•Running Forever•

Chapter 7. Seventh Step.

I wish there was a way to escape.

To escape from him, and from Him.

But Char was over top of me, the utter fear in his bright eyes kept me pinned down.

My name hung in the air for a moment, as he tried to find his voice.

"What. . . . . . what did you do to yourself?"

The raw disgust in his voice had me unglued from the bed.

He thought I did this to myself?

I kicked him in the chest, and rolled off the bed.

"Harley, Harley, wait!"

He called after me as I stormed down the hallway, the world reeled as tears formed in my eyes.

I wiped them away, he wouldn't make me cry.

I could hear loud footsteps behind me, he was following me.

He thought....he thought I was one of those self-inflicting masochists who enjoys pain.

I hated it.

Maybe he thought I was insane, and he certainly couldn't let a crazy girl loose on the streets.

Arms enclosed themselves around my waist.

"Stop. . Harley. Wait. Speak to me. " Char's breath was laboured.

I thrust my elbows back into him, and found my own voice, loud, angry....afraid.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

He let go, and I lurched forward, running down the hall into the living room. The running gave me a chance to think. I had to leave, now.

"Where are my clothes?" I demanded, whirling around to face him. He had just reached the living room, panting, nervous, exhausted.

His hair was a mess, his eyes were blazing.

"C'mon Harley. I'm s-ssorry. Just, talk to me. Let me help." He put his hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath.

Charles wanted to play theropist. He wanted to pick my brain, find out who I was.

Maybe he was just a nice guy.

But no one is ever nice to me, there was a catch.

"I don't need your help." I spat back, the vemon in my words must have stung;  he grimaced.

"Did s-someone hurt you?" He offered.

I scowled and marched around the room. If he wouldn't give me my clothes I'd find them myself.

He realized I was ingoring him, so the questions began to fly.

"A stranger, a boyfriend? Who? Please Harley, you need to have those checked."

The level of worry in his voice made my stomach twist, wetness rolled down my face and I couldn't

surpress the sniffle, I searched through a cabinet aimlessly with my back to him. As long as he couldn't see the hurt I knew would be in my eyes...

But he was behind me, and grabbed my arms.

"Look at me, Harley."

He turned me around, and grabbed my face with warm, warm gentles hands. Char tilted my face

towards his, our eyes met.

"Who. Did. This. To. You?"

The slowly spoken words filled my ears, digging out the words from my brain.

I sucked in a breath, shaking.

My legs gave out, but he held me, up, hitching an arm around my waist and pulling me against him.

I grabbed onto his shirt, my hands in fists. I sobbed into his chest, it came pouring out.

"Him. Him. Him. Him." I hit my fists weakly against his chest with each word.

"Who?"

I sniffled again, looking up at his questioning face.

"My father."

Char's face fell.

"Y-Your...your dad did this to you? Harley..."

He pulled me over to the couch, letting me lay there as he hurried into the kitchen.

I laid down, resting my head on the pillow.

"What are you doing?" I called, my voice was drowning in the tears I couldn't stop.

"Calling for help, this man.. your Father, needs to be arrested." He replied.

I shot up on the couch,

"What? No! Don't! Stop!"

Char's head poked out from kitchen.

"Why not?"

Yes Harley, why not?

If my Father was arrested, it'd be all over. Show them the bruises, have Him locked up for beating his own daughter. But I tried to go the police, so many, many times. He found her there, somehow, some way he'd prove that I had done it to myself. Then that night, there would be twice the pain.

But there was no way to make Charles understand that.

"You, you just can't!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around my aching stomach.

Charles shook his head, returning to the kitchen.

"Something has to be done about this Harley..."

"No!" I yelled, I had to stop him..now...before it was too late.

A threat...

"I'll leave if you do!"

That caught his attention.

"Are you kidding? I'm trying to help you Harley!"

There was a pause, and his voice was quieter when he spoke again.

"Hello, 911?"

I was out the door.

I didn't care about my clothes anymore, the cold air meant nothing.

I just needed to get away.

I was almost gone too, I had reached the end of his snowy driveway.

Those familar arms held me again, only I didn't elbow him away this time.

"Okay, Harley, okay. You win. I won't call. Just please, stay, please, okay?"

I gave into the pleading, it was hard to say no to him, especially like this.

He held me so sweetly, and he had dropped the phone just to race out and stop me.

Char actually cared. He wanted to help me.

".......Can I have some more pancakes?" My voice was tiny. 

Charles laughed, and didn't say no to me either.