The Runaway (10 page)

“Err
... I wanted to apologise for, you know, sleeping off like that!”

Richard laughed. It was so clear, a resonating laughter that broke through all those walls and fences and pierced through the cold heart whose beats she was wont to ignoring. She was touched. Almost literally. Unnerved and stunned, all she could do was go back to staring at the bed sheet.

“Ok then! It’s almost noon. I’d drive you home. Then again, even though three’s a charm, I don’t want to find out, and have you sleeping on me again and crushing my hopes!”

Brooke didn’t think.
She didn’t pause to register her actions. She walked to the couch and kissed him – maybe it was the adrenaline after the hard running, or that she was still shaking after the panic attack. Or just the heady effect that his laughter had on her mind. Or the need that shot painfully through every cell in her, screaming for the world to stop for a while. She didn’t dwell on it much. Not when the warmth from his lips spread throughout her body like brandy, and sparks of electricity breathed life into her skin wherever his hands touched her. It had been so long since she felt anything at all, leave alone feeling wanted. The void that stretched inside her was swallowing her up from the inside, like a black hole as she was slowly losing the meaning of existence. She was becoming a spectator to her own life passing by, meaninglessly, each day, hiding and running around pointlessly. She wanted it to stop. She wanted a strong pillar to hold onto and stop. And that was what she felt exactly as Richard lifted her and carried her back to the bed. The world stopped its noisy interference in her mind, as she lost herself in the moment of urgent need to fill in the void. In that suspended time frame, she ceased to be the runaway twisted daughter of a murderer, the reason that so many people had suffered. She was just a girl. A woman.

She tasted her salty tears on his lips, and the brush of his unshaven cheeks on her face. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair, grasping at all she could to hold on to feeling so human. In all the past flings that she had subjected herself to, in search of that elusive high of being alive, never had she experienced the depths of her depravity, the needs of her desolation in another. She felt it in his touch, in his need. It welled up inside her, and poured forth freely. Rick didn’t stop her from crying, he didn’t attempt at reassuring her. He let his warmth envelope her and lock her in a chamber with no doors to the outside world. She closed her eyes, contrary to what she did usually, and let him take over and fill in every recess, every corner of
darkness within her. His clean air, and untainted essence flowed in through her and temporarily broke her ice cold slumber.

Richard sat up breathing heavily. He had drifted off for a few minutes or so, but the gravity of what had just happened slapped across him even in his little nap. He stared at the sleeping form beside him. She looked so serene – sans the crude language, the anger, and the solitude. Tangled in sweat, blankets and her long mane of hair, she looked heartbreakingly vulnerable. It wasn’t like he
didn’t realise what was happening between them, but, now, it was crashing down on him gradually, with a deafening noise that cut out other senses. He jogged into his bathroom and sat down to smoke. What the fuck was he thinking? Of everything he could possibly have done, he just slept with her. No hesitance, no qualms, he just gave in – as, frankly, he had wanted her that badly to give in too. She looked so irresistible in his bed, that he had been praying for her to leave before he lost his senses and did something stupid. He hadn’t expected this! Not that she would taste so undeniably sweet, that she would mould in against him so easily, with so much passion. And that it would feel so devastatingly right to hold her. He needed help. He definitely needed psychiatric help. He hoped it was the hero complex that prompted him to not hold back and kiss her back – even if that in itself was a twisted explanation. But he knew, he knew that he succumbed to what he felt for her, he wanted to know how she would taste, he wanted to stoke that fire in her and burn in it willingly. He was dying to feel her touch him, get any part of her that would come his way. All this while, what with the running around, and the no rest routine he usually followed, she was like heroine or LSD that zapped the reason out of him till all that was left inside was her fragrance tantalising him from within. I am a sick psycho, he kept repeating to himself. He would never be able to confront her now, or James. Fuck! James! He groaned and flushed down the cigarette stubs. He splashed some cool water on his face, and waited till he was sure that she had walked out. He wasn’t afraid exactly, but he knew she wouldn’t want him around to comfort her now.

So this is what sleeping blissfully is, Brooke thought as she yawned and sat up. She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept for 3 hours straight without waking even once. She was still so comfortably nestled. And then reality thrashed back. She groaned audibly. She so shouldn’t have done that. No wonder she hated having people around when she was the weakest, she grabbed onto whatever was closest to come back to sanity. She hoped he wasn’t the clingy types, and he wouldn’t think that this meant
there was something between them. But then, he is smart, if he isn’t around now to give me coffee or something! Thank the heavens. Brooke wanted to be left alone, and chivalry was an absolute no as of now. Someone like James would’ve wanted to see her off, and made sure she was alright till she reached home. She hated that. She was in distress. Of the blasphemy and the betrayal of life. But she wasn’t a damsel in distress. She didn’t know what she was expecting from life, or from fate. She was confused. As she walked back home, she welcomed the sting of the cold winds in the woods. This place revived her, and washed off any stains of human association and left her calmed.

A number of days just flashed by in doing nothing – nothing productive anyway. Richard could actually get used to this sort of living. He glanced over at Brooke and Martha in the kitchen garden. He wondered if Brooke could ever confide in her about her past demons, to find some peace. Having witnessed two fits already, he was pretty sure she was not enjoying peaceful slumbers, and was still being haunted by dark memories. How would he ever achieve to be close enough to her, so that she can open up? He kept saying that this would benefit to straighten out the facts for his book, but he knew that what he wanted more was for her to find some relief. He was sure she had shed the initial abhorrence she harboured for him, but considering him as a friend would take a century or so. Especially after having slept together! Total idiot move.

“Do you like tripe?”

He had no idea what that was, but simply nodded. Martha came in covered in soil and pieces of vegetables stuck to her head, and headed over to chopping the vegetables and Brooke had busied herself with the mushrooms. He couldn’t think of anything he could help with, so he went back to observing Brooke from beneath his lashes. He went over in his head, multitudes of lines to start a proper conversation that could lead her to talk of her childhood days, or something personal, so that the trust building exercise could at least kick start.

“Rick, did you find a place to move in yet?”

Richard whipped around to find a smiling Martha, peeling potatoes. “I thought you weren’t serious!!”

She shrugged and went in to check the oven’s temperature.

“Brooke! You have a large enough house, and I worry sick about you. Why don’t you let Rick move in for the rest of his stay!!?”

The temperature seemed to have risen by a few notches in the kitchen. Brooke froze with the bottle that she had been drinking beer from, and Richard
too, with the newspaper that he held upside down. Martha walked into the room where time appeared to have stopped. She looked from one to other and suppressed a chuckle. She was rather enjoying this game.

“Don’t act scandalised Rick, I’m pretty sure, this is common from wherever you are!”

Brooke turned around slowly. Requests from Martha she could hardly turn down. She was the only person in the entire town who treated her like any other human being. But allow a man to move in with her, a stranger was out of the question. Yet strangely, she failed to find the words to explain this to her. Not to mention that it would sound utterly rude to both Rick and Martha. Did she want to know about him more? Would she be OK to disclose her wholesome paranoia in front of a third party – not that he hasn’t had a taste of it earlier. And what would James think of it? Where did that come from!! She was losing her mind, slowly and steadily, but completely. She shook her head vehemently, “What would the townsfolk think? I’m already like the epitome of what they don’t want their daughters to be. Ever.”

Richard winced, both at her strong disapproval and her casual reference to what people thought of her. It was certainly an opportunity served on a gold platter to him – stay close enough to her for observations, and well, he could obviously influence her to talk to him about her days in Walhalla. Right! That confidence felt good for a change. And also the fact that he would be near her. But then the risk factor was too great, as somehow, his senses g
ot over burdened whenever she was close enough, and he could afford no other dumbass move.

“Why are you so hesitant? Not like you care a dime about what people think here!!”

“Still..! He wouldn’t like the isolation in any case. I live way off the town. Isn’t it Rick?”

That was the first time she addressed him, well, after the feat they had pulled off together.

“I just want a place to stay… I don’t care where...”

“Who amongst the people are you particularly talking about?”

Richard stopped at Martha’s innocent question. James. How could he forget? He couldn’t, kind of back stab him, twice. He’d been the sole friend he had here. He would never be OK with this. And judging by Brooke’s expressions, he had hit bang on. He wasn’t sure why the revelation didn’t feel good. But well, facts remain, and it was highly unlikely, the arrangement would work out in everyone’s favour. Brooke stalked out to the garden to fetch some more garlic.

“She needs watching over… sometimes!”

“I am definitely not the hero sorts, Martha. I don’t take care of people! So stop whatever you are trying to achieve by making me stay with her. As she definitely doesn’t like this. And I would really like to remain whole after my trip here has ended.”

“Give yourself credit. You know you helped her out, at times that she hates to have anyone around her. It’s a miracle she even let you help her...”

“She didn’t have a choice, as she was busy being passed out for Christ’s sake!”

“No one in this town will acknowledge her presence, neither will they help her, ever. They need others to survive here. Not you. She is left alone, with god knows what past demons every night that she fights. She needs help. That much is, I think, pretty evident. Rest, whatever you decide!”

Good card played, Martha, Richard grumbled in his mind. Moral dilemma. Deny her, and you come out to be an insensitive bastard. Say yes, and you run the risk of being pummelled by Brooke. He was saved by his mobile buzzing in his pocket. He excused himself and walked over to the front yard. Natasha went into a screaming rant about his callousness, and his increasing obsession of pushing people who care about him away. Well, couldn’t argue with that, he thought listening to it all with as much regret he could muster. Not that his silence was of any help – it further spurred Natasha to blame him for not having people around, or wanting to develop healthy relationships. And the tirade ended with an ultimatum for submitting his manuscript, or whatever excuse he had for being at the end of the world before the fortnight was over. Richard calmed himself with deep breaths, and tried to reason out with her without jeopardising Brooke’s whereabouts. No, he wasn’t feeling guilty, he owed nothing to Natasha. But he could tell by her tone that she suspected him. He told her he was close to getting all the facts required, but he needed more time with the source. He was sure, she wouldn’t want to let the bestselling author of the firm go. But he thought it best to not ruffle her feathers too much. After consequent rants on his irresponsibility, he got an extended time period. Heaving a sigh of relief, and now burdened with the how and why to the promise he just made to Natasha.

The kitchen was filled with an air of what he had just experienced outside – forced peace and ceasefire. He had half his mind to wait in the living room till lunch was ready. He would’ve done that exactly, if Martha hadn’t called him back.

“Rick! It’s settled.”

“What is!?”

It didn’t need him to look at Brooke’s red face, or Martha’s amused expression to gauge what had just gone down in the kitchen. He gulped, praying profusely that Brooke isn’t as murderous as she looked at that moment. James was a factor he would have to handle, but what the heck. It isn’t like he’d stick around to be the best man in his wedding – it hardly mattered what he thought of him. He should be delighted to be able to stay close to Brooke, and get his questions answered.

Brooke wasn’t happy. No sir. Let a complete stranger move in. Live with him for heaven knows how many days. Let him see all her madness and psychotic breaks. And what if he was working with daddy dear, and was an assassin. Ok! Calm down Brooke! That’s way too far-fetched, even coming from you. She just wasn’t comfortable with having a man around 24x7. Let alone the man she slept with a couple of days ago. Awkward!! She hated complications – she had a fill of those already. She left brusquely, just as lunch was done. She had to make too many arrangements if that arrogant nosey man was to put up at her home for a few days. And oh!! She would make sure, it does not extend beyond a few days. On her way back she met James. Normally, out in the daylight, no one would acknowledge her – but not James. He gave her a huge smile, almost like he was relieved and happy to have met her. She smiled back. She never really thought anyone could be happy to see her, so she was grateful to him. For the bread. For the help. For being the nice guy to take a fancy on. She hoped she’d feel something more, but nothing could shake off the electricity pulsating in her since that day with Rick. A masochist you are Brooke Jefferson, she told herself – wincing at the use of her real name. One of those unshakeable
true scars of life that you can’t get rid of.

It took him a single trip to move all his stuff from the room at Martha’s guest house to Brooke’s cottage. He was pleased against his will to notice she had readied a room for his personal use, and wasn’t throwing tantrums about the messy arrangement of his clothes and books. He wasn’t sure if he was invited to have tea with her. Hell! He wasn’t sure what he’d do once night falls, what with the burgeoning attraction going out of control. He ran his hands through his unkempt hair, and thought of
a shower. Yeah that should ease him up a bit. He poked his head around for the bathroom – of course, just the one. He shuddered to think of the accidents that might cause with running into each other. How do you avoid her if you live under the same roof? Steeling himself, he walked out of his room and into the dining space. He stopped short. He could see why she was reluctant in letting him stay! James and Brooke looked so freaking good together, it made his heart ache - if that was legal and possible with him. Bright young beautiful. All that he used to be some time ago, he guessed. Time eroded him away, and Paul did too. He felt awful at having betrayed James’ trust and equally wronged at having been used so blatantly by her – he was sure her motive was to just feel something that day, in reality, she felt nothing for him. It was, turns out, one of those flings!  Well, what else did you expect in any case, he chided himself. Its better this way, he thought, this would curb his growing infatuation and keep him focused. And also, get his work wrapped up as fast as he could, so that he could let them be. He didn’t quite fathom the sinking feeling in him that the thought of them together caused, but he pushed it in an unknown corner of his mind, and hopped on to fetch some tea. James eyed him for a whole five minutes, before he went back to talking, a tad too softly with Brooke. He tried cutting out their chatter by immersing in tea and the lovely view from her kitchen. He had never seen Brooke converse in that way – almost lady like, quietly and in a reserved manner. Was he the only one who could unleash her beast? In some ways it pleased him, however, he resented being under the same roof as Brooke and James.

Brooke wasn’t sure what drove James to walk up to the end of the woods to check in on her. Maybe, she hoped, it was because he didn’t like her sharing her home with a perfect stranger. It sort of sent
a happy bubble in her mind. However, it did seem too much, even if he did like her. All that without knowing that Rick and her had been together. She still had to work that complication out though. Somehow there was a pulsing chemistry between Rick and her that was undeniable and persistent. It wasn’t like she felt anything, but it was like anchorage, that warmth and that intensity which gave her a slice of life back to what she knew was mundane and moribund. She glanced over at Rick, determinedly staring out from the window following a squirrel on the nearby casuarina tree. She poured herself a cup and stood beside him.

“So… all settled?”

He mutely nodded, trying his best to avoid her eyes. She didn’t like it, it seemed almost as if he had started feeling for her. No other complications this way, please, she pleaded mentally. It wasn’t like what happened that day was likely to happen ever again. But they did need to get it out of their systems to resume normalcy. But attraction or not, she couldn’t dismiss the sex as a passing fancy – she felt that singing life rushing in through her veins at his every touch. Almost as if… as if things were healing inside. It brought back the pain in the numbed wounds and then it was filling them in. She was torn between deciding if she ever wanted to feel that way, if she ever would feel the same with any other man, or that it was better as a one-time thing. She didn’t hear Rick calling her, seemingly from a distance. He shook her shoulders, and she could feel that latent warmth shoot up her body again. Hmm… this might be more than difficult, she thought. She turned around to catch a glimpse of his bare chest as he entered the shower. Right. This would so not work.

“Do you mind?” Rick was sifting through her collection of DVDs after dinner.

“Knock yourself out!”

“Well, this works only if you are watching with me”

Brooke stared at him blankly before going back to her e-book. She hoped the look quelled his stupid plans of movies. What she didn’t expect was that he would unceremoniously throw away her kindle, and drag the chair with her in it near the DVD player. Well, she was too shocked to come up with a retort. She was getting increasingly confounded by his abject lack of respect for others’ privacy, yet the power to understand the nuances of when she needs her isolation. It was becoming difficult to be unpredictable with him, and she had always surprised people around her, so that they would avoid her knowing something was off about her.

After couple of hours of screams and gore, Brooke couldn’t deny having had fun. It all felt so unnerving, so
simple, like two normal people, movie and popcorn. It had been a very long time indeed that she had last felt anything close to what she felt now. So far from the need to dodge a serial killer, also your dad, for all eternity.