Easier to Run (19 page)

“I’m probably better off,” Liz said, flipping her hair. “Who knows what you’ve caught from your little porn star.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, gritting my teeth. “How would you like someone to drag the skeletons out of your closet and air them for the town?”

“Mine aren’t on the internet,” she said. “It’s too easy. Much like—” She nodded to Cassie.

“Don’t,” I growled, knowing exactly where she was going. “Do not try to ruin her life. You have no idea what she’s been through.”

“Do you not care about anyone?” Brantley asked. He’d heard enough of my drunken rambling—so much that I wasn’t even entirely certain how much he knew about Cassie.

“You hurt me first,” Liz yelled, shoving her manicured, French-tipped, finger in my face.

“I was always honest with you.” I said it as if it excused anything. As if honesty should have made it hurt less, but regardless of my guilt, she’d stepped out of bounds too many times. And this was beyond anything I could ever forgive her for. “We broke up, Liz. We never got along.”

“Sure we did. And we always made up until you brought
her
home.” She tilted her head to look past me. “What’d you do? Get caught, then cry rape?”

Brantley grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the door. “That’s enough, and I’m not standing and listening to this anymore. What the hell has gotten into you?” He pushed her out into the hall then followed after her, closing the door behind them before I could hear her attempt at an answer.

Cassie jumped up and ran into the bedroom. I took off after her and tried to grab her, but she went straight for her bag, stuffing everything she could inside.

“Cassie, wait,” I pleaded.

She shook her head. “I have to go. I told you—”

“No, you don’t.” I pulled away the bag, but she grabbed a hold of it and wouldn’t let go. “We’ll fix it. We’ll find a way.”

“Your parents will hate me,” she sobbed. “Everyone…. God….”

She collapsed to the floor and covered her face with her hands. “I thought I could pretend to be someone else. I thought I could pretend not to care. If I just kept it up long enough, it might come true.”

I sat next to her, hugging her shaking body close to me. I wasn’t sure if by pretending she meant making the videos or her good mood today.

“I can’t face them. If everyone finds out….” She broke into a loud sob and collapsed in my lap. “Mitchel is still getting what he wants. If
he
finds out.” Her body shook even harder. “I have to get out of here.”

She jerked away, but I grabbed her arms and held her there, desperate to find a way to get through to her. “Cassie, you’re safe right now.”

“No, no, no,” she kept repeating the word.

“Bug.” I tried to pull her up so I could see her, but she curled tighter in a ball and kept repeating, no.

Since I couldn’t get her upright, I rolled her to her back and gently pried her hands away from her face.

“No!” she screamed, fighting against my every move.

“Cassie.” I didn’t know how to reach her.

Brantley knocked on the door frame, and when he saw us on the floor, he entered and sat on the floor in front of me.

Cassie continued her chant, her eyes squeezed closed and her hands clawing at her skin and hair.

“What color is your shirt, Cassie?” Brantley asked, somehow managing to keep his voice low and steady.

“No,” she whimpered again.

“When’s your birthday?” he asked.

She paused a moment, but by then, even that was progress. “September twelfth,” she finally whispered.

My heart throbbed—at least it was something. I looked up to Brantley, then back down at her, and he continued.

“Now tell me what color your shirt is.”

Cassie shook and took a breath. “Red.”

“Tell me what color Ben’s shirt is.”

Her breathing started to slow, and little by little her body relaxed. “Green.”

“What’s the date today?”

“July twenty-sixth.”

Brantley stood, and caught my attention. “She have meds?” he mouthed.

I pointed to her bag.

“Keep her going,” he whispered to me, waving his hand in a circle. “Try to get her to open her eyes.”

“What color is the frame on my dresser?”

“Silver,” she whispered—not even having to look. She found my hand and squeezed it.

“Can you open your eyes and tell me what else you see?”

She took her time, then I saw her glinting brown eyes. “Your green eyes.”

I brushed my palm against her forehead, drawing her hair back. “What else?”

“Blue curtains, white door, oak dresser….”

Brantley came back with a glass of water. I helped her sit up and he handed her a single pill and the glass.

“Thank you,” she already sounded exhausted, but she swallowed the pill and handed back the empty glass with trembling hands.

“Let’s move to the bed so you can lie down,” I said. Brantley helped us both to our feet, and then I lay down with her.

Within fifteen minutes, she was out, and Brantley came back to check on us.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” I asked.

“I have a few secrets up my sleeves,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.

“You have a psych degree hidden in the tattoos?”

“No.” He dropped his head backward. “My dad had PTSD. I spent a good deal of my teenage years talking him down. I knew the look as soon as I saw it on her face. There’s a war bigger than all of us inside that little head.”

I nodded. “It terrifies me and I can’t even see it.”

“I would say that’s the scariest part, but I doubt it. We’ll never really know.” He kicked his foot out and crossed his ankles, never taking his eyes off of the girl next to me. “I did damage control as much as I could. Paige is going to try to talk her down, too. I’ve seen her do some crazy things, but never anything like this.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“You want me to stick around or would you prefer some alone time?”

Why did that question suddenly terrify me? Until today, I had managed to pull her back on my own.

“Just get her talking, Ben. Ground her, make sure she knows where she is and”—he shook his head—”
when
she is. You’ll be fine.”

He still hadn’t asked for any of the details around Liz’s announcement. He knew when not to ask questions and when to intervene. I think whether Cassie realized it or not, she’d just gained another friend and protector. There were some friends who didn’t need explanations to have your back. Even during fucked up occasions where the person trying to stab you happens to be pseudo-family.

I nodded. “I hope so.”

“I won’t be far, so call me if you need anything.”

Ben

I lay in the quiet apartment while Cassie slept peacefully beside me—at least I hoped her sleep was as peaceful as it seemed. Had I caused this? Convincing her to open up only to have my past come back and slap us both around. I knew Liz would continue to be a persistent thorn in my side, but I never imagined she’d try to drag Cassie down.

I thought back to when Cassie showed up by my rig. How many times since then, I’d seen the rise of panic in her eyes. Her flashback the first night; the panic when she’d been approached by the men at the truck stop; her jumpy, anxious reaction to the storm; even her response to Brantley the first night.

After checking on her one more time, I pulled out my phone, opened the browser, and typed in “PTSD.” I scrolled down to the first medical link, and my finger hovered over it for a few seconds before I had the guts to tap the screen. The article that opened was six pages long, so I took a deep breath and started to scroll through. I’d seen it first hand, but the article made it sound even more distressing—“unable to stop remembering”, “changes in brain function”, “unknown if the changes are reversible.” It didn’t stop. I scanned through mentions of major depression and anxiety disorders, increased levels of stimulating hormones that ramp up anxiety and stress.

It all described Cassie perfectly.

I turned off my phone and pressed my head into the pillow. I thought knowing more and understanding might help, but it made me feel even more out of control and utterly scared for her. I finally realized just how hard it must have been when she agreed to stay.

I had begged her to stay, but what choice did I have? Watch her walk away? Let her cope with it on her own or go back to her grandparents? No, I dragged her back and into my problems. I wasn’t protecting her from much if my own problems were making her worse.

Cassie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she jumped. With clumsy hands, she fished it out. The screen read GMA, so I took the phone from her and ignored the call.

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered, kissing her temple.

“She’ll call back. She won’t stop.” There was barely any substance to her voice.

“Let me take care of it, okay.”

Cassie rolled to her side, and pressed her forehead against my shoulder. “She hates you.”

The feeling was mutual, but while Cassie dozed off again, I silenced the phone.

I know you’re ignoring my calls. Won’t you ever grow up?
The message appeared on the screen before I could set the phone aside. And I had half a mind to send an equally scathing reply, but by tomorrow, Cassie would have a new number and it’d be her choice to contact them again.

I hoped.

I felt like we were back to square one again. She had been so happy all day, and then Liz had to go and ruin it. I hoped to God that when she woke up, she’d be ready to talk it out rather than run away.

I couldn’t let her go again. I wouldn’t. I just had to find a way to make it all right.

I always knew that it had hurt to lose her, but until I got her back, I hadn’t realized how much. It seemed impossible that she could have left such a gaping hole in my life. It wasn’t just losing a friend. A girl I had looked after for more than a decade. I lost something that I needed.

Our love was different then, when I never anticipated it evolving into something more. I always assumed that she’d be in my life in some form. Friends move away all the time. People lose contact. This was something more. When she moved away, I lost a piece of myself that I refused to acknowledge for the last six years.

I wanted to kick myself for falling so hard so fast. Maybe she needed more time to breathe. Time to find her own place and walk on her own two legs. But I wanted to make sure she was strong enough first. I wanted to be the one who supported her when she needed it. And for the life of me, I couldn’t change the way she’d grabbed ahold of my heart and claimed it as her own by simply walking back into my life.

I was well and truly fucked.

We both had people and events from our pasts who haunted us every day. Mine may not have been as bad as hers, but Liz was hiking perilously close to that edge. She wanted to take everyone down with her. Make everyone suffer if she couldn’t be happy.

What the hell was wrong with her?

I wondered if either of us could ever be free. If our pasts had done so much damage that we’d never make it to the end of the line in one piece. But I’d try my damndest to make sure we did.

After another hour of sleeping, Cassie moaned and rolled away from me. “I have a headache,” she pressed at her temple.

“I can get you something.” I brushed her hand away and rubbed her temple.

She hummed and gave me a tiny smile. I pulled my hand back, but she grabbed my wrist, pulling me back.

“Sit up, and lean back against my chest,” I said. When she sat up, I scooted over and pulled her between my legs. She laid her head back against my chest, her blonde hair was a crazy mess of tangles and knots, but I smoothed it out of the way and rubbed her temples until I heard her take a long sigh.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

The question I’d been hoping for and dreading. It meant she wanted to talk it through and find a solution, but I didn’t have any answers to give her. “Brantley talked to Liz and hopefully diverted her from the war path.”

“For now, but how did she find out? Is there a Cassie Bryant’s fuck ups listing on the web?”

“I highly doubt that, sweetie.”

“I’ll never be able to face your parents.”

“They love you, Cas.” I squeezed her arms and rubbed her tight biceps. “No matter what happens, that won’t change.”

She sat up and twisted around to face me. “You really want your parents to know what I did?”

“Not high on my wish list, but it can’t be a whole lot worse than explaining Liz to them.”

“Really? Did you get paid a few hundred dollars to have sex with her on video, and then have that video posted online?”

“No, but maybe you can get your own TV show.”

She glared at me.

“I was kidding,” I said, putting up my hands in surrender before she decided to attack and gouge my eyes out.

“Not funny.” She flopped back and somehow managed to clip a testicle in the process.

“Ah, fuck,” I grunted and pushed her forward. “
That’s
not funny.”

But, Cassie erupted in laughter while I pressed my hand over my face to keep my eyes from popping out of their sockets and rolled to my side.

“So
now
, you’re laughing,” I groaned.

“Uncomfortable situations make me laugh, you know that. Nothing’s more uncomfortable than waiting to see if you’re going to kill me.”

“Well,” I grabbed her by the waist. “I’m either going to kill you or kiss you, sadist.”

I twisted her to the bed, and she squealed as I pinned her there. “I vote for the latter.”

Her eyes still looked exhausted and her movements were sluggish, but if I could get any smile or giggle I was going for the win. I took her lips, probably rougher than I should have, but I needed to make her mine. To show her that she was mine.

“Promise me something,” I said as I pulled away.

She swallowed and hesitated. “What?”

“Whatever happens we’re in it together. We figure it out together.”

She bit her lip and took a few long breaths.

I was asking her to forget about whatever escape plan she might have—even if it was only in the back of her mind. I was asking her to put her faith in someone when for six years most people had let her down. I let her down, whether or not she saw it that way. And worst of all, I was asking her to take on my past—complete with my own fuck ups. But I couldn’t handle the alternative. “I can face down our pasts and whatever shit comes of it, but I don’t think I can watch you run away with my heart again.”

Her face softened, then tightened around her eyes with understanding. “Okay,” She opened her mouth and closed it again, taking in a shaky breath. “I promise. As long as you let me run away with you sometimes.”

“Deal.” I sealed it with a kiss.

She yawned, and turned her head away, covering her mouth. “Is it all right if I take a shower?”

“Sure,” I said, rolling off of her.

She picked up one of the bags she’d brought in from the store and headed out of my room.

I laid back on the bed and closed my eyes. Luckily, the meds and her nap calmed her down, but I was no less worried. I didn’t doubt that she’d keep her promise. That wasn’t the problem. It was the whole situation that worried me. Could I ever fix it?

I checked my phone, then slid off the bed. At this point, I assumed that no news was as good as it got.

While Cassie showered, I perused through the kitchen and finished organizing everything I had brought home earlier. I checked my phone again to see the time and realized I’d been keeping myself busy for at least twenty minutes. If the bathroom had a window, I would have been wondering if she had decided to sneak out.

Then, I twisted the lid off the peanut butter and took out a scoop on my finger—Brantley would never touch the stuff since he was allergic, so there was no use in dirtying up a perfectly good spoon.

I finally heard the bathroom door open and peeked around the corner, my finger still in my mouth, to see Cassie stepping out in a short towel.

“Uh, forgot clean clothes.” She stared wide-eyed at me when she realized I was standing there and clutched the towel to her chest.

“You could leave your bath stuff in the bathroom,” I said, pointing to the bag and trying not to drool too much over the sight.

“I didn’t want—”

“You’re staying, Cas. You may as well make yourself at home.”

“And Brantley?”

I waved my hand to dismiss the argument. “He’ll get over it.”

“Fine, I’ll put it back later.” She sprinted to the bedroom and slammed the door while I went back for seconds on the peanut butter and enjoyed the mental image I still had in my head.

Cassie reappeared a few minutes later in a pair of shorts and a tank top with her wet hair twisted up in a messy bun. “You and peanut butter.”

“You and waffles,” I said. “It’s only fair.” I held out a dollop of peanut butter on my finger.

She grinned for a second and stared at me, before licking it off. “Not bad.”

“Best way to eat it.”

She shook her head.

I replaced the lid and tossed the jar into the cupboard. “Any dinner requests?”

“Not really,” her tired, mopey face had returned and she yawned again.

I pulled her against me, sliding around her so that her back pressed against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her upper chest so I could press my lips to the side of her neck.

“What if Liz talked to your parents?” she asked, squirming in my grasp.

“Then I’m sure my phone would be ringing like crazy.” I pulled it out and showed her. “Nothing.”

She sighed. “Did my grandma call or was that a dream?”

“She did, and I silenced your phone.” I kissed her neck again.

A soft gasp escaped and she twisted. “You should stop that.”

“Why?” I angled my mouth so the air from the words hit the back of her ear.

She moaned instead of answering and swallowed audibly. “Because I’m trying to talk, and you’re distracting me.”

“You’re trying to worry,” I kissed her again. “And yes, I’m distracting you.” I switched sides and kissed the other side of her neck. Another lower, and another until her breath became audible.

“You like that, do you?” I asked against the back of her ear.

“You don’t play fair,” her words were light and breathy.

“Glad you approve,” I said, muffling my chuckle against her neck. Her back pressed into me.

And then, my phone rang.

Cassie huffed, while I jerked it out. “Relax, it’s Brantley.” Although I couldn’t guarantee that’d be good news.

“Hey,” I said.

“Liz is with Paige,” he said over the sound of a loud, idling engine. “She’s bawling her eyes out about how she screwed up or some shit. I think you’re in the clear—for now.”