Running Scared
She doesn't listen for the sound of his truck. She knows she won't hear it, he can't have the engine running as he approaches her house. His lights are off too, perhaps too dangerous, after all, a car could drive into him at any moment.
But he takes that risk for her, because she's his 'pretty girl'. He loves her too much.
She knows all too well that her husband is asleep in the next room. And she knows all too well the damage that will be done if he catches them.
But she takes the risk, because he's her 'broody'. She loves him too much.
--
She can't allow him to tap on her door. Her husband will wake and that will be it. So she stays rooted to her spot beside the window, her left hand clutching the drapes so she can see out, her right hand pressed between her knees.
It won't stop shaking.
She has to squint in the dark to see his truck, his truck that makes her heart beat faster, because she knows the time to run is getting nearer.
Her bag is packed, she's at least had time during the past hour to think that through. Only a few tank tops, a couple pairs of jeans and a toothbrush make up her possessions.
Her make up had been confiscated by her him the previous day, he said it made her look like the slut she was.
Brooke didn't care. She didn't need make up when she had Lucas.
Besides, they could buy some when they got out of here.
--
Her hazel eyes flick to the small girl beside her, their two year old daughter. Lucas knows she's his, and she knows he knows. But she never told him. He just figured it out.
And Brooke prays that the tablet she gave her to make her sleep will be enough. If she wakes, then she might cry for the pink stuffed bunny Lucas bought her when she was new born. The pink bunny that she loves so much.
She has it in the bag too. Because she knows Madelene will appreciate it when she wakes up.
Why is he getting out of the car?
--
The door to her room is open before he can even knock, her shaky hands pressed to his lips before he can breath loud enough to awaken her husband.
She can't take that risk. Not now they've gotten this far.
She hands him their sleeping daughter, the bag she can take care of herself.
He kisses her head, the softest of kisses a father can give his daughter. He closes his eyes tight as he walks to the truck, though he knows exactly where to walk. He's planned this before.
--
Their daughter is asleep in the back seat, still oblivious to her mom and dad's late night escape. She doesn't know he's her real dad. But Brooke thinks she does, deep down.
Her hand is clinging onto his, her knuckles turning a perfect shade of white. He smiles at her, and he's whistling some tune she hasn't heard before. But still she can't manage to return it.
Not until she knows they're safe.
And they won't be safe until she knows he's gone for good. But they might be waiting too long.
--
Lucas' eyes flick to Brooke's stomach, displaying a slightly swollen bump. He knows this child is his too, and once again, Brooke knows he knows. But she hasn't told him. He's just figured it out.
He knows their next life has to be better, better for them, and better for both of their children. They have to be safe.
But what is safe anyway?
"I love you" he whispers. He doesn't know why he feels the need to be quiet. He was just whistling a moment ago.
She doesn't return what he says, but she does offer a small smile, the tiniest of mouth curves. Her eyes convey trust to him, hope, and she's asking for reassurance.
All without saying a word.
"It'll be okay."
She nods, but she's still not convinced.
--
They sleep in a motel, the third one along the highway after finding out the previous two didn't allow children.
She'd have been angry usually. But they didn't know she had to escape. They couldn't help.
Madelene's still oblivious to where they are, and Brooke' glad. She's not sure she could answer her questions anyway.
Lucas makes sure they have an early start. If they can make it across to California by the end of the day, then they'll have made good time. But California's a long way.
The sun is shinning, but Brooke doesn't care. Usually she loves the sun, allows Madelene to wear the pink bikini she loves, and play in the sand on the beach, the stretch of sand near Lucas' house.
Sometimes he would come play with them, if he wasn't working. He'd twirl Madelene round and round, laughing when she shrieked, sometimes with delight, sometimes with terror. But she enjoyed it all the same.
And it broke Brooke's heart to go back to that house at the end of the day, smile after he'd hit her, knocked her almost unconscious.
The other day, he punched her in the stomach. That's when she decided they were leaving.
--
He finds them, after the whole journey to Mexico, he finds them. And he grabs Brooke's arm, twists it until she screams in pain, the tears cascading down her face.
It's then when Lucas hits him, a punch as hard as he can across his face. But that's not enough to knock him out.
He just lets go of Brooke, and turns his attentions solely to Lucas, the man he knows his wife loves, the man he's uncontrollably jealous of.
And then he throws a punch, a hard, bloody-minded punch that knocks Lucas to the ground. He tries to get up, but when he's halfway there, he's kicked again, this time in the stomach.
Brooke watches helplessly as she watches the man she loves double over in pain. Their daughter is screaming Lucas' name. Never Daddy, like Brooke wants, but Lucas.
His blue eyes are closed from the world, and Brooke breaks down beside him, her body convulsing violently. She wants him to hold her and tell her that he's okay.
But he can't.
--
She spends day after day in that hospital room, the only things keeping her going are her daughter, and this baby on the way.
And the fact that her husband is dead. In Hell, she hopes.
The heart monitor is the only sound she hears, even Madelene doesn't speak while they're in there.
But Brooke's explained that Lucas is her daddy. Her tiny replica promises that she'll be good for daddy when he wakes up.
Brooke doesn't know if he will.
--
"I'll look after you" are the first words to leave his mouth.
His throat is dry and scratchy, and hurting like hell, but he doesn't care. He knows from that smile on her face, and the clearly visible bump, that she knows.
"I'll be good for you daddy." Her hazel eyes stare intently at him, and he grins, knowing that Brooke's explained.
"I love you baby girl."
She climbs onto the bed, and he envelopes her in a hug. They're joined by a giggling little girl, a little girl that has Brooke's eyes and Brooke's smile. But she has Lucas' personality.
--
They're back in the hospital, but this time, it's Brooke that's admitted, after having contractions.
He's more worried than she is, and she keeps giggling at his frantic state. But she knows he's more than happy.
And he allows himself to cry now, the first time he cried since he watched Brooke marry someone else. She never knew he was there, and to this day, she still has no idea.
He doesn't plan on telling her. He doesn't need to.
The tears are still falling from his eyes when he looks down at the second tiny replica of the woman he loves, but this time, he's gained a son.
She names him Ryan Lucas Scott. She can't not have his name in there.
--
They're running again, but this time it's the four of them, and they're playing tag in the bag yard.
She watches the terror on Ryan's face as Lucas comes after him, his arms poised, ready to grab the squealing little boy. He's looking more like his dad now, she's noticed.
But he's still her baby boy.
And laughter escapes from her mouth as he tackles his son to the ground, and he's no longer running scared.
None of them are.