The Escape

Chapter Thirteen

                                                Chapter Thirteen

     My body leaning slightly forward against my seat belt told me we had stopped, bringing me out of my head from the vision of the day Thomas and I met. Glancing at my surroundings I realized we were parked in the garage under Eithen’s small apartment. Unhooking my seatbelt, I grabbed the two bags of Chinese food before opening my door and following Eithen up the stairs. He fumbled with his keys a few moments before finding the right one to unlock the door before turning the lights on. I discarded the two bags on the kitchen table, dismissing them completely before heading back out to the car to help bring in our numerous Wal-Mart bags.

     I shuffled my feet bringing the bags in as slowly as possible trying to drag out the moment before we would have to sit down and eat, no longer looking forward to my once favorite food. My appetite had quickly vanished when my stomach dropped at the sound of his dreaded voice at the gas station. We brought the bags in, the surrounding silence deafening, as neither of us said a word. I knew he had questions I either didn’t want to think about or would be too scared to answer. I was dreading sitting down to dinner, and the task was finished all too soon for my comfort.

     Not yet knowing where everything belonged in the kitchen, I set to work unloading the food while he put away the groceries. Getting down two plates and forks I tried to hide the trembling of my hands as I set them down on the table, uncapping the food and setting spoons in all the different dishes. It was enough to feed a large family, much less two people. I resisted the urge to pace in anticipation of the questions he would undoubtedly ask in the minutes to come. Sitting down at the table my hands were wringing in my lap as I watched him make his way over to sit down across from me. He offered me a small smile I was too nervous to return before reaching for a spoon.

     Alright, I can do this I thought as I watched him spoon a heaping pile of fried rice on his plate and drench it in soy sauce. Woman up Lacey! If he had questions to ask, he was apparently ignoring them placing all his attention on his food. I watched him pile shrimp on his mound of fried rice before grabbing a spoon and dishing up a small heap on my own plate. Instead of shrimp though I piled on crunchy bits of white chicken drowning it in cashew sauce before drenching it in soy sauce.

     It looked delicious, but my stomach was knotted in a nervous jumble making it hard to enjoy. After pushing my fork around a bit and cutting up my chicken, I forced myself to take a bite. I tentatively took another bite before hunger over rid my senses causing me to shovel the food in my mouth. The sauce was melting in my mouth and the Crab Rangoon actually had bits of crab in it rather than the cheap restaurants that usually just filled them with cream cheese. It was fried to perfection and Chinese heaven on my part. All too soon my stomach was full, and I had slowed down considerably not wanting to waste it.

     The silence once more became overbearing and it was driving me crazy. I knew he had questions. How was he refraining from asking them? I know he deserved some answers and I was trying to mentally prepare myself to give them whether I wanted to or not. Putting down his fork, his once large mound of rice considerably smaller, and his eyes flicked up to me. “H…,” he paused for a moment as if reconsidering what to say. “How do you like the food?”

     I almost wanted to laugh at the change of subject from what I knew he wanted to ask. “Seriously?” I asked with incredulity lacing my voice. “This is some of the best Chinese I’ve ever had but I know that’s not what you were really wanting to ask me. Is it?”

     He sighed and replied no. He just didn’t want to overbear me with a load of questions he knew I probably wouldn’t want to answer.

     “It’s okay. You can ask. You deserve some answers after everything that’s happened the past two days and what you’ve done for me. I can’t promise I’ll answer, but I’ll try.”

     He looked me in the eyes and I had to really focus on forcing myself to stay strong and look him back in the eyes rather than be a coward and look down. Nervous once more, just wishing to get this over with, I couldn’t keep still. “So…His name is Thomas,” he states.

     “Yup” I say popping the p wondering where this is going. Stating the obvious sure wasn’t going to get us anywhere. I sat there squirming wondering when he would just come out with it. I wish I knew what he was thinking so I could gauge where this unpleasant but much needed conversation was going.

     “Why is he so intent on finding you? It’s creepy. As soon as he realized it was Jake and Emily in my car, not us, he gave up the chase. And why are you so scared of him?”

     I didn’t know how to answer. I wish we could start with more basic questions, like the easy ones we asked in middle school orientation. Questions like favorite food or color. Or if I had any siblings; questions that required no thought and weren’t so emotionally taxing for me. I sat there thinking of how best to answer without giving too much away. Not that he didn’t deserve answers, but I wasn’t ready to delve into my pathetic life’s story. Not to mention I didn’t want to drag him any deeper in than he already was. Thomas was no force to mess with, and I had learned it the hard way.

     I opened my mouth to attempt an answer before once more closing it. I looked back up at him and sucked in a deep breath attempting to answer once more. “Cause I escaped. He’s angry, and wants me back. He doesn’t take well to not getting his way.” Thinking about the punishment I would receive if he succeeded made me involuntarily shiver in my seat.

     Surprise and confusion flickered across his face. Arcing an eyebrow he asked if Thomas was my boyfriend causing me to snort in response. A shrill high pitched laughter bubbled up from me at the thought. Not quite, but I didn’t know how to explain the situation. I wonder if he’d believe me if I told him.

     “Did he hurt you?” was his next question. “Is he the one that left you so scratched up and bruised? Why you look like you haven’t eaten in months?”

     I broke eye contact at the question too ashamed to respond or see his reaction. Sitting in silence, I refused to answer but I think deep down he already knew the answer. My hands balled up into fists at my sides, as anger coursed through my veins. I don’t know if I was angrier at Thomas or myself. I always thought I was a strong girl, too strong to be broken by any guy anyways, but boy was I wrong. I was a pathetic excuse of a girl, taking Thomas’s crap and then once escaped mooching off the first stranger willing to help. Maybe Emily was right. Not about being a convict escaping from prison, but I had my demons. And Eithen, a mere stranger, had helped me out on more than occasion.

     I felt a hand close around my balled fist making me jump out of my thoughts. My heart rate tripled as my head quickly swung up in the direction my hand was being pulled towards. The arm connected to my hand belonged to the too kind stranger of the boy that saved me. My body was fighting itself, tensing up at being touched versus the want to relax at this boy’s gentle touch. My senses were becoming hyperactive though I knew in a small part in the back of my mind that there was no need to be scared. If this boy was out to get me he had plenty of opportunities to by now. But then again, so did Thomas before he decided to pounce.