Cuffed. [Norman Reedus]

25* "Your Ass-ka?"

Chapter Twenty-Five ::: "Your Ass-ka?"

{*UNEDITED*}

"We have to leave; I know—I know I sound like a psychopath but—but you really have to listen. I'm not bullshitting you." I try my best to explain to Ella what the hell is going on. I caught her on her lunch break and pulled her into a security closet to avoid the eyes and ears of her coworkers. This couldn't wait. "We're limited to time. I—I—I'm limited to time,"

"Norman. Norman, Norman. Calm down." she says sternly. "Tell me what happened. Why aren't you at work?"

"Well, I just, last night! I couldn't stop thinking about what you said and how I didn't say something back to you. And then—remember how I told you about my mom—well, she showed up at my door and—" I can barely calm myself or slow down my racing thoughts and careening speech. 

"Wait, back up. What do you mean 'say something back' to me?" she asks.

"Uhh, it's really quite hard to explain." my forehead sweats.

Her eyebrow goes up. 

"Well, you know," I don't know how to go about saying it. "Can you keep a secret?" I end up just repeating what she said to me last night, hoping that she takes the hint.

"Norman," her eyes go darker, and her face floods with realization. "Who?! W-why?" she begs for clarification, and I don't blame her. I just threw the same curveball at her face, and I'm about to throw another one.

"August. 1999. My mother's boyfriend. I did it for her safety, but—but she has a really hard time accepting that and—and anyway, that's not really the point right now!" I get so caught up in my own thoughts that I feel like I'm stumbling and tripping, face planting into the concrete. "She showed up again! Today."

"And? What about that? Maybe she just wanted to talk through—" Ella tries to work through it, but I cut her off.

"She put a fucking gun to my head, Ella. The only psychopath here is her." I decide not to tell her how I got out of the situation; I wasn't sure how she would react, and all I wanted was to hurry through this conversation and just leave this town.

"Why the hell didn't you call the police?!" she raises her voice, and I have to hush her remembering we are, in fact, only separated from the public by a thin metal door.

"What the hell would I tell them? 'Oh, hi, I'm calling to report a crazy lady. But really, she's only being crazy because I murdered her boyfriend by beating him to death. Anyway, could you come arrest her? Oh and by the way, me too.'" I pause. "She's mad, and I committed a felony. There's no way out."

Ella struggles for something to say. "Well, I mean, it was like years and years ago? There's no real evidence that you actually killed the guy. You could just tell them that she's crazy." she suggests.

I stare at her for a moment, pondering her advice. "That would work. But I already have a criminal record in this town, so the odds aren't necessarily in my favor for staying a free man. Especially if I go to them with an angry lady who watched me commit the crime."

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or more like, stuck between a bullet and a jail cell. The only thing I could think of doing was fleeing to Ella and begging her to leave town with me. It works in all the movies, for the most part, and I really didn't have any other options.

"So," Ella starts. "Why are you coming to me with this information."

"Because I'm a fucking idiot, and I really really really like you." I state with one breath, looking down at her shadowed face. "And you're the only other murderer I know in this little town, so I figured you would understand maybe even a hint about what I'm feeling." I add.

If we weren't in the tough situation we were in right now, I would've made her laugh right then and there. But the mood surrounding us was dark, scary, and also dark. 

"Where would we go? What about Boone?" she asks.

I haven't convinced her yet, but I'm willing to talk to her for as long as it takes. Perhaps I will not be successful and we will part ways in the next hour or so, not knowing when we will return to each other. I gotta try, though.

"Alaska? Nebraska?" I blurt out the first states that come to mind, shrugging. I hadn't really thought it through since, once again, I'm an idiot. 

"Your ass-ka?" Ella attempts to make a joke, but it's short-lived. "And Boone?"

I shrug again. "I probably wouldn't tell him. And then when all of this blows over, we can reunite one day."

"You think it will work out by itself? You think your mother is the quitting type? I mean, I've never met this lady but 1999 is a long time ago. I would imagine that her next move would be to track you down again." Ella pelts me with contradictions, and I have a hard time dodging them. 

"She doesn't have Boone to rat on me this time. And plus, it's not just my mom that's the problem. It's the police. If they can't track me down, they'll probably realize how crazy she is and—" 

"Hold up," Ella stops me. "That's a lot of 'if's and 'probably's. What if none of it goes that way?" 

"Erg!" I start to get angry, debating with myself whether it was a mistake to come to Ella or not. "Why are there so many problems in my life?!" I spin around and gently kick the wall. It doesn't help relieve my anger, though.

"What? These are things you have to think about if you want to erase your name and flee the country," she claims, defending her billions of questions. 

"I'm not fleeing the coun—That's besides the point right now. . . Why can't we just go?" I ask. "I packed some stuff in the truck. Buck is in there too."

"You have a truck? I thought you only rode that death motorcycle thing. . ." Ella points out.

"I put my bike in the truck. . . The thing barely runs but there's more space for all my stuff; I bought it when I moved here, and haven't used it in like―" I have to keep setting myself back on the right track of why I'm here. "Again, that's besides the point. Leaving is why I'm here: We could leave right now, stop by your house and stop at the bank, and tell everyone we're just going on vacation for a couple of weeks."

Ella turns her face to the ground, shaking her head. I cross my fingers behind my back. She's a hell of a lot smarter than me, so bringing her on this trip would be a fabulous thing. We could play it by ear. Cross bridges when we get to them. "The only thing you would have to worry about is saying yes. If you say no, I'm telling you now, your life will stay the same. You won't be at risk. I don't want to be the one putting you in this situation. But you know I had to make sure that you didn't want to go with me considering you have also kille—"

"I know." she says quietly.

Keep your mouth shut, Norman. She's thinking about it. Let her think. I stare and wait patiently with her. "If you go with me. . . I can't promise anything; especially safety." I end up saying something anyway. I want to at least speak the truth. If I lie to her and say that we will be holed up in a Bahama's beach house for weeks as we wait for this storm to blow over, I'd be lying. I don't know how much money I have, I don't know how smart or stupid my mom is, and I don't know how long we can hide. All I know is that it will be a hell of an adventure, and who knows. . . we may end up cuffed together once again.

Her gaze stays locked on the ground, her body swaying slightly. I feel guilty already. I shouldn't have come here. I'm an idiot. I'm pulling her into the quicksand with me. After two or so more minutes of complete silence, I decide to do something.

Before saying anything, I lean closer to her and find her fingers in the dark. "This was a bad idea," I say quietly. There's nothing else I can say to make it right, so I kiss her on the forehead and walk out of the supply closet.

My heart plummets downward to my feet becoming a ball of heavy lead. I have no choice but to carry the weight out to my car without Ella beside me. Even the thought of her in distress with me is a worse feeling than leaving her in safety, so I tell myself I'm doing this for the greater good. I'd rather her have to carry on with her life without the trouble of myself here to ruin it.