Running From the Truth- Luke Hemmings

It's Getting Interesting Now

"Different? What does that mean?"

"It means you're new and they know you're important to us. They could even know that you're Hannah's little sister. I have no idea, that's why it's so scary. You're their way in. If they get you, they could hurt you and they could use you to get to us. I don't want you to get hurt, Carrie. i don't need that on my conscience too, not after all of this." Luke takes a long pause now, and i don't make an effort to break the silence. We both sit there and just breathe. 

I take the time to study Luke's face, to really study it now. He doesn't have any wrinkles or lines, which I guess is normal because he looks to be around my age, but there are absolutely none. no bags under his eyes, no laugh lines, no crow's feet. Nothing. No trace of good or bad. he just is. It's the matte, blank slate of his soft honey-pale skin broken only by thin, coral toned lips, the gentle curve of a nose, and two deep, cavernous eyes full of ocean waves and shimmering gems. Even in the dark of night, his glimmering eyes cut through inky blackness. It seems like those eyes would be there even if i closed mine, like when you look at the sun for so long that you see it's imprint on your tightly shut eyelids upon looking away. Everything about him seems to glow, and I feel like I'm glowing in his presence too. Just looking at his face makes me feel out of place, since his very being so sharply contrasts the dim nature of this scenario.

I notice that Luke and I are standing very close now. I was so caught up that i don't remember either of us stepping closer. I didn't realize how much taller than me he is until just now. Luke towers over my measly frame. I always used to tell my sister than i'm short and wide like a tree stump, which she didn't find as hilarious as I did. Anyways, Luke is tall as hell and i barely reach up to his shoulder. I have to crane my neck upwards to look right at him. I can smell him, not a strong cologne, but not bad either. he smells clean, like soap and wind and fresh pressed linens. i step back a bit, feeling a bit overwhelmed, and both Luke and i seem to snap out of whatever haze we were in.

He speaks softly remembering that he's not yet done warning me of the potential danger I am in,  "So no, you can't go home right away. If Ricky and his goons knew where to find us out getting slushies at the 7-eleven, they can probably find your house with ease. It's best to stay away for a while."

"Is Hannah going to be okay? And what about my parents? Are the safe there?"

Luke cracks a smile, "Even the toughest guys know to stay away from Hannah. Your sister can really pack a punch, and that's when she doesn't even have her rings on." I giggle at this, amazed that we're both able to make light of something like this, and Luke continues, "As for your parents, they should be fine. I can't see any reason those guys would want to bring them into this. Their problem is with me, which means it's with you and the rest of the guys by association."

"Okay, so I can't go home?"

"Afraid not, love.'

"But what if I need stuff from there? Where are we gonna go? How long until I can go back there?"

"I'm not sure. My house is too far to walk tonight and I don't wanna be out any longer than we have to be with Ricky and the gang looking for us. Calum lives pretty close to here though, so crashing at his house is probably our best bet."

I pull out my phone, turning down the brightness since my eyes are adjusted to the dim lack of streetlights in the neighborhood we're standing in. We start to walk in what is presumably the direction of Calum's house, and I see that my battery is at 22%. Fuck. I also see a string of texts from Hannah, with time stamps from about an hour ago to a few minutes ago. I guess I didn't notice my phone vibrating in my pocket. Many of the messages are in all caps, but the general theme of them is 'where the hell are you?'

"Dude, Hannah texted like a million times; she's freaking out. Should I call her?"

"Not until we get to Calum's. We can explain everything and get stuff sorted out once we're there. Just text her for the time being. Tell her you're with me and you're safe."

"And she trusts you enough for that to be enough?"

Luke laughs, "She'll be pissed as hell, but in the end she knows I wouldn't let you get hurt. It'll all be fine, okay?"

I sigh, finally starting to let out some of the stress, adrenaline, and terror that have built up in my system over the course of the night. Then, we fall silent. In this moment we are content with our simple task of getting to Calum's house. 

After about fifteen minutes of trying not to let my teeth chatter and hiding my icy fingers in the baggy ends of my sweater sleeves, Luke takes a sharp turn off of the street we've been walking on. He turns off of the street entirely, in fact and tries to lead me onto a wooded path. i stop in my tracks.

"Um, does Calum happen to live with Henry David Thoreau?"

"Hmm?"

"Henry David Thorough? You know, the guy who lived in the woods alone for years and then wrote a book about it? Famous author? Lived at Walden pond and wrote a book called Walden?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Literature jokes are way over my head."

I grin, "Whatever, just why are we going into the woods?"

"Oh, don't worry it's just a shortcut. It's safer than going around since we'd have to go onto a really busy street and we could get seen."

"So walking through the dark woods alone at night is the safe option? What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

"Hey, you're not alone! You've got me! If we've learned anything tonight it's that I'll totally cut a bitch if they try to kill you, so you should be totally safe with me."

"Not funny, Luke!" I say while laughing, because it actually is kind of funny.

Luke smiles wide and bright, holding out a hand, which I take, and leading me onto what seems to be a state walking trail. It's a little less cold once we get into the densely wooded part, but the sounds are much more disconcerting than anything we heard out on the street. branches creak, leaves rustle, and animals chatter softly, just out of sight and safely hidden behind the thick, black curtain of night. Some sort of nocturnal critter scuttles, sounding a hell of a lot like people footsteps, and out of instinct I cling onto Luke's arm. 

He looks down at me with a mischievous yet lighthearted look on his face, and my cheeks are abut as warm as they can be when it's 30 degrees out. "Sorry," I mumble as I try to pull my arms away from Luke, but he pulls back. 

"It's okay, stay, it's warmer this way anyways." 

I've never met anyone who can so quickly take away fear and replace it with a feeling much warmer and somehow much more intense. As Luke holds me tight and we continue our trek to the night's destination, I let my mind wander. I imagine that we're a happy old couple out on a walk on a cloudy day, locking arms and quietly reminiscing about the good old days. I imagine that we're young friends out to begin the adventure of a lifetime, that we're hiking up the base of Mount Everest ready to set a record, that we're coming back from a long summer day of laughter, but none of the stories in my head comes close to the feeling in my chest right now. Nothing comes close to how Luke, this boy I've just met and who I just saw kill a man, is making me feel with just a charming chuckle and a warm hand to hold. What have I really gotten myself into?