The Runaways

Chapter 5

Caleb

Growing up the youngest of four Irish brothers, I got few blessings and frequent beatings.

We fought over the few things we cared about—Ma’s love and our Dad’s mercy. There wasn’t a hand in our house I feared worse than that of my Dad’s eldest, Liam.

When Ma died, Dad’s misery turned violent and my brothers left together to find a place of their own.  I stayed behind and tried to convince myself that I could fix my father. There wasn’t any sense in that, though.

A month after my brothers left, Dad took his fists to me so badly that I couldn't walk for three days.  Liam came back and took me out of the house I wasn’t strong enough to leave on my own.

The four of us christened our new place as our "safe house"; an abandoned slaughterhouse on the outskirts of Manassas that earned its name just because it was far enough away from our father. 

We lived by Liam’s rules there—no alcohol and no women. He didn’t want distractions. Hailey would be our first.

                                                                ***

I got to Hailey sometime during the last twenty-minutes of our ride into town.

She’d been silent since then. I’d never seen anyone pout as much as she could, and if she kept this up her lips would probably get stuck that way—that’s what my Ma used to say, anyway.

She had a princess complex worse than any of the local girls. Guess it was a city thing. None of that “Prada” stuff mattered out here.

The girl didn’t understand limits—she wasn’t free to do and say whatever she wanted, however she wanted. Weird thing was, even after the morning she'd had, Hailey still didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. She sure as hell wasn’t afraid of me.  

To tell you the truth, the whole situation scared me shitless.  Maybe it was the way I’d been for a while, or maybe it was ‘cause I knew what was coming.

As a kid, I knew better than to mouth off to whoever I wanted to. Either I kept quiet or had the shit kicked out of me—easy as that. I used to cry a lot about it too.

Dad said I was too much like my mom as a kid, and still weak in all the wrong places at seventeen. There wasn’t much I could do about it. I didn’t get any tougher, but I learned not to cry.

Hailey hadn’t cried all morning, which freaked me out ‘cause I thought girls were more sensitive about things. Maybe she was braver than I was. She took off my edge with that reckless stare, and as crazy as she was, she kept me calmer than I thought I’d be.

Had it been some other girl, I probably would’ve chickened out. Before I ran into her, I thought she’d be some priss who’d hit me with her bag and call the cops, but she didn’t. Maybe that made her naïve, but things worked out.

Ten minutes came and went, and Hailey still hadn’t said anything to me. I felt kind of bad about it. I shouldn’t have, but I did. Liam wouldn’t have put up with her. He would’ve killed her before letting any woman turn him lap dog.

 If I walked off the bus, tail between my legs, he’d know about it. He’d beat me black and blue ‘til I was numb to her, and I hoped to God I was a little less transparent today.

                                                                        ***

Liam was leaning on the hood of dad’s rusted Chevy pick up when we pulled into Manassas.