Easier to Run (10 page)

Ben's lips moved, but it was hard to tell if he made any sound. “You okay?”

I nodded and slid toward the back side of the mattress against the wall. As Ben stretched out next to me, the words in my ears encouraged letting walls down, letting someone in to help, no longer holding back. Words so meaningful that I couldn't bear to skip the song.

Ben tugged at the cord. “What are you listening to?”

I offered him one ear piece, facing the sounds of the storm in lieu of a connection with him. Albeit a thin meaningless wire.

Another song—even slower than the last—but just as powerful. This one begging to be let in. I closed my eyes and drifted away on the lyrics and music. Ben's arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, secure, in our tiny shelter against the wind and lightning.

Ben pressed his lips to my temple, and I felt defenseless.

On the brink of sleep, thunder cracked and the truck shifted. I jerked upright, ripping the earpiece out.

“It's okay Cas. Just the wind.” Ben's arms were hesitant, but this time I wasn't stuck in a flashback. I just needed away from the storm.

I dropped against his chest, where I could hear his heartbeat. Closing my eyes, I focused on Ben’s fingers moving slowly through my hair.

“Remember when I stayed at your house during Rach's dance competition?” I asked.

“First time you watched a football game,” he said quietly forcing me to concentrate on his words rather than the storm. “First time I got you to talk to me. And then, I couldn't seem to get you to shut up.”

I spent the rest of the night questioning almost every play and rule of football—usually only one-word questions, but Ben didn't hesitate to explain until I was content. If I’d had my way, I would have been over there for every football game after that, but I never missed a Super Bowl from that day until I was sixteen.

“I think I drove your brother crazy,” I mumbled, sinking into his hold.

“Nah,” Ben said. “I think you won everyone in my family over.”

I snorted and turned to face him, pressing my back against the cold wall of the cab. “D-do you still see me as that little girl?”

Half of his mouth twisted upward and his gaze fell to where he held my hand. “You’ve never been an easy girl to classify.” His head shook slowly from side to side. “I don’t know where to put you, Cas. I never really did, but one thing I know for sure”—he looked me in the eye—“I don’t want to lose you again.”

The truck swayed with the wind again, and I braced my hands against the mattress. “I don’t think I’m ready for that conversation tonight.”

A black lid peeked out from the corner where it’d been tucked between the wall and mattress.

“You’ve taken up drinking, too?” I asked, tapping it with my foot.

“Sometimes.”

I lifted out the bottle. It looked like barely a drink had been taken out of it. I twisted off the lid and sniffed it—the clay-like smell filling my nostrils. I took a long swig, and as soon as it hit my throat, I wanted to gag. It burned even as it settled in my gut, and I shivered as I tried to replace the lid. “Gah.”

“What are you—” He chuckled and shook his head, lifting the bottle out of my hands and taking a sip. “Yeah, I didn’t figure that’d be your thing.”

“Not the worst I’ve had,” I said, wiping my arm over my mouth as if it’d take care of the aftertaste.

He quirked an eyebrow and offered me the bottle again.

“I think it needs to settle.” I patted my stomach. Between that and the swaying effect of the storm, I wasn’t sure anything would stay down, but numb sounded appealing.

“And how many different alcohols have you tried?” he asked, flashing me a bone-melting smile.

I gave him a sideways glance as I got situated under the blankets again. “A few. I’ve only been drunk once, though. Haven’t really touched anything since.”

“So, why tonight?”

“Because, I want to shut down for a bit.” My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Even though I knew I had a bottle full of pills that would help stop that. Why did the liquid seem so much more appealing this time? “And, I know I’m safe.”

Ben smiled and took me under his arm as we both stretched out—as much as two people could in a skinny bed anyway. Before he put the bottle away, I grabbed it and tipped it up for another drink. The second round wasn’t nearly as bad, but I still shuddered as Ben rescued the open bottle from my shaking hand.

“Guess I shouldn’t be too surprised since you are of age.”

I didn’t want to address that, so I bit my lip and tucked myself under the blanket.

I couldn’t fool Ben though. He gave me a long stare until I wanted to pull the blanket over my face. “How old were you when you got drunk?”

“Fifteen,” I admitted quietly, squeezing my eyes closed and wishing the alcohol would rush through my veins faster. “I raided Mitchel’s alcohol cabinet—thought if I just took a little here and a little there no one would notice. It was a teacher’s in-service day, so I was out of school, and he and Rachel were both supposed to be working late. I just wanted to be numb for a while.

“Mitchel came home early,” I continued in a whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “He… he jerked me off the couch. Said if I wanted to act l-like an adult I could learn what it really meant. I had no idea what he was talking about. I could b-barely even stand on my own two feet. He dragged me into the kitchen—” My body stiffened despite having Ben so close and the hot alcohol in my stomach.

“Tell me, sweetie,” Ben coaxed softly.

I wasn’t sure I was ready to unload even more heavy memories. It was too much for one day. “No, I don’t want—”

“You
need
to talk about it.”

That was what everyone kept telling me, but it was the last thing I ever wanted to talk about again. I took a deep breath, trying to talk without letting my mind slip too far back to the past. Trying to keep it from becoming too real. “He shoved a beer in my hand, but just the smell of it made me feel sick. He pinned me on the table. Pulled off my clothes. And every time I made a sound, he dumped some kind of liquor in my mouth or over my face. I think I passed out because I remember him…. And… and then I was sitting in the shower under a stream of cold water. Then, I woke up the next morning.”

Mercifully the buzz hit my head—I don’t know if it was really the alcohol or my own brain detaching from the events and sparing me the emotional explosion. “That was the first time. He left me alone for weeks after that, and I thought maybe it was just some kind of fucked up fluke, but then Rachel had to work late again. Mitchel had just had poker night with his friends and he was smashed. He came in my room that night, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. The more I fought him, the more I think he enjoyed it. After that, it became a regular thing—every time Rachel had to work late. I knew he was being honest about his threats. I didn’t want to lose everything else, and I kept thinking maybe he’d just get tired of it and leave me alone.” My voice was irregular and squeaky by the time I finished. Retelling the events was like bursting a blister—painful, disgusting, and exhausting. Supposedly, it was necessary for healing, but my wounds still felt irreparable.

Ben passed out on the couch with the television blaring some made for TV movie. His phone buzzed on the side table and he reached up, blindly feeling around to find it. He’d driven fourteen hours a day for the past four days straight and didn’t have the energy to lift his head.

His hand finally landed on the buzzing device and he glared at the bright, blurry screen just long enough to accept the call.

“Hello,” he grumbled.

“Ben!” a female voice shrieked.

He groaned and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Rachel?” He didn’t know why the hell she’d be calling so late, but she sounded strange. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m golden,” her words slurred together.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, the fog of sleep clearing slightly as he forced his body to sit up.

“No…. Maybe…. I need to ask you something.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“No, my question time,” her voice was a high-pitched whine like a child not getting her way. “I need to know you’ll take care of Cassie.”

After hearing that, he was wide awake. “Where are you? Where is she?”

“Oh, I had to take a detour, but I don’t mean now.”

Ben rubbed his eyes before setting his jaw and asking for the third time. “Where are you, Rachel?”

“Diggers, I’m walking home.”

Ben glanced at the clock above the TV. “It’s nearly midnight. Where’s Cassie?”

“Geez, dude. Stop yelling. I won’t call you anymore.” The phone went silent and Ben jumped off the couch and grabbed his keys. His apartment was about a mile from Rachel’s house, but he hoped she hadn’t walked too far yet.

He sped through town and slowed in front of Rachel’s dark house. She always walked to work, but he hadn’t known her to be out working until midnight. Then, he spotted a blonde stumbling around the corner. He killed the engine and left his truck on the side of the road, climbing out and slamming the door.

Rachel jogged clumsily toward him. “Shhh—” She pressed her finger to her lips.

Ben was fuming. “Don’t hush me. What the fuck are you doing getting shit-faced in the middle of the night?”

“Fuck off. I’m twenty-one. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” She shoved him away, then stumbled backward. “All anyone wants to tell me is what I’m doing wrong. Cassie is inside asleep. Probably better than the rest of us. She’s always better than the rest of us. Always smarter and independent.”

“Why’d you ask me to take care of her?”

“I don’t know, Ben,” her voice lost the angry tone and shook uncontrollably. “I don’t know what I’m doing. It never stops hurting.” She dropped against the hood of his truck, leaning over it. “I can’t breathe. It’s been so long since I could breathe.”

She shook with a sob, and Ben pulled her away from the truck and into his arms.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” she cried. “I wasn’t supposed to bury my parents.”

“I know,” Ben whispered, holding her close.

“They were here and then they were just gone. No warning. No preparation. Just promise me—” Rachel pushed him away. “Cassie trusts you more than anyone. Just promise me that if you can, you’ll always be that for her.”

“Of course, Rach.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

Rachel dried her eyes on her sleeve, and Ben nodded toward her house. “Go inside and get to bed.”

He figured they’d talk about it all later when she was sober. Standing by his truck, he watched as she stumbled into the dark house and turned off the porch light.

Ben

Cassie twisted away, trying to wrestle her own body for control. I sat the bottle on the floor and slid my arm around her shoulders, letting her adjust until she was comfortably curled up against my side. I was tired of watching her hurt and catching her tears only for more to come. I wished for some way to ease her pain rather than just consoling her through it.

“He followed through with his threat,” she whispered. “All I had to do was leave with you. I didn’t even tell you, and he…. He took my sister away and tried to take you away, too.”

I could barely find words. “You think he convinced Rachel to kill herself?”

“You really think she killed herself?” She glared at me in shock. “That she’d find out and then leave me with someone who was hurting me?” If her mouth hadn’t been so close to my ear, I wouldn’t have made out her words.

I didn’t have an answer. There were secrets about Rachel that I hadn’t quite yet revealed to Cassie. Her bouts with depression. Her threats before she started seeing a regular counselor. But just a couple of weeks before she died, I found out about her secret—her self-medicating with alcohol, staying out with her friends, and walking home drunk. She swore it wouldn’t happen again.

“Ben?” Cassie sat forward. “You really think she did it?”

“I hadn’t questioned it, no. She was depressed, Cassie.” I debated over how much to say but opted for the truth. I’d asked Cassie to lay her past and secrets out for me. It was only fair. “I caught her a couple of weeks before our last trip. She accidentally called me because she was drunk.” I stopped but felt like I’d already said too much.

“Drunk?” Cassie shook her head and reached across me for the bottle, but I pushed it out of her reach. “Drunk? When?”

“It was a Wednesday night.”

Cassie choked and pulled away. “She wasn’t working?” Her voice was light and almost breathless. “She wasn’t even working—she lied to me.”

She crawled over my legs and stood, jerking the curtains open and bracing herself against the back of the passenger seat. “He was raping me while my sister was out getting drunk.”

“Cas, if I’d have known or even suspected—” I had stood right outside of their house that night. My worst fear—my worst nightmare. What if I had gone inside? What if I had done something more? Questioned the whole situation? I had let her down.

She dropped into the seat and covered her face in her hands. “I know. And I-I just can’t believe she lied to me. I never wanted to say anything because she worked to make sure we all had everything we needed. To make sure I had a place to stay.”

Cassie swiped bottle of whisky again.

“Easy, sweetie. That stuff is strong.”

“I’m aware, but we’re not going anywhere.” She took a gulp, then pressed her hand over her mouth as she swallowed, and I snatched the bottle away.

“That’s quite enough for you.”

“I’m
not
a kid.” She stood, and the cab swayed with the wind again, knocking her off balance.

I grabbed her waist and held her until she was steady. “I know, but I don’t give a damn how old you are, I’m not going to stop wanting to protect you.”

Holding her like that, staring up at her, my heart was crushed, but something else stirred inside of me as well. Something more than the need to protect her. I took another drink myself, then tucked the bottle onto the back of a shelf. Thunder cracked overhead and Cassie jumped back into bed. She balanced on the edge of the mattress pulling her knees up and hugging them to her chest.

“You sure you’re okay with sleeping in here?” I asked, smoothing out her hair.

She smiled, but her face was more lax than normal, the alcohol already kicking in. “I’m good. I’d rather be here than on the road.” Slowly, she crawled across the mattress and tucked herself between me and the back wall.

“You’re a sleepy drunk,” I said, lazily drawing my fingers through her golden hair.

“I’m not that drunk.” Her words weren’t slurred, but her eyelids were heavy with the rush of oncoming sleep. Her forehead wrinkled as another gust of wind shook the truck.

I slid down the bed, laying on my side next to her.

“He took everything away from me,” she whispered without opening her eyes. “Everything I had left—just as he intended. Even though he planned for you to be the one sitting in prison, I still lost you.”

She’d spent all these years thinking that Mitchel killed her sister—now I wondered if it was possible. We already knew that he was capable of doing unimaginable damage to a young girl. Murder didn’t seem inconceivable. “I’m right here.” I flattened my hand against her stomach.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she wove her fingers around mine. “So much has happened. Both of us. We can’t really go back.”

“We don’t need to. We go forward.
Stay
.”

Cassie shook her head. “I don’t know if I can. If he gets out—it’s going to happen eventually—he’s going to come after me.”

“I won’t let him hurt you again. Wouldn’t you rather have someone watching your back instead of running alone?”

“Not if that person gets hurt in the process.” She smiled faintly and rolled against me. “Can we stop talking about it? I actually feel okay right now.”

“Go to sleep, Cas.” The alcohol was even starting to get to me. It was a horrible idea while on a run, but we both needed to unwind.

“Will you do something for me first?” She gave me a shy look and a mischievous smile.

“What’s that?” I chuckled, pulling the blanket over us both.

“Kiss me.” Her eyes widened as soon as she said it. She’d definitely had too much to drink. “I just want to know what it’s like.”

I tried to hide my smile, but she turned away closing her eyes.

“Just… forget I said anything, okay? I shouldn’t have come back.”

My heart slammed into the back of my throat. “Why?”

“Because it hurts. Have you ever felt so lost that you have no idea where to even start because… because everything you think you know—everything you think is real, and important, and worth fighting for keeps slipping away?” She toyed with my hand—her fingers twisting with mine in an endless motion that I wasn’t sure she was even aware of while she stared up at the ceiling.

I squeezed her hand and she snapped out of the trance. She blinked back the tears I watched glisten in her dark eyes.

“You’re….” she began, her voice tightening before she could get out the single word.

“We’ll figure it out, Cassie.” I tried to tug her closer, but she stayed planted like a boulder. “Together. Let me in.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I tried to hide how I felt about you—the things I wasn’t supposed to want and feel. Coming back was just a bad idea. I can’t pretend, and I can’t—it was safer when you were just in my head.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I love you, Cas.”

“Yeah, you love the little girl you always stuck up for. You were my hero, and once upon a time, that was enough. But I learned long ago that’s as far as my fairy tale goes.”

There was no little girl in the cab with me. I tried to sort through my feelings as they shot off on rapid-fire through my brain. I glanced down at our still-entwined fingers trying to figure out how to reconcile my feelings with the doubts and thoughts niggling at the back of my mind.

More than half a decade had passed, and not even I had moved on from what happened. My relationships were shallow and fleeting at best, but there was no way it was because I was fixated on the young girl I knew so long ago. Fixated on my inability to help her when it counted most.

I wanted to fight the idea, burn it out of my head, but I couldn’t. She was fifteen, and watching her go through everything that year, ripped my heart out. But she was just a friend—a girl I loved, but never romantically.

So what changed?

She was a woman now—one I had really only begun getting to know—and even then, she wasn’t that different. Same Cassie, but I didn’t react to her the same. I didn’t want to let her go.

At some point while I was lost in thought, she detangled herself from me and sat up again. I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever get to sleep—or if she’d even stay still for more than a few moments. She was about to climb over me, but I sat up, too, blocking her path. She refused to meet my gaze, even when I tipped her chin up. I finally let myself take in all of her delicate features, her straight jawline, her bottom lip turned pink from her nervously chewing it, the high cheekbones she got from her mother and shared with her sister.

I caressed her cheek with the back of my fingers, catching the lone tear that had made a break. And before I thought about it any further, I honored her request.