Love Is Moons Away

Chapter 3- Run

I creep from alley to alley, heading to east India. I nearly jump at every sound. Dog barking=heart attack. Door opening or closing= jumping. Basically everything causes my heart to race at inhuman speeds.
I don't know how far I've walked, but I think at least twenty four miles. The sun has been up for four hours. That's means ( Since I've been walking since 11 P.M.) I've been walking twelve hours. My feet hurt. I'm hungry and thirsty, and my necklace hasn't gotten any warmer.
I curse myself. I thought it had gotten warmer earlier when I was heading this way, but now realize that since I was so nervous of being caught, that I was sweating and flushed a shit ton.
I need to start heading in the other direction. But I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. But I already saw my name in the news. When I saw it flashing on the screens lining the streets, I put on my vintage pair of sunglasses. I added some extra bronzer to make myself seem tanner. I also increased my boot heel to make myself taller.
I decide to head back to a homeless shelter I saw to stay the night. I know I won't fit in but they aren't allowed to ask questions.
    I'm heading out of the alley, and walking down the busy street when I think I hear something. I start to dismiss it, just my imagination. But I hear it again. Footsteps. I don't turn around, but panic seizes my heart. I pick up my slow speed to a normal walking pace.
    I turn onto another street, and keep doing random lefts and rights in hope of losing the footsteps. Finally, I turn into an alley and take deep, calm, relaxing breaths.
    And someone is grabbing me from behind.
    "What the fu-" I start to scream, but a hand covers my mouth. I start thrashing, and make contact with this strangers... ummm... area. A male grunt emerges from behind me. I bite down on his hand, and he finally lets go. I start running but am met with a dead end. I turn around to go the other way, but the guy is blocking the exit.
    "Let me go!" I scream.
    "Do you want to get caught?" he whispers. A hood is masking his face. I squint my eyes trying to make out any details, but to no prevail.
    "Who are you?" I whisper.
    "The more interesting question, is who are you?" he smirks. The slyness in this guys voice annoys me. But it also reminds me of Gray.
    "I'm no one. Just a girl on the run, and nothing more," I calculate my words with caution. The boy pulls down his hood, and I gasp. I know that face. But I don't know from where. He is clearly a mix of many races.
He has blonde hair that shines with pale gold. Eyes that are like carmel. Tall. Towering over me tall. He is lanky, but I can tell he is strong. Everything about him is sharp, but I won't deny it's attractive. He bites his lip, and saunters slowly forward.
"Really? Well, girl on the run, you look an awful lot like this girl," he pulls a small screen out of his pocket that reveals my face. "This girl, her name is Anthia. Anthia... Edwin... Rose."
The pause between my first, middle, and last name makes me cringe. The boy is circling around me. There is no escape unless I can outrun him. That seems unlikely considering my physical abilities.
"So you know who I am. But that doesn't matter. The only thing that matters, is what you're going to do with me," I respond, my good old friend sarcasm making its way into my voice. He chuckles.
"So the viper can bite!" He laughs, throwing his head back to emphasize his amusement.
"I'm not here to turn you in, my dear. No," he pauses and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I am here to help."
I jerk back.
"Why would you want to help ME?!" I ask incredulously. He raises his eyebrows. He takes another step closer, staring deep into my eyes. I'm trapped in the beam of his stare. I don't realize how close he is, when he is literally towering over me.
"And why wouldn't I help you?" He whispers.
"Because you don't even know me. I'm just a stranger from the streets," I whisper. Confusion has lodged its way into my throat.
"You're right. I DON'T know you. But I do know that look in your eyes. The desperate cold. And I feel the cold, too. And I know, that no one deserves to feel that way,"
I've never heard such despair, passion, and anger in one sentence. I break away from his glance.
Should I trust him? He might just be shitting with me. Might just return me to my parents. But...maybe not. He could be sincere. I think he is. He is. I know he is.
I look up into those caramel eyes. And it's like I've finally been understood. Gray understood partially, but not the whole being alone thing.
But this guy, he knew what is was like. And I didn't feel like hiding from him. I felt like opening up.
"Thank you," I whisper. He smiles, and throws his arm around my shoulders. I can see the happiness of me accepting his deal.
"For now, we get something to eat!" He shouts gallantly. I laugh and walk with him. I'm not used to letting people put their arm around me so easily, but with this guy, I can tell that's not an option.
"So, what's your name?" I ask, realizing the introductions had not been made.
"I am Shane Devin Kooper. Criminal mastermind, and wonderful gay man!" he laughs. At first, I stumble a little at the criminal part, and stop completely after the gay part. He looks back at me, wondering why I wasn't still by his side.
My mouth hangs open, but then I quickly close it. I don't want to be impolite. He realizes what has stopped me, and pulls out his necklace. The gold glints in the light. I walk up slowly, taking each step with caution. When I am finally standing under him, I grab the gold medallion. Its half of a decorated sun, with intricate metal work. The necklace is cold as hell. I look him straight in the eye.
"Your necklace is beautiful," I whisper. He smiles, but it's the saddest smile I've ever seen. He closes his hand around mine, giving the necklace a little cocoon. 
"Thank you. I have the other half, I just choose not to wear them together."
"And why is that?" My voice is extremely hoarse.
"My other half has passed away. Wearing his necklace is to painful of a reminder," he admitted. Shane breaks away, and I can see the tears in his eyes.
"Sorry. Let's go," I whisper. He nods, and wipes at his eyes. We walk side by side, towards the light from the street. I panic when we're about to exit. Don't people recognize us? Shane puts a light hand on my shoulder, giving me a comforting look.
I take a big breath, and walk into the sun light. I didn't realize how tired I had gotten during the length of the conversation. My legs felt like jelly, and my mind was groggy from trying to put together two words with no hours of sleep.
I pull my beanie low, trying to hide my identity. Shane leads me along to a small diner in the middle of an abandoned street. The little bell rings as he opens the door.
"Maurice! How ya doin'!" Shane shouts. An old woman comes from the back room, with glasses as large as icicles. She comes and pats his face.
I leave the conversation, and sit down in a booth at the corner of the restaurant. My heart races as people enter the small restaurant named Maurice's.
I feel so tired. My eyes have almost shut, when Shane slides in the booth.
"This food is the shit. I would marry it if I could!" He pushes a plate of curry near me. I take the spoon and take a small sip. I nearly die.
"This is the best thing I've ever eaten!" I sing. Then I chow down. I didn't realize how hungry I had been.
With my tummy full, I was getting extremely sleepy. Too sleepy. I started to fall to the side of the seat when I noticed the metallic taste from the curry. He had tricked me!!!!!
Now I'm going to be returned to my parents. Shit. Why did I let myself trust him?!
.....................................................
I wake up in a cell. My bag is gone, and my clothes are ruffled. I'm assuming it's from a search. My shoes and socks are gone. But I still have my favorite beanie for some odd reason.
My bare feet slap on the cold cement as I walk to the caged doors. I know the answer, but I shake the bars to find them locked.
I pace back and forth. How do I get out? Are there any guards? Where's my stuff?
My hand runs along the wall, trying to find a crevice for me pull at. It's funny of me to think I'll find a trick door, but I still can hope.
I scrape my hand at a loose rock, and find my hand, with a large cut. I consider ripping my shirt, but it's one of the few shirts I have. To hell with it, I think. I rip of lining of my under shirt (the only one I packed) and wrap it around my bleeding hand.
This one's a bleeder though. It quickly stains the white fabric into a blood rose color. Instead of wrapping it constantly, I wad up the bloody fabric over my injured hand, and wrap one more piece of cloth from my under shirt. It's still stains some of it, but it's mostly staunches the bleeding.
I slide down the wall, and start crying. How could I ever last one my own? I don't know anything. As my crying dwindles, footsteps sound right outside the cell door.
I jump up, and run to the door. And guess who stand there! My old friend Shane!
"You BASTARD! I TRUSTED YOU!" I scream. He jumps back, guilt making its way into his posture.
"I had too. They wouldn't let you in unless you were drugged," he whispers.
"Who is they?" I retort, my words dripping icy venom. Shane looks up, tears lining his eyes. I find myself surprised. I didn't realize how cold I had been.
But why was he the one crying? He caused this, so he should have expected some not so nice words from me! I do not understand men at all!
"Shane, Pres wants to see her," a voice sounds behind him. It was clearly a woman.
She comes up and unlocks the cell I've been caged in. I consider running to try and escape, but she's so...burly, that I don't dare try. Ropes are tied around my hands behind my back. Her rough hand grabs my arm, dragging me.
Shane follows close behind. I look back and notice him wiping away evident tears. He looks up and notices me watching him. Grabs my other arm to lead me. His grip is strong, so I can't yank it away.
We get to an elevator, and head down eighteen floors. I lock that number in my mind. We enter a large hall, filled with what feels like thousands of people. I stop at the beauty of it. Statutes line the walls. Tapestries, that I can practically see the sweat made to craft such beauty, hang and cover every space on the walls. And in the back of the room, is a long lifted table, much like one you see in court.
Thirteen people take a raised chair at the table. But there is one in the middle that is raised higher than the rest. The woman appears to be in her forties, and her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight bun. Her piercing gray eyes track my every step closer to the table. 
When the woman rises, so does everyone else. I keep my head down, like I've done something wrong, even though they drugged me. When I finally lift my eyes to meet hers, she nods, and takes her seat once more.
"Miss. Rose," she resounded. "Shall we begin?"