Runaway ✔

127 • Juice

Pensively, Juice bit the inside of his cheek. Past Dana's shoulder he watched the beach. It was quite a long walk back to the village, and even further to their home. He didn't mind to go out naked, but no way he would let his girlfriend undergo that humiliation.

"I'm going to get clothes."

"Where? It will take at least an hour before you're back, you can't drive now. And I don't wanna... I can't stay here on my own..." Tears jumped in her eyes. "You're far gone man. What if you can't find me back?"

"Hey, don't panic." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I'm not that far gone. It's at least three hours ago we drank something." He wiped away a tear from her cheek and looked her in the eye. It was his fault she felt so unsafe now. If she hadn't been burdened by so many horrible memories she might not have minded to hide in the bushes, but especially now she was not sober, he was afraid she would panic or go through terrible flashbacks when a group of drunken men would walk by. 

He however didn't see other options. He couldn't call anyone, his burner had been in his pocket so that was gone too, together with the keys of their home. 

"I'll fix this," he promised her. Looking over his shoulder, he pointed to some bushes and trees behind him. "If you hide there, I walk back to the village and ask around for some clothes."

Her eyes showed doubts. Taking a few deep breaths, she nodded, probably lacking a better idea. "Okay."

With his thumb he stroked her cheek, then he kissed her. "I love you. I'm going to fix this. Let's find you a place where nobody will find you." He grabbed her hand and squeezed. 

. . .

Dana had squatted behind a fallen tree. Her face looked tensed and even though she hadn't said a word about it, Juice could imagine she was feared to be attacked by tarantulas or snakes. After he'd convinced himself nobody could see her, he ran back to the village. 

It had to be around 4 AM. It was dead silent, even the club where they'd been earlier tonight was closed. At one of the first houses he ran into, he slipped into the yard. On his way to the village he'd only ran past two people letting their dogs out, but he had ignored them. 

In front of the window to the living room he stood still, peeking inside. He didn't know what he was hoping to see, probably proof there wasn't a bodybuilder living there who would kick his ass as soon as he opened the door. It however was too dark to see anything and Juice decided to take his chances. 

He walked to the front door and rang the bell. He kept standing a bit to the side, so the owner wouldn't see him in all his glory as soon as the door was opened.

If he even succeeded in getting someone out of bed, that someone would undoubtedly be very suspicious around this time. He had also considered to break into a house, but he wanted to keep risks to a minimum. A record by the police was the last thing they needed.

After a minute Juice pressed the bell again, this time longer. Tensed, he held his breath, briefly looking over his shoulder. The street was still empty and it lacked decent street lights. 

He turned back his head as he heard the cracking of steps. Light was turned on. Juice braced himself. As soon as the door opened a bit, he threw his weight against it and tripped inside. His shoulder bashed against the wall and he kicked the door shut. 

He heard a scream. As Juice looked up, he saw an old lady, her eyes wide with shock. She was holding a shaking hand in front of her mouth. He mumbled an apology, relieved it wasn't a giant he had to compete with. 

"I won't hurt you," Juice told her with raised hands. 

The old lady looked like she could get a heart attack any moment. She had pressed a hand against her chest and muttered Spanish words. Juice realized she probably didn't speak one word of English and his Spanish was terrible as well. Maybe he should have taken Dana with him. She could have created some helpless impression, this woman was probably scared he was going to rape her or something. The thought alone made him feel sick. But he hadn't dared to take Dana with him, afraid they would come across a group of drunken men and he wasn't sure he could fight off four or five men. 

Juice gestured at his body, hoping she understood he wanted clothes, but she stepped back babbling, shaking her head wildly. She clearly thought he meant something else. 

"Vestido," he told her, one of the Spanish words he had heard Dana practice. He knew it was a garment, probably a vest. "Vestido." He pointed at himself. 

Blabbering, the woman stepped back. 

Juice sighed and looked around, hoping to see a coat or something. But there wasn't. More than anything he wanted to ran upstairs to find a wardrobe, but the old lady was getting on his nerves. What if she had hidden a gun somewhere? You never knew. 

In the end he motioned her to go upstairs. Her eyes became even wider and Juice felt more naked than he had ever felt. 

"Stop whining, woman," he grumbled. She may wish a young god like him wanted to sleep with an old skinflint like her. He pushed against her back and sobbing she stumbled upward. Juice followed her. He hated the fact he wasn't wearing a cap. What if his head tattoos would identify him later? Until his hair was taking them from sight, he better didn't leave the house without any headgear. 

Hopefully she would think all of this had just been a bad dream when she woke up tomorrow morning. Juice motioned her to enter the bedroom. 

"Vestido," he repeated, still trying to calm her down. It seemed to help a bit. 

The woman shuffled to a wardrobe and opened it. With a sigh of relief Juice shoved her aside, snatched out a dress Dana could wear and looked further until he had found something to wear himself. It was a dressing gown that would at least make sure he no longer walked around naked. He wrapped it around his body and muttered "gracias" and "sorry".

Then he left the house in a hurry, leaving behind the shocked woman in her bedroom.