Runaway (6 page)

‘Yeah…’ She said shamelessly, ‘We had a really good night, actually.’

‘I don’t wanna know,’ I laughed.

‘But you stayed at his house,’ Casey shouted again, enough to wake the birds. ‘What did he think of having Emma Clarke staying at his house?’

‘He didn’t…’ I said, ‘I didn’t tell him.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah… What does it matter, anyway?’

‘Nothing…’ She said, ‘I just wonder what a lot of guys think to having a Hollywood A-Lister staying in their home…’

‘Shut up,’ I laughed, ‘It was… Nice. Just talking to him, you know. Like a normal person. I didn’t have to put up with any of that bullshit the way people usually act around me, like they’re trying to put on some kind of show. He was just… A guy.’

‘A really hot guy.’

‘Yeah… No! Screw you…’ I laughed, heading back towards the house, Casey’s feet pattering along behind me as she followed me back in.

Chapter Seven

‘Nothing happened!’

‘I still don’t believe you.’

‘There’s nothing to believe. I stayed over at his house because I drank too much and he had no idea where I lived. I was so wasted that I couldn’t even remember…’

‘I’m sure that was very attractive, Emma,’ Casey said sarcastically. ‘You sure it wasn’t a little rebound after everything with that jerk back in New York?’

‘No…’ I said, ‘It wasn’t anything like that. It’s like I said, it was nice being able to talk to a person who doesn’t see you as a concept, like some kind of idol to be worshipped. He has no idea what I do for a living…’

‘That must’ve been weird.’

‘No, it wasn’t. It was actually pretty cool.’

We walked at a casual pace through Main Street in Watertown, both of us carrying grocery bags in our arms filled with food and drink to last us at least a week. It had been an odd experience making our way through the little store, picking up things at random and deciding to get them, and by the time we reached the checkout the owner of the place didn’t seem to know whether to give us a delighted look or a confused one.

So now we were slowly making our way back to the house.

‘D’you wanna get a cup of coffee before we head back?’ Casey asked, ‘I could really use one after last night…’

‘You’re disgusting,’ I laughed, ‘Yeah, why not.’

We reached a small coffee shop and entered, something halfway between a franchise setup and a pleasant, countryside teashop, with small tables and flowers contrasting the modern equipment behind the bar and a big flatscreen on the wall, playing some news channel quietly.

We got our drinks and took a seat, finally getting off our feet for the first time in hours.

‘It’s a good thing we’re way out here,’ I said, taking a sip from my cup, ‘Imagine if I had walked out of the house in the city last night instead of here? My walk of shame would be plastered across the cover of every gossip magazine in the state…’

‘Excellent point,’ Casey smiled. She looked over my shoulder and up at the wall, her face suddenly falling flat as she focused in on something. ‘Oh, no…’

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Don’t look.’

Of course, whenever somebody says that the only thing you do, the thing you
need
to do, is look.

I turned around to see what she was looking at, immediately greeted with a plasma TV image of myself on the red carpet with Marcus, arms around each other. I could only half hear what was being said but the picture of turned into an animation of a sharp tear coming down between us in the photo, and the picture splitting apart.

Then there was a picture of my apartment building and a question mark next to it – it was then that I realised that it wasn’t a picture, as the camera view descended down to show the doors Casey and I had come stumbling out of yesterday morning. The photographers and reporters had dispersed.

‘At least they’re gone from outside your apartment…’ Casey said reassuringly. I glanced over at the baristas, moving my dirty blonde hair over my face, although neither of them were looking in our direction or at the TV.

‘I guess…’ I said, ‘Hopefully they won’t have figured out where we are…’

‘Hopefully…’ Casey said, ‘Anyway, gives you a chance to go and see Jack some more…’

‘Shut up,’ I laughed.

‘Okay, okay… You two just looked pretty cute together is all.’

‘We’re not kids anymore, Casey,’ I smiled, ‘And we’re not those people that comment on YouTube fan videos saying how cute co-stars are… Besides, we all know how that turned out in real life.’

‘True,’ Casey laughed, ‘But you did say how great it was being with a person who just talked to you like a normal human being… I mean, aside from myself. So why not just go hang out with him?’

‘Because there’s a massive disparity between us. I don’t mean because he works as a logger, I would go out with any guy who I wanted to be with… And I’m
not
saying that about Jack, I’ve only met him once. It’s just that I’d have to tell him about what I do and… Can you imagine his reaction? Everything would change. He’d become just like everybody else is around me – aside from you and my family.’

‘Just go and see him, Emma,’ she said, ‘It’s not gonna hurt, is it?’

I looked off to the side, taking another drink of my coffee and dwelling on the idea of it. Should I go and see him again? We had only met once, but since then I couldn’t take my mind off him… Was I really gonna do this?

Chapter Eight

Of course I was.

I couldn’t tell you what was driving me towards him. I couldn’t even tell myself. True, everything Casey had said about him was right and unadultered – Jack was ridiculously handsome and had a body I hadn’t stopped thinking about since I had seen him this morning, but it wasn’t just that, if it was that at all. He had an honesty about him, a genuineness that I hadn’t found in anybody aside from my close friends for longer than I could even remember.

Because he had no idea about my actual life… But did that mean I should have told him? I had no idea.

I took the path around the lake around 8pm, the sun setting on the horizon in the early evening breeze as I finally reached his house. His truck was gone, his lights off…

I made my way up to the wooden door, tapping my knuckles against it as I stood there in jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket and boots. I waited, glancing around, listening for any sign of movement aside against the backdrop of the birds tweeting and the trees rustling around me.

I knocked again and, after waiting half a minute, resolved that he couldn’t have been here. I frowned and looked around, wondering where Jack could be… At work still? Surely he wouldn’t be there that late… Unless…

I didn’t even really think about it – I wanted to see him again. I set off for the bar where we had met almost 24 hours ago, where I had probably made a total idiot of myself. Maybe he would be there again, having a drink with Rory after work.

Watertown’s Main Street was just as lively as it had been the night before, the streetlights coming on, the quiet, charming place almost seeming like it had been set up by a film crew.

Haven’t had a reality check in a while,
I thought to myself, smirking at the idea.
And that seems like something I should be doing right now, considering how my life is starting to feel more and more like a movie…

But how was it gonna end up? That was the important part.

I headed for the bar, sauntering in through the doors with my head down, looking around for Jack or even Rory. I could see neither of them. My mood fell a little as I headed towards the bar, wondering if the bartender knew where he might be.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, leaning over to speak to the old, friendly man from yesterday.

‘Oh, back again, are you, dear?’ He smiled, ‘Thought you might have had enough for a lifetime last night…’

‘No, no,’ I laughed, ‘I actually just came to ask you something. I was here with two guys last night-’

‘Jack and Rory. Good guys, through and through.’

‘Yeah,’ I replied, nodding, ‘Well I was just wondering if you had any idea where Jack might be? I went to his house but he’s not answering…’

‘Ha!’ He laughed abruptly, ‘Monday night, there’s only one place he’s gonna be.

‘Where?’

‘The logging yards.’

‘You mean where he works?’ I asked, ‘Do they really work this late into the evening, in the dark with machinery like that?’

‘Haha!’ He laughed again, ‘Honey, he ain’t working. Might be blowing off some steam, but what he’s doing’s a lot more dangerous than working in the dark, I can tell you…’

‘What’s that?’ I asked intently.

‘Why don’t you go and see for yourself? It’s only 8.30, he should still be there.’

I wished I had asked the bartender beforehand what he was talking about, but my curiosity was peaked – I had no idea what I would find when I got down to the logging yard. He gave me directions and I took off, taking long dark roads that I felt like I shouldn’t have been taking, especially at this time of night.

***

But then I finally reached it, a huge, floodlit open area. I passed rows and rows of heavy machinery, the worn ground covered in chipped tree bark, stacks and rows of logs so high that it was wonder they didn’t come crashing down.

I heard what I was looking for before I found it; shouting and cheering, all from male voices as jeers were shouted and howling laughter boomed through the yard. I crossed my arms beneath my chest, turning the corner around the last row machinery and to see an open space cleared of objects in the centre of the yard, save for a group of thirty or forty men stood in a circle, shouting and throwing their arms up in the air.

I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing wildly, suddenly feeling more intimidated than I could even imagine.

What the fuck was happening? What were they doing?

At the centre of the mess of men cheering I could hear grunts and shouts, hard, flat packing sounds as I suddenly realised what was going on amongst the crowd.

They were fighting.

I had no intention of moving closer to it, but I was more intent than ever on seeing what was happening – we often want to see the things that scare us, I guess. We can’t look away.

I looked over at the machinery next to me, a huge thing with wheels and a carriage on the back for moving logs. Without even thinking about it I pulled my way up onto the top, climbing up to the top of the cab carefully before standing upon it and looking out over the crowd.

The thought crossed my mind as to what anybody who knew me would think if they had seen what I had just done, if they knew where I was, how out of place I seemed… But the thought of it was quickly extinguished as I looked out over the crowd and set my eyes on the two men fighting.

The first I didn’t recognise, a burly guy with a huge beard, bulky and terrifying. But the other guy…

Even with his jawline shaved and being a fair distance from me, that dark hair and toned, body, now roughed up and in a fighting stance, was unmistakable.

It was Jack.

My mouth literally fell open at the notion of it as I watched him dodge and weave away from this guy’s punches, delivering harsh, fast blows in response. I winced every time a hit landed, and Jack certainly wasn’t dodging every one of them. Another. Then another.

And just when I thought the worst, the whole thing came to a sudden end amidst the shouting and the laughter. The big guy came in for a punch, Jack sliding to the side, an unmistakable look of furious anger on his face as he brought his arm, bringing his closed hand forward, connecting his fist to the guy’s face with a hard smack that I heard even from where I stood.

The guy teetered, wobbling on his legs before finally stumbling over and to the side. He didn’t get back up.

Roaring cheers erupted from the crowd as Jack stood over the man for a moment, his toned, muscular chest rising and falling with panting breaths as he closed his eyes and calmed himself. But right then, that was the last thing I saw – because I had already clambered down from the cab roof and jumped the last section to the hard floor, making my way over to the crowd.

I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got there, but I didn’t stop. Until…

Somebody’s voice shouted, ‘Rudy, you next, Carl’s been eager for a rematch,’ just as Jack emerged from the crowd, carrying his shirt in his hand. In the floodlights, closer up, I could already see his body, the bruises forming and light drip of blood at his forehead, scratches from the hit of the ground.

He removed a spirit flask from his back pocket, unscrewing and taking a swig before lowering his head back down as he screwed the top back on. That was when he stopped, ten or so yards from me, staring over at me as he continued to breathe heavily.

We both stood there for a moment, expressionless, gazing at each other in the spare light. Then Jack finally spoke.

‘I’ll be honest; you’re the last person I expected to see here.’

‘I, uhh… I went to your house to see if you were there… Then the bar… They said you’d be here, but I didn’t… I didn’t expect…’

‘Didn’t expect to find a load of grown men fighting like animals?’

‘Pretty much, yeah…’

We both laughed lightly, but it didn’t drag away in the slightest from the reality of all this. It didn’t really seem like the kind of thing I expected Jack to be doing – he was smart, brooding, handsome… So why was he spending his night fighting after work at the yards?

‘Why did you come here?’ He asked, looking me up and down with a smirk.

‘I just… I don’t know, I just wanted to see you again, I guess.’ I couldn’t even explain it to myself…

‘Okay…’ He nodded, ‘Well I’m about to head back home, if you needed a ride?’

I felt more intimidated than ever, seeing his towering figure, bloodied and shirtless, his piercing eyes staring into me and his muscular body shifting with panting breaths… But for some reason that was exactly why I said-

‘Yeah,’ I nodded, smiling over at him, ‘I’d like that.’

We sat in silence the short ride back to Jack’s house, I occasionally glancing over at his domineering figure in the seat beside me.

I couldn’t count the number of questions running through my mind… And I didn’t know where to start. But I wanted to know something, anything.

As Jack turned the engine off and opened his car door he turned to me.

‘D’you want to come in for a drink or something?’ He said casually.

‘Sure, why not?’ I smiled, getting out of the car and following him carefully over towards the house. I followed him inside, the two of us standing in the dark for a moment before he struck the lights on and beckoned me into the kitchen.

It was only in the light of the warm, quiet house that I finally saw the state of Jack’s injuries, the cut on his forehead, the grazes on his arms, the bruises covering him. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

‘Is water okay? I’d put on some coffee but it’s a little late…’

‘Water’s fine,’ I said quietly.

Jack stood by the sink, running the faucet as he poured the glasses. I saw him begin to shake before he had a chance to fall, and ran over to him, somehow managing to hold his strong, heavy figure up. His strength was clear, even without any exhibition of it.

‘Okay,’ I laughed, ‘I think we’ve gotta get you upstairs or something.’

‘I think so too…’ He said, a smile in his voice.

We took for the stairs, Jack’s arm wrapped over my shoulder as I half-carried him up, although I was barely doing any work – how could I? He was bigger and stronger than me in every way.

We finally reached his room, stumbling in messily through the door and across his bedroom. I slid him from me, helping him onto the bed before I taking a few breaths and looking around. It was almost the same as the room I had awoken in down the hall save for a desk littered with papers and a laptop.

Jack stretched himself out and I took a seat by him on the bed, checking him in the light on the bedside table.

‘You need something for that cut,’ I said.

‘There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. And some vodka behind the sink. Bring them both.’

I smirked at him and did as he asked, retrieving them with ease and returning to his side. I uncapped the vodka, handing it to him and letting him take a swig before taking it back from him. I opened the first aid kit on the bed by my side, taking out a piece of bandage and holding it over the vodka, dabbing some onto the cloth and bringing it to his forehead.

‘This is gonna sting,’ I said.

‘Fine,’ Jack replied simply.

I hesitated a moment, looking him up and down as he stared off to the side before bringing it to his head and dabbing the liquid against his cut.

Jack didn’t even flinch – it was like nothing had happened at all. For some reason I think I would have felt better if he had made a move in response to it.

I stopped pulling away the cloth and looking at his bruised, damaged body for a moment, he turning to look back at me.

‘Who are you, really?’ I asked.

‘Jack,’ he said, ‘My last name is Landry, if that helps you paint a bigger picture.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes… People like you don’t exist in real life. You’re like… Like a character in a movie, or something.’

‘I don’t really watch a lot of movies…’

‘That’s probably for the best…’ I whispered to myself, ‘But you must understand me. You’re quiet, smart, you have a house filled with books and papers… And yet here you are drinking and fighting in the dark, covered in blood… Not to mention the cocky attitude…’

‘I guess that’s one way of putting it…’ He laughed.

‘So you know what I’m talking about.’

‘Come on, Emma, don’t ask me this stuff…’

‘Why not?’

‘You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.’

‘Try me,’ I said, ‘Look, I know that we’ve only known each other for like… What, 24 hours?’

‘Around that, yeah.’

‘But it feels like so much longer than that… And I know you think the same, or something like it.’

Jack looked up at me, his dark eyes running over my body before returning to meet my own. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and nodding.

‘Okay, fine…’ He said, ‘… Come over here, though, you look really uncomfortable sat there.’

I was a second away from jumping up from the bed and rounding to the other side to climb up by his side, but Jack got to me first. He leaned over and brought his hands up beneath my arms, lifting me up and over him effortlessly with his ridiculous, raw strength and sitting me down on the other side of the bed by his side. He sat up against the headboard and I against the backboard, facing each other.