“Back here, Leah.”
Hearing the voice, I rounded the building and spotted my mother and father, reclining in the shade of a tree in their old lawn chairs. As always, they looked like death.
Yellowed skin, thin arms, my mother's eyes were watery and red when she looked my way. Dad was no better, but most of his issues were internal, less obvious. My parents used to joke that the only reason they were alive was from their steady diet of beer and cigarettes keeping them embalmed by toxins.
I don't know if they actually thought that was a joke.
“Hey mom, dad.” I smiled, hoisting my bags, standing there awkwardly. This stuff always sounded better in my head than when executed. But, here I was, needing to at least tell them I was leaving. “How are you guys?”
“Terrible,” my dad grumbled, looking me up and down. “Where are you off to?”
“Actually, I'm... sort of going away.” I blinked, adjusting my strap. “I'm going to California.”
“Oh, really,” mom laughed. “That's got to be expensive. What will you do with your car?”
It was a strange question, that her first concern was my car. “I sold it.”
She rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her plastic cup. I knew whatever was in there wasn't water. “You could've told us first, we could've used it.”
“Uh, sorry.” This was a bad idea.
Dad didn't say anything at first, then he leaned back, frowning. “Mn. Listen. Things are tight around here. Think you could loan us a little money, if you've got enough to go to California?”
Do you not even remember, how much I wanted to do this, years ago? I wanted to scream at them, to shake them, just yell, 'I'm leaving, I might not come back, don't you care!?'
But I didn't, I'd never have had the guts to do anything like that. “I mean, I'm using all my money to do this,” even as I spoke, I found myself digging in my pocket. Offering my dad a twenty from the cash I had on hand, he took with a nod.
“Thanks sweety, we ran out of cigarettes, this will help.”
I wished he hadn't been blunt enough to admit what the money was for.
“Well,” I started uneasily, “I'll call you sometime. Alright?” They stood up to hug me, I couldn't help noticing how frail they both felt, just bags of bones in my arms.
“Take care of yourself,” Dad said. Mom only smiled. They seemed strangely bitter, almost taking my good news personally. My suspicion was they were angry that I was somehow escaping this place, when they still couldn't.
If they'd had their way, I'd have given them my car, everything I had, then just stayed around, giving up everything to satisfy them both. A task that was impossible.
I can't let anyone control me anymore, through guilt or fear or otherwise. I can only move forward.
Chapter 3.
––––––––
That night, I slept in the airport.
I had lied when I told my parents I was in a hurry. I'd been doing a lot of lying, lately. My flight wasn't until the early morning, so I curled up in my sweater on a bench at my gate, drained by everything. I wanted to be excited about this, about flying across the country, but I was starting to get nervous.
The buzzing in my pocket caused me to jerk violently, a rush of fear flooding my senses. Gripping the blinking device, I saw the number, recognizing it instantly as Owen. Oh god, he's already wondering where I am.
With wide eyes, muscles straining uncomfortably, I stared at the blinking screen until it died out. There was no moment to feel relief, not when the next call came. I was tempted to turn it off entirely, but a part of me was just as anxious about not knowing if he was trying to contact me.
Just don't answer, don't do it.
He left me a voice-mail, then moments later, sent me a brief text message instructing me to 'call him back.' Shivering, I slid the device back into my purse, hugging myself into a tight ball. You're fine, everything is fine, he doesn't have a clue where you are. Shutting my eyes, I forced myself to breathe calmly, then tried to fall asleep.
My dreams were on and off, strange amorphous things that involved screaming, furious eyes. Sometimes, I would come awake if someone spoke nearby, thinking it was Owen. I knew that was impossible, of course, he didn't even know I was leaving. Why would he come to the airport?
Still, I was edgy, unable to fall asleep after the second time I thought I heard him say my name.
When the sun began rising, bringing light through the large terminal windows, I felt a small thrill of relief. This was it, this was going to be the start of a new day for me. I'd go across the country, no one would ever have to know about my life before that moment. Not my abusive ex (for he was certainly my ex now) or how I had put up with it for so long. Not my broken, greedy family in their own pit of despair. I could be free of it all, no one would know.
No one would know me.
My back was tight, tender as I slipped from my chair. Being reminded of yesterday's assault did little for my mood. I was the first in line when they finally began boarding. Handing my ticket to the woman, she looked it over carefully. “Leah Rook?”
“Yup, that's me.”
That was all, she didn't care about who I was, only if I was on this flight or not. She'd forget me, then move on to the next person. But I didn't care, I didn't need to be remembered here.
The flight was packed, the trip would be long, that was fine. I was excited to be doing this, to feel the plane take off, for my stomach to drop into my feet.
All too fast, we were in the sky, and the view was astounding. Everything became an abstract stretch of color, until finally the clouds just hid it all.
When there was nothing to see but an ocean of white, I pulled my hood over my head, taking a much needed nap.
****
I was grateful when we landed. Everything ached, each sore muscle exacerbated by falling asleep with my face crushed against the window, my neck bent at an angle it never should have been. Rubbing it, I followed the line of people down the ramp, wandering through the airport with a slowly growing smile. I was here, I was in California, but it still didn't feel real. Not yet. I needed to get out of the terminal for that. With no luggage besides my laptop and backpack, I didn't need to wait around.
The doors rose up before me, the airport so large it took some time to reach them. But I could see the sun, all I wanted to do was get out there, to feel it.
Hands came down over my face from behind, blocking my vision, making my heart freeze. The things that went through my head in that brief moment, I won't pretend I wasn't convinced Owen had somehow stalked me. Impossible, of course, but...
I broke away, spinning around to spot the smiling, oblivious face of Vanessa. Tall, leggy, with her glossy cropped ebony hair and that tan skin, she reminded me of Cleopatra. As beautiful as I remembered her, if not more so; a welcome sight.
“Guess who!” She cried, then wrapped me in a hug so hard I was sure she'd feel my fluttering heart. She pulled back, looking so proud of herself that I had to smile. The fear must have been lingering on me, because her grin twitched, her hands lowering to her sides. “Are you okay, did something happen?”
“Oh, no, I'm fine.” Laughing, forcing the sound, I grabbed her in another hug until she had no choice but to believe me. “So,” I beamed, glancing around the airport. “This is California!”
“No,” Vanessa said, grabbing my wrist, tugging me through the exit doors. “This is California.”
Warm, soothing, the sun kissed my skin, made me shut my eyes. Before I did, I caught a glimpse of the blue sky, palm trees standing even taller than my friend. I felt it then, felt the reality of uprooting myself, of escaping everything. How could I have possibly questioned this decision, spontaneous as it was?
I hugged Vanessa while I laughed helplessly. The people around us stared as we jumped in a circle, both full of unbridled joy and a tingling, powerful energy that fed off of each other.
I was here. I had finally done it.
****
With the top down, sunglasses on, my hair blowing in the wind, I felt like royalty. Driving around, I saw so much color, so much life. This was far better than my old New England state, it didn't feel like poverty or failure.
“So, is there anywhere you want to go first?” She asked, turning down the music, speeding a little fast around a corner. I had to give her credit, she could drive well, but it struck me as reckless.
Swallowing as someone honked at us, I shrugged. “Honestly, I don't care. I'm a little hungry, do you want to show me where I'm staying or get some food?”
“Food,” she declared, the car squealing around another turn.
I was relieved when we pulled into a small diner, my stomach rumbling, craving something better than the junk the airport had promised. We sat in a squishy booth, my hands lifting the small, paper menu printed with overpriced food.
Welcome to California, indeed.
“So,” Vanessa said, linking her fingers, staring over them at me. Her eyes, a crisp blue, far more pretty than my own tired brown ones, squinted hard. “Tell me, now that you're sober, does this really seem like a good decision?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, thumbing my butter knife idly. I didn't like the implication in her voice.
“You know what I mean. Were things really that bad that you had to fly across the country to get away?”
“You suggested it,” I scowled, feeling defensive.
Vanessa paused, grabbing the water a waiter had just set down for us. When he was gone, she took a sip, looking back at me. “I know I suggested it. I'm just asking, you know, if your relationship was worth abandoning like that.”
Draining some of my own drink, I set it down, staring into the clear liquid, seeking answers that weren't there. “Of course it was. Is. Whatever, Vanessa, I just...” I sighed, holding my cheeks, propping my head up on my elbows. I could see it in her eyes, that same look Colby had given me before. Pity? Is that pity?
“You want me to repeat it all for you again? You want me to tell you all the stupid ways he would break me down, or how he scared me? Do you need me to remind you that yesterday morning, yesterday morning,” I inhaled sharply, my body tensing at the recent memory, the bruise throbbing sympathetically.
“Hey, whoa,” she placed a hand on top of mine, shaking her head quickly. “Sorry, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you relive that.”
I gave a weak smile, trying to wrangle my thoughts. “I have other things I want to worry about right now. I just came across the country to get away from him, you know? I want to talk about other things, do other things!” I laughed, hearing my own bitterness. “Vanessa, I don't want anything to do with relationships right now, talking or otherwise. At all. I'm just... done.”
Her laugh was self-conscious, and I squinted, baffled. “Relationship stuff, I get that you don't want to hear it, or deal with it. I think you're right, you should keep away from dating, heal up some.”
I didn't want to comment on that, to mention this was more than healing. I was nervous of even the thought of how someone might react if they knew how weak, how fragile I had been in the past. I'm a victim of some shameful stuff, if someone knew, they'd look at me with pity or think I was pathetic for putting up with it for so long. I couldn't... I don't want that.
I was paranoid about messing things up after finally making it out to California, I didn't want to have to run away again. No, I was done with all that.
“It's just me, my problems,” she went on, “my uh, boyfriend, we're having some issues, I just was thinking about what you're doing. Running here, I mean, instead of trying to fix it.”
She must have seen the brief scowl, because she lifted her hands, as if protecting herself. “No, sorry. You shouldn't have to try and fix things with Owen, I'm just... scared. I was thinking of what I'd do if my boyfriend left suddenly like that, is all.”
That hurt, I hadn't wanted to consider feeling bad about leaving Owen. He might not even know we're broken up, I did sort of leave out of the blue. I didn't even tell him where I was going, or where I am now, like I promised I would.
Scratching at my nose, I studied the frown lines on my friend's face. “Hey,” I said, forcing a grin. I tapped her on the head with my menu, making her blink. “Look. It's okay. You can tell me what's going on.”
Vanessa was quick to pour out her heart once allowed. She told me her boyfriend, Greg, had been distant, often letting her down as of late. We managed to order food between her endless sentences, so I munched on some truffle fries, which frankly didn't taste like truffle at all, while also digesting her words.
“So,” she said, poking at a sandwich she had hardly touched, “I'm just worried he's thinking of breaking up with me.”
“I still don't quite get why, though. What do you guys even fight about?”
“Other girls,” she frowned, reaching over, taking one of my fries. “Okay, one girl. She works with him, though.”
“Huh. I mean, do you think he'd actually cheat on you?”
She seemed to consider that a bit too long, especially. “I'm honestly not sure he wouldn't.”
I was about to ask more, but she suddenly grabbed at her phone, flipping it open, reading a text. “Oh, damn. We need to hurry up.”
“Why?” I was content to sit and sip my soda, chew my food, relax a moment.
Vanessa threw down some money, standing so fast her dark hair swished violently. “I didn't tell you? There's a big bonfire tonight, you'll get to meet my friends, it'll be fun!”
Emulating how she'd tossed down some cash, I hurried to follow her out the door. “Uh, hold on, a party? How could you forget that kind of thing?”
We slid into the car, where she paused long enough to look at me, pulling down her sunglasses, hiding her eyes. “Well, there's a party almost every night! I forgot you wouldn't know that.”
I stared. “Every night?”
Her grin was sharp, the car starting with a roar. “Welcome to California!”
Chapter 4.
––––––––
We pulled into the beach parking lot, the sun glaring down enough that my glasses helped very little. Vanessa suggested I grab my bathing suit from my bag and bring it to get changed, so I reluctantly agreed.
Walking on the hot sand, feeling it on my toes as we crossed the huge beach towards a small building, it was all kind of surreal. Back home, I would never have imagined going to the beach this time of year. Yet here I was, sweltering in the sun, nervous of getting burned.
“You shouldn't go in the ocean, though,” she warned me as she changed in a booth beside me. “The sun is nice, but that water is still really cold, I'm betting.”
I had other worries than swimming. In my booth, I tugged my bikini into place, staring at myself in the mirror. Did I look alright? I had seen a number of scantily clad women as we wandered down, all of them looked stunning to me. It just seemed amazing, to see so many fit people in one place.
Looking myself up and down in the greasy mirror, I felt more anxious about my body than ever before. Owen had always been very critical, quick to point out my flaws in the name of 'helping me.' It was part of why I gave in to his controlling ways with my diet. Still, I poked at my skin, thinking I looked far too pasty for California.
Twisting, I studied my back, catching a glimpse of the sickly purple, blossoming bruise across my right side and shoulder. The sight of it elicited a grimace from me, the mark a sordid reminded of the scenario I was still working hard to erase from my memory.
In the end, I pulled my hoodie around me, zipping it up, leaving my legs exposed but feeling a little more protected. Stepping out of the room, I nearly bumped into Vanessa, who huffed at me in her bright red one piece. “What do you think you're doing?”
“I'm not sure I'm ready to just... you know.” I gave her a quick once-over, admiring her long legs, her flat stomach, and most of all, her tan skin
. “I think I might need to take this slow.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching out, unzipping my sweater. Exposed in my teal bikini, I gasped, grabbing at the zipper, blushing furiously. “Come on! Quit it, just give me a break.”
“You look fine,” she giggled, patting her stomach while staring in the mirror. “You look better than me, so shut up and leave that unzipped.”
I didn't agree with her assessment, but I relented, just happy enough she hadn't seen the bruise on my back. I'm not taking this sweater off, not today. I couldn't handle the questions about where the marks came from. Carrying our shirts and pants in our arms, we headed down to the beach.
“So what's this party for, again?” I asked, hiding behind my sunglasses. The wind was strong, it kept whipping my long hair around, tickling my face.
“Nothing really, it's just a bonfire.” Vanessa paused, dodging a pair of bikers as we crossed a section of flat pavement that cut the beach in two. “I guess it's technically Tim's birthday, but no one will remember that.”
Well, she remembered, that has to count. I just hope I remember who any of these people are.
“Tim?”
“Just a friend, you'll see,” she said, so I left it at that.
I felt a little nervous to be meeting a group of strangers, but I couldn't admit that, so I buried the fear down as far as possible. New Leah wants to make friends, I'm not going to keep being isolated, time to fix that!
I tried to convince myself I could be social and handle this, swallowing the grit in my throat as we wandered over the sand towards everyone. They were standing around a fire pit which was burning lightly, despite the sun still being out.
“Hey, Vanessa!” A thin guy, paler than me, somehow not burning to a crisp, called out. She laughed, giving him a hug as he came running up. Watching them, I stood nearby awkwardly.
“Tim, hi!” She giggled, bouncing in place, acting more excited than I had seen her so far.
He looked friendly, if I had to pick a word. Those cheerful blue eyes came my way, then he smiled crookedly. “Hey there, you must be Vanessa's friend!”
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 85