On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight - "Delayed Gratification"

I scoffed, “No. I’d love a letter. If you had to write me one right now, what would it say?”

“Really?”

“I’ve always wanted to get an actual letter. Like, a love letter,” I shrugged embarrassed.

“Well . . . I’d say you’re beautiful; you make me whole; you make my world spin round and round and round . . .” he started.

“Write it,” I said quietly.

He shrugged, “Who says I haven’t?” He reached back into the shelf and pulled out a set of folded sheets, which he then held between our faces.

“You wrote me a letter?”

“You said once that you wished you were born into a century when people had no choice but to write letters. No texts, no calls, just writing. So, I wrote. But you can’t read it now.”

“Why not?”

“Read it when I’m not with you,” he replied.

*

I didn’t tell Sarah. There was no point. I just went downstairs – back exit this time – and got into the car.

I told Hal where I was going, and it wasn’t strange, because why wouldn’t I be going there?

Ryan parked outside, and the mass of reporters standing around made me groan. They obviously needed to be there – the perfect place where a person could get the juiciest information. I just happened to be collateral damage.

If they recognized me, at least.

“You ready Miss Lane?” Hal asked, turning to me.

“One second.”

I pulled out my glasses – Sarah said to never leave without them, because of the flashes. Now I understood why people in the spotlight usually wore glasses at night; it all made sense now.

Then, the best part, my headphones.

I didn’t have to hear them call me a bastard child or love child. It didn’t really hurt; I’d been called worse, but Sarah was really affected by it, so I wore them, so I could remain oblivious. Everybody won.

“Ready.”

Hal got out, opened my door, and we ran the gauntlet, while Bob Marley sang One Love to me.   

I got into the building, went through security and Hal led me to the right door. I spent about three minutes reaching for the door handle without actually touching it, until Hal said, “Would you like me to get that for you?”

Through his expressionlessness, I could almost see a smirk.

I let out a breath and pulled it open.

It was fuller than I expected. There were all these faces that seemed familiar, but I wasn’t actually sure where I’d seen them or who they were. And as the door slammed shut behind me, and all the heads turned, I saw only one.

I sucked in my breath as his gaze fell on me, and his eyes widened, his mouth hanging open an inch. His hair was longer and so much messier, and his suit was hanging off his shoulders, but those eyes, that look – it was still him.

Sarah stopped questioning her witness and froze as she saw me. As she did, gazes followed hers.

It was all very uncomfortable, but I found myself smiling.

Fitch.

He was all I could see and feel.

“Miss Barron, you were saying?” the judge said.