The Runaway (14 page)

He shrugged and left. Brooke heard the door shut. She had heard him shuffling about his room too. Moving his things around, it wasn’t hard to guess he was packing. She sighed.
And laughed. To herself. Of course he would run away. Why waste your faculties on such an emotionless being? He just faked his concern, his unwavering strength in supporting her through her weaknesses so that he could get the real picture. Paul Jefferson’s real picture. She was just a means to the end. She didn’t even have emotions enough to feel the need to protect those fragile things. She wasn’t fragile enough to be saved by him. She had him leave. Did she want to savour a last glance –of that perfectly chiselled jaw, and his smile that made her heart stop? No. Yes, she did. But it would do her no good. He could just slink away into the darkness that he had come from. People leave anyways. That’s what they are best at. She stood rooted to her spot as hours sped by, unsure of what to do next, how to resume her daily routine.

Richard didn’t look back. He walked, practically ran to Martha’s place and dropped the letter in her mailbox. He retrieved his car keys from his jacket pocket and revved up the engine. Driving as fast as he could, he reached James’ house. It was pretty late for either Sam or Bob to be up, but James would definitely be awake.

“Rick?!” James stood stunned at his garage, covered in streaks of grease. It was close to 2 A.M., and Rick stood in front of him fully dressed and almost as if ready to leave. There was a certain finality in his smile that unsettled James.

“Fixing your car at 2 in the morning?! Really James. Too Jobless.”

James
grinned nervously. And waited for him to continue.

“So… I’m leaving. Figured I have wasted my time enough here. I can complete the rest of my work from home I guess…”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah!”

“As in, when do you plan on coming back?”

His silence answered it all too well. It made him mad, angry, bitter. James could have basked in the fact that Rick was leaving, and he could have Brooke to himself now. But he was sure, none of them were in for him leaving all too suddenly.

“What happened, Rick?”

“Nothing. This isn’t my place to be. I
… I would do more wrong if I stayed any longer...”

“What are you talking about?”

More silence. This made him all the more wrathful. After forcing himself to calm down he interjected, “What about Brooke?”

Rick shuffled about, and chose to not answer. It was so blatantly evident he didn’t want to leave, or maybe he did. He was just
not sure how to interpret Rick’s expressions.

“You are running away, aren’t
you?”

“James… there’s nothing to run from, or to run to. You… Well, it was always your path I guess. I was always a visitor.”

“Who made her laugh, Rick!!” James pushed his fingers through his hair in utter frustration. “Stop being a thick headed arse, and see for yourself.”

Rick simply gave him an awkward hug and paced towards his car. He didn’t want to know the truth that he was running away, escaping before things got way out of control for both Brooke and him, or before he jeopardised her life any more. She didn’t deserve to be used and
that’s exactly what he had come here for. All he could to salvage the situation was to escape quietly. He would miss James and his moral compass. He could never be that strong. He thought he noticed something behind the trees as he sped by James’ iron gates. It was a fleeting look that he could make out of a person trying his best to hide. Should he check it out? He paused. He knew he was merely fishing for excuses to delay his departure. He drove what seemed like endless miles that stretched between his sanity and his heart’s deepest desires; his right and his wrong. He hoped he could burn down the bridges in the gaps, but he couldn’t. He needed to know there was always a way to get back to her. To a place where he wasn’t just the arrogant nonchalant rich writer, he was just another person, someone who was needed, who could make a difference somehow, and was reminded of the time in his life when he actually did something good with his existence. He didn’t really stop for anything else besides refuelling his tank. He returned the rented car, and waited for his flight in the airport, deep in thought. The distant rumbling of the skies told him he was in for a rough journey. The Scottish sky looked blue as ever, even though he could see dark clouds rolling in over from the corners. He was a long way from going back to what his normal mess was before meeting Brooke. He thought of calling her, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to talk. Not now. Not ever. Flight schedules were announced and he got to up to bid farewell to the beautiful country. He had somehow found a home here.

Yes. He knew it wouldn’t be difficult to know where his Brooke is. He led him right to her. Stupid Richard Halden. Famous man, he gathered from his apartment. It was a messy apartment. He had wanted to know what kind of a man was Richard. He glanced over at the photos on the shelf – a smiling girl, with her arms around Richard. No father. No wonder he didn’t realise what he felt for Brooke. Yet, would he woo Brooke? Would he want to be with her? He didn’t like the idea one bit. He was overjoyed with Richard’s lack of security measures on the cabinets and drawers. And that he was being researched a lot by him. Along with Brooke. Paul fished through several files and papers to piece together clues that led him to Scotland. He had asked around for Richard – he knew he had left in a hurry. All he had to do was now follow Richard’s trail. He would inevitably search for Brooke. It would be a very long time indeed since he had last set eyes on her. She was of the same blood. He was sure she was aware that he would come back for her. He would always be back for her. A few more days and a trip to Scotland.

It was late in the evening that Richard finally reached his musty smelling apartment. Too tired to register his neighbours comment on his overgrown lawns and stinking kitchen, he opened the door and let himself in. The apartment somehow didn’t welcome him back- it was cold as ever, dank and desolate. He was momentarily reminded of a warm fireplace, and couch beside rows of books.  He shook his head – no he couldn’t afford to fall back into that trap; he would lose himself completely. He rolled his tensed muscles and
threw his bags on his way to the kitchen. Yes, it did sort of stink, must be the moulding food in his refrigerator. He sighed. He would never be able to go into a kitchen without being reminded of her, those muffins she baked, and her spotless counters and shelves. He went in to look for a glass. The sink seemed wet. That didn’t seem right. There was no habitation for almost two months, he was sure no one had come by- Eve or Cook. He sharpened his senses. It didn’t feel right. He swung around just in time to notice a shadow pass by the stairs. He darted forwards only to find the drawing room flooded in light and on his couch, flicking through one of his bestsellers was the devil himself.

“Any book on me, Rick?”

He flinched at how he called him and how close he was. He was speechless, his wires buzzed out of overload of having to register that Paul had escaped a high security guard and was here idly sitting in his room. He thought of texting Cook. He was surprised at how this bit of news had missed him. But he didn’t take his eyes off Paul.

“So, I just went over your stuff. Quaint name. Applecross.”

Richard froze in horror. Not only did he just feed him Brooke’s address, he was sure seeing him react in this manner would have doubly inspired him to go after Brooke. He couldn’t feign indifference.

“How is my Brooke, Rick? Still my daughter’s knight?”

He laughed, pitchy and loud. Richard didn’t remember to move in time to trap him. Paul got up smoothly and left, mouthing a thank you in his direction. It was when senses came back to him tingling his skin, Richard took his mobile out to find several missed calls and texts from Cook. He called Cook immediately.

“Where the hell
are you? Jackass! Paul escaped..!”

“So, I see
…”

“What!! Did he come by your place?”

“Yeah… I need to take care of something, I’ll call you back.”

“No.
.. Don’t hang up now!”

Richard could hardly breathe anymore. He snatched his car keys and ran to the garage. He kept incessantly calling James all the way. At long la
st, when he was almost halfway to the airport, a groggy James answered the call.

“Ello!”

“Listen to me very carefully James. Don’t ask questions, just do as I say. I’m on my way back!”

“Ha! Son of a bitch! Knew you’d have to come back…!”

What could Richard say? He knew that too. He knew this felt right, going back to her. If only it wasn’t under such a dire emergency.

“No
... Listen. Brooke is in danger. Mortal danger. Get her out of there. Get her tickets to the nearest city, and then have her change buses to go someplace else. She has to leave now…”

“
Hey, hey. Slowdown Rick. I can’t make any head or tail of what you are saying. How is Brooke..?”

“JAMES!” He almost screamed into the speaker, attracting disgruntled looks from the sleepy passengers in line.

“Promise me. Just get her out of there. Now. I don’t care what she says. Just tell her… tell her, she needs to run now.”

Richard exhaled noisily. It would be impossible to answer James now, not when he was running out of time majorly.
He just had to make sure Brooke was out of Paul’s reach. He had entrusted the job with the right man, he was sure. After calming himself, he dialled her number. It went straight to voicemail. No surprises there.

“Brooke. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to begin. I need time to do it all. To tell it at all. And right now, you don’t have it. James will be arriving shortly. Pack whatever you can and leave with him. Go anywhere you want. Don’t, just don’t stay there. You don’t
have to believe me. But listen to AFP or the Yard. Paul escaped. And he knows where you are. Hell, my research led him to Applecross. So just leave. He will be onto you. But, wherever you go, I will find you.  I owe you more than explanations. I will come get you…

Brooke, not that it matters but I
was the one with you all those years back. I don’t want to do it again now, or, worse not be able to do it. I mean it. Leave. Now.

Also, it’s Richard Halden. Be safe. I.
.. Just be safe.”

He cut the call, as he rested his turbulent mind to a short reprieve at having been able to spit it out to her. He prepared for the flight. He wished to hell that he reache
d before Paul did. He had to reach her before the light that was seeping into his soul was shattered in a million shards of unfulfilled promises.

Miles away, Brooke stood frozen, staring at the telephone with a rather long voice message from the person she was dying to hear, but hated to her core.
There were a million revelations in his message. She had been saved by
the
Richard Halden. She grabbed one of his books that was nearest to her – the man whose language she was in love with. His heroes made her dream about real men who sweep women off their feet. And she was living with him. Richard Halden. She was living with the man who had saved her. The man whose face she tried piecing together from fragments of her memories each night before she turned in. The man who she wanted to thank in a million ways for having destroyed her life, but also for having given her a second shot at life. Her hands shook as she lifted the receiver to call him back. She wanted to scream at him for hiding so many things, so many secrets all that she had the right to know. Who did he think he was? Hiding his name, identity, and how they were bound? Hiding the fact that he knew everything about her, and yet feigning all that ignorance. Hiding that he had feelings for her but stubbornly refused to put words to it. She hated him. But there was no time. If Paul was on his way, it was only a matter of time that she’d be captured by him. She wistfully looked at the telephone again, wishing it was Richard himself, so that she could exact her hateful vengeance. She unceremoniously dropped some of her stuff in a duffle bag and ran to the doorway to find James waiting for her with two tickets in his hand. She smiled at him, she tried to. But she felt parched with fear, anger and anxiety.

“Brooke… I don’t understand what’s going on!”

“James! Can we hurry?”

James was unnerved by the way she kept looking around her as if someone would pounce on her any moment. Who was
she running from? How did Rick know all that stuff? There were so many mysteries shrouding her, but none of them were ever answered. If at all, the questions just seem to be increasing in numbers. But all he could do was stare at her livid scared face and do whatever he could to ensure she was safe. It was a short drive to the bus station. As they waited for the bus, she shivered. He held her hands, somehow knowing that this was the last time he would ever see her. She didn’t let go. She squeezed his hands gently. Brooke was humbled by his support, and the fact that he never abhorred her. She was saddened that this was goodbye. Hell. She had come to think of spending her life with someone as solid and dependable as James. But reality had a path of its own, twisting and bending your thoughts and dreams into facts that you had never imagined would come to pass. Her past was one such horrid fact. The shadow of which she didn’t want James to be affected with.

“You are leaving, then?”

Brooke nodded mutely.

“I don’t think you would tell me why. But it’s ok….”

Brooke’s heart bled. She wished she could tell him. But whoever knew of Paul, either went missing or died rather painfully. And heavens forbid that he would ever have to suffer at his hands. In some other life, she would be happy and content to have a life with someone like James. She would be flattered that he picked her, of all the girls ready for his arms in and around Applecross, he chose to look beyond the petty rumours and prejudice and chose her.

James coughed. “So, is.
.. Err… Rick going with you?”

Brooke laughed. She answered a no, thinking it was so utterly naïve of him to think of this as a romantic escapade – of them eloping into the sunset, chasing the dusk.
That could never happen. She wasn’t sure, if she would even meet Richard anywhere in the near future. She yearned to see him again. She knew a normal life with James did not tempt her, as she was heady with the charm and warmth that Richard exuded, of the safe arms that he provided to all her dreams and wishes, of the desires he stirred in her, like any other woman and not a broken ruined girl. Brooke decided to lighten the mood.

“Your friend Rick is the famous Richard Halden”

“No kidding!! No wonder he looked familiar.”

James found it hard to digest the news – that his carefree friend was a bestselling author worth millions. How many lies and games had he played to get in
to Brooke’s books? Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if following Rick’s orders was right for her. He was a master of deception in any case.

“Son of a bitch! Well,
he said he wanted to
get away from life
...”

He looked hopefully at Brooke to fill up the gaps. But she remained woefully lost and silent.
He could see the headlights of the bus from afar, and he knew that there was no way of stalling that moment anymore.

“Brooke! Whatever it is… that.
.. I don’t know. I can protect you. I won’t let anything hurt you!”

Brooke was almost close to breaking down. She looked at him, and sighed. He d
idn’t know the baggage she came with. It wasn’t a question of protecting her. It was so much more than that. No one around her would be safe anymore. Only if she left, would Paul leave Applecross alone. She brushed the back of her hand on his deep stubble and pressed down a kiss on his cheek. She would miss him. With a last look at his forlorn eyes, she got into the bus wordlessly. She looked back to find James, pain etched all over his face, almost wishing that the bus would stop and she would come running back. But fairy tales were never meant for her. Not with the devil after her life. She looked outside her windows as a sleepy sun peeped in through the thick cloud cover slowly, colouring the horizon a deep purplish red. The last morning at the place she almost called home. A sleet of drizzle along with reluctant tears moistened her face as she peered outside her window to breathe in the air that enthralled and protected her, and that she had come to love. Those woods, her animals, her kitchen, Martha, James. The familiar roads flashed by, as she recalled bitterly that she had lost count of the number of times that she had to leave without goodbyes. Well, this was different.

The sun had risen completely, spreading its warmth on freshly washed meadows and dispersed the last of the clouds. She captured the picture in her mind’s eyes and held onto a ray of hope. He would find me wherever I am, she kept chanting before sleep claimed her swift and soft.

Richard couldn’t make the plane move faster. He kept fidgeting and twitching about in his seat, till the landing was announced. He almost knocked the stewards and passengers out of his way as he ran to the arrival gates. He simple left a considerable amount at the car rental’s counter and randomly picked up a set of keys.
He recalled the last time he had been driving down the treacherous roads leading to Applecross. He didn’t sit back and bask in the glorious morning overlooking the dangerous mountains and the opalescent roadside. He weaved in and out of the multitude of cars and drove as hard as he could to reach in time. In time for what, he dreaded to think. He didn’t notice a heavyset gloomy bus pass by him, neither a pair of shocked eyes that looked down at him from her windows. It was a flash that she could make out, of the wild ashen faced Rick stamping on the gas pedal, as he sped by Brooke’s bus. Just a flash? Was that all she would be granted? She knew her life would be short. She fell back on her seat and prayed, fervently for the first time, mustering what faith she could, that she was able to see him one last time before she succumbs to death.