation. He may have not been there for his daughters but he at least cared that his youngest had practically just ran away and removed herself from the family.

Driving as quickly as she could, tears burned her eyes. Cindy had just burned down a bridge she didn't think she would be able to repair. She was so lost in her thoughts and blinded by emotions that she accidentally ran over a flower pot. Letting out an aggravated scream, she slammed on breaks.

Getting out of the car, she marched up to the owner's front door, grabbed a fifty out of her wallet, and stuck it under the welcome mat. She was a chaotic teenager, not an awful person.

Getting back into her white Jeep, she sighed, trying to collect her thoughts. After weighing her options, she decided on where she was going to go. Knowing the way by heart, she drove off.