Stockholm Syndrome

32:The Talk Without Words

32: The Talk Without Words

I stumbled down the stairs, trying not to push my body too far. I didn't even bother with trying to sneak out. I'm sure Luke had the place booby trapped or something. And he was like a mom. Eyes in the back of his head. He would be able to tell if I was sneaking out or not. Instead, I sprawled out on the couch, taking up all three cushions. Actually it was more like two and a fourth. I was short and the couch was big.

 Luke was in the kitchen. You can see the living room from the kitchen and I'm sure noticed the noise I made when collapsing onto the sofa. I know because his cheek was puffed out with goldfish crackers and the crunching paused when I sat down. He chewed, swallowed, took another goldfish shot, then filled a cup with water.

I assumed he was going to drink it but he walked over and wordlessly placed it on the table above my head.

I watched out of the corner of my eye – his figure turning into a blob – as he fixed a few messes around his house. I saw him every now and then turn to check on me. Eventually, he came and sat on the chair across from the couch. He stared at me and every now and then scanned my body like I was going to blow up or something. I felt like I used to when I was little and got sick. Helpless, weak, and someone watching over me. Luke rested his cheek on his fist and his head dropped at one point. After the jerk he felt when it fell, he was awake again.

"Are you worried about me?" It sounded like a weird question but with him I couldn't tell. I felt like I had communicated with him enough through the silence but now I needed words. He paused.

"Am I worried about you?" He asked slowly. I nodded. Not staring but making shifty eye contact. He nodded. "Yeah. I am." He answered.

"Did you know?" My next question was riskier.

"About your anorexia?" He asked. I nodded. "You already asked me that on the way here."

"I'm asking again."

"I can't answer that. I honestly don't know, Maddie."

"Don't call Maddie." I answered shortly and moved on immediately. "Why weren't you worried about me saying something to the doctor?" Luke cocked his head at me, leaning on his finger.

"Because I knew you wouldn't." He answered. A thought hit me. I tried to sit up but didn't have the strength.

"Did you do something to me?"

"How would I do that?" He asked smugly. I quieted down again.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"What were the chances of believing a girl who just got out of a black out who says she was kidnapped by her father?" He asked.

"You aren't my father."

"That's not something the doctor needed to know." He replied. I glared at him for a little bit. "I've got a question for you now." He fired back after a while. I continued glaring but he took it as a go ahead. "How come you don't like using my name?" I lost my eye contact.

"What?" I slapped myself for playing dumb.

"I see you dodge around it. You mumble until I notice you and then you get away with not using my name." He was right. Crap. He was really right. I sighed.

"My brother..." Luke's eyes widened and I wondered why but continued. "Hardly knew him but he was better to me than the rest of the family... Even though I only saw him like twice. Don't know where he is, probably dead. His name... was Luke." I answered slowly. I felt pain surge through my heart.

"Your brother..."

"Step brother." I corrected. Luke seemed unable to hold in a smile. I looked at him funny.

"I'm sure he's fine." He told me.

"What makes you so sure?"

"I've got faith. Don't you?" He stood and rubbed my hand as he walked past, now acting perky and amused. I had pretty much lost my faith by now.