Standing By

Running

(Chris)

Casing the joint for suspicious characters, I cautiously opened Elliott's car door and stealthily slid in, eyes still peeled for shady guys. I started to close the door quietly behind me, but Tim slid a hand in quickly, making me pop it back open before I crushed his fingers.

"Wha-at?" I complained, growing as he stuck his head in the car. "You're killing my mojo here."

He snorted, clearly not caring about my mojo. "Just wanted to tell you something."

"OK," Elliott said easily, gently opening the car door so as not to ding Tim's car again. "What is it?"

"She's expecting me," he told us. "She specifically requested me and me alone. She won't be happy that I'm sending Chris in my place."

"It can't be avoided, Tim," Elliott reminded him. "The restraining order prohibits you from meeting up with her."

"I know," he answered crankily. "I'm just warning Chris that she'll be pissed."

"All I'm doing is getting your key," I told him, sliding my seatbelt on. "Don't plan on extensive interaction. A 'hi' and a 'thanks', if that."

Tim nodded slowly. "OK, don't let her bait you into arguing with her. She'll probably have a word or two to say about your doing this errand for me. Try not to rise to it." He bit a lip, looking nervous, so I patted his back.

"Hey. Don't worry about it. I'll be good, won't say hardly anything. I'll be OK and I'll be back in a few minutes, OK?" I reassured him.

He nodded. "Thanks, Chris. I—I'm glad you're here."

"Wouldn't and couldn't be anywhere else," I told him, giving him a quick hug. "See ya in a few minutes."

"See you." Tim backed out of the car looking somewhat apprehensive. Poor guy had been put through so much ad her hands, at her words, and he barely trusted her to be around me. If she pulled any shit with me, or lifted a hand to me, gentle Chris was pulling a disappearing act. I don't initiate fights, but I will not back down if threatened, and I will without a doubt defend myself and my loved ones.

Elliott started the car and we rolled out of the parking lot.

"What's she like?" I asked him quietly. When I'd last seen her she'd been spunky and sweet. It really sounded like she'd lost a lot of the sweetness though. And from the way everyone was talking and acting, I was starting to get a little nervous myself.

Elliott pursed his lips. "Vindictive. Manipulative. Difficult. Two-faced. Hard-hearted." He sighed. "I guarantee she'll give you lip. Be the bigger person, don't rise to her level. Don't take the bait."

I licked my lips. "OK, I'll try my best." Trick would be to hold my tongue when she starts mouthing off at me. It's never been in my nature to take bullshit when it's dished to me—always been more the type to mouth right back. My smart mouth has landed me in trouble more often than not, because I'll say what's on my mind. Adam was always much more the conscientious and receptive one of us—of all of us Rupps, really. He'd have been better suited for this mission because he'd never run his mouth off or his emotions get the better of him. Always kept those emotions deeply hidden, much deeper than anyone would realize. Yet he was listed on the restraining order, and here I was. Stuck with me to do this and get the key. I sincerely hoped I didn't screw things up any further for Tim. I'd never be able to forgive myself if he had to deal with the repercussions of my words, of my actions. I'd sooner turn myself in and take the punishment myself. God, Chris, don't screw this up. I took my hat off and gave myself a good hard head scratch. Maybe it was time to try to start growing my hair back. I'd been shaving it regularly for a looong time, as soon as I got out of the house and out from under Mom and Dad's rules. They didn't want me shaving it, saying I had nice hair and they liked the brown hair amidst a sea of blonde and grey-haired Rupps. But I didn't want brown hair. I wanted my dark blonde back. And they said I'd get used to it in time. Time. Time. Time's relative. You never know how much time you have on this earth. Got to live in the minute, got to live it as it comes, got to because you never know when your world's going to be yanked out from under you. And it's time for a change. OK. Starting now. Growing hair out the best I could, thin, brittle, and brown be damned. I'd dye it blonde again. Maybe now, twenty plus years down the road, all the strong pharmaceuticals would be out of my body and my hair would actually grow better. I rubbed my hand over my head for a minute before putting the hat back on.