Stolen Love

17

17

It feels so good to not have to wear the boot anymore. My leg feels free again. I have to admit, though, I was a little nervous when Joseph was examining my leg. He could've been even more psychotic than I thought and told me that he needs to cut it open to stick some sort of rod in it or something extreme like that. I know it sounds far fetched, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Ok, that should do it. You don't even need to wear the boot anymore. Because of where the fracture was, you shouldn't need to do any physical therapy either," he says.

"So I can walk on it?" I ask dumbly.

He laughs, "You can walk, jump, and run on it. It's fully healed."

"Thank god," I say, "It probably healed so good because he," I point at Chris, "Wouldn't let me walk half the time."

Chris laughs, "I didn't carry you around that much!"

"Yeah, whatever you say." Chris starts to pout. Joseph laughs at our childishness.

"You guys are cute together," Joseph says but stops, "Oh gosh, I'm starting to sound like my wife. It's probably best that I get home to her."

Chris and I take that as our cue to leave. I stand up, it feels great to be using my leg again. I'll never do something stupid to it again.

I wonder how nasty it looks beneath my jeans. Pale and no longer toned with muscle. I was looking away and had my eyes shut tight while Joseph was taking it off. It's probably best that I didn't see it. I'm not quite ready for that sight.

I'm reaching for my crutches, then stop. Habits are hard to break. I pull my empty hands back to my side. Chris leads the way out of the back room, and back in to the waiting room. "Thanks for helping with her," Chris says to Joseph. I hate it when people talk as if I'm not here. "I don't know what I would've done."

"It's cool. Sometimes you just need a little push in the right direction."

Chris laughs lightly, as if it's an inside joke. "I guess you're right."

I open my mouth to say something, but fall short. There really isn't anything that I should or need to say at the moment. We grab our jackets from the chairs.

"See you around?" Chris asks once we reach the door to leave.

"Of course, and maybe you can see Tara and your nieces."

"Sounds great," Chris says opening the door. "Bye."

I mumble a short, "Bye," at the same time Joseph's dominant voice says it. We close the door and make the quick walk to the car. I probably look as stiff as an icicle when we get to the car. Why am I so cold?

As soon as Chris starts the car, I turn the heat on. I'm quickly enveloped in a layer of heat.

I look at the time, it's already 10 p.m. "Time for a long drive back," I mutter. Long cars rides have always been unbearable. Now it's doubled, if not tripled.

We drive for a few minutes in silence. I start to get sleepy again. I yawn, "How about we stop for the night?" He asks.

Did I hear him right? Stop? There is like no where to stop. He probably means to get a coffee or something for himself.

"Sounds great," I mumble before dozing off. It's better than being awake with him.

* * * *

It feels like I'm laying on a hard wood floor. I turn, no, I'm not on the floor, but in a really stiff bed. My back has aches in it. A rough, scratchy blanket is on me. It's thin and barely does anything to keep me warm. If Chris wasn't next to me, it'd be freezing.

Where am I?

I open my eyes. The roof is a pale, ugly yellow. It travels down to the walls, where it meets an old looking red carpet. The color combination makes me want to gag, even I know that's ugly.

An uncomfortable looking chair sits in the corner and a cheap looking set of drawers is next to it. An old dusty wooden door leads to what I'm guessing is the bathroom... I'm scared to see what that looks like. A big window covered by a wispy white curtain sits by a new door that leads to the outside. The curtain glows an orangish pink from the sun rising in the horizon.

This whole place screams cheap hotel.

I hear a light murmuring. It starts getting louder, like it's getting closer. Oh gosh, how could I be so dumb.

I'm in an unlocked room with a sleeping Chris. A room with a door to freedom. That murmuring is person outside the room.

Without thinking, I quietly get up and walk to the window. I pull aside the curtain. A person is just outside the room. My while body starts to shake, I feel tears brim my eyes. I can go, I can leave.

Then I do probably my biggest mistake so far. Instead of running to the door and going to the person for help, I start banging and screaming on the window at the person. "Help me! Please!" I start to plead.

The guy must hear me because he turns around and looks. I swear he sees me, that I see the recognition on his face. So close, so very close.

But then my hopes are shattered again. Chris roughly pulls me back away from the window and in to the darkest corner of the room. His hand covers my mouth preventing my screams and cries to be heard.

Of course I woke him up, he'd have to be a bear hibernating not to. And even then there is a good chance that he'd wake.

I blew it, once again, I doomed myself. I'll never get another chance like this, not ever again.

Chris keeps me like that for minutes. Listening, waiting, for anything. Help doesn't come.

Finally he throws me against the wall. I hit it hard with a thud. I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT!" He tells loudly. His voice is dark and unforgiving. This is the kind of yell that hurts you just to hear.

Everything else in this place is cheap, maybe I'll get lucky and the walls are paper thin too. My family must've punched a leprechaun or something because luck just hates me.

"I TRUSTED YOU AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!" I flinch with each word, it feels like a slap to the face. "GOD DANGIT!" He yells. His fists connect with the wall on either side of my head.

I start crying, never been so scared in my life. I've never been so scared of someone, it's hard to believe he's the same person.

He stands in front of me, his eyes could be drilling in to my head. His breathing is rough and ragged, like he's trying to control himself. The next time he speaks, his voice is quieter, but still holds the same darkness. "Come on. We need to go."