it's thunder and it's lightening
Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot.
Taylor chanted the words over and over in his head, the tiny girl in his arms not stirring. He was chanting to keep himself calm, to keep himself from going back to that house and destroying whoever had done this. Whoever. He tutted at himself for even thinking that. He knew exactly who had done this. And knowing only made him even more murderous.
He'd told the girl she needed to go, needed to leave before he found out that she had snuck out. But she had only smiled sadly, stating, "I want more time with you. When I go back...I'm not sure he'll let me leave."
Taylor had been bewildered by Hayley's statement, wondering what on earth she meant. She had been sad lately. Well, more sad than her usual sad. He had asked her what was wrong over and over again and had gotten the same bitter answer.
"My parents are dead and my stepdad's crazy, what do you think could be wrong?"
His eyes stung as he rounded the corner. It usually didn't take this long to get from the girl's house to his, but with her added weight, he was walking a bit slow.
He looked back down to her face, the splotches of black and blue an alarming contrast against her pale skin. A tear spilled over and he quickly tried to compose himself.
The girl didn't deserve this. None of it. It was a cruel fate that belonged to anyone but her. Father dead in a plane crash, mother remarried, then dead a year later? It sounded like something from a horror movie...or a bad soap opera.
But the next part was what had him in tears. The part that he hadn't even known about until he'd gotten the frantic call just over ten minutes ago.
"Taylor. Come get me. Please. It's um...it's Chris. He's mad. Just, come get me. Hurry."
He had done just that, hurrying out his window and running the three blocks to the girl's house. Their front door to the two story house had been unlocked, which in itself was very strange. And as he walked up the short hall and into the living room, the scene laid before him was terrifying:
Shattered things were everywhere; the vases that were decoratively placed on the tiny little tables at the room's entry, the glass of the coffee table in the center of the room. One of the armchairs was on its side. There had been no sign of the girl or her stepfather, and Taylor had backed out of the room and headed for the stairs, towards Hayley's room. The door had been slightly ajar and he had pushed it lightly, peeking a head in first.
"Hayley? Bud, are you in here?" he had called out.
There was a sniff, and Taylor thought he heard his name being whimpered from somewhere in the room. He stepped in all the way and looked around, eyes falling on the closet where light crying was coming from. He walked over and yanked the doors open and nearly burst into tears.
The girl was lying on her side in the fetal position, her arms wrapped around her legs. She was quite literally in a ball, apparently trying to make herself as small as possible. She frantically jumped up and into his arms, crying stopped dead in her throat. She'd clutched his neck and then went limp, temporarily going unconscious.
At that point, Taylor had been freaking out inside, wondering what the hell had happened in the house. He hadn't spotted Chris since he'd been in the house and concluded that he must have been the cause of the disruption in the living room.
Taylor had bent to scoop the girl up, arm moving behind her knees so he was carrying her bridal style, when he saw her face properly.
Two angry bruises were already formed on in the alabaster skin, and there was dried blood coming from one of her nostrils.
Taylor's heart had jumped to his throat and he swayed a bit on his feet, legs almost giving out on him.
But the initial shock was then replaced with anger as he realized what must have happened, who must have done this. And he wanted nothing more than to find the bastard (he had to be somewhere in the house, the car was still in the driveway) and kill him for what he had done. But he then looked backed down at the girl in his arms and his mind veered to only one thought: make sure she's safe. So he pushed away the venom running through his veins and exited the room, down the stairs and out the front door.
Now he walked up his own driveway, walking around the house and to his window that was still wide open; he hadn't closed it in his haste to see what was the matter with the girl.
He climed in a bit awkwardly, not wanting to drop the girl, and quickly walked her over to the bed, setting her down.
And now that half of his mind wasn't occupied with trying to keep his arms as steady so as not to stir the girl, his brain was running wild on its own accord. He began pacing, trying and failing to calm himself. He just wanted to snap the man in half, everything inside him screaming to go do so. He was halfway to the window when -
"Button?", came a voice from the bed, and Taylor whipped around to see the girl trying to sit up. He walked over quickly and gently pushed her shoulders back down onto the bed.
Her eyes were still slivers of white when she asked, "Is it safe now?"
Taylor's heart broke right then, not even registering the fact that she used the nickname that he hated, and he leaned down, brushing her orange bangs back off her forehead before he kissed her there.
"You're with me now. You'll always be safe with me."