Run Away

"Hey!" The yell was distant but more than loud enough to meet my sensitive ears. "Teresa, get back here!"

I couldn't focus on that, however. I had to figure out the best course of action… how the hell did I even begin to try and outrun a Navy SEAL? The streets were mostly vacant as per usual, no crowds there to provide me any cover. If anyone was around what could I say? "Help, my father's looking for me?" I imagined that not going over so well.

One thing kept me going, even when I heard a pair of thundering footsteps behind me as I cut through an alley next to an abandoned building. It was the thought of my mother. She would be okay by herself—after all, she was Abby Bennett. Nothing could stop that woman.

Me, on the other hand…

Well, even after just finding out that I'd lost her I didn't know how I would be able to cope.

From the sound of Steve's footsteps I could tell he was close. Too close, perhaps less than ten yards away from me. Running into the alley had been a panicked mistake, though I made the best of it as I pushed my way through a thankfully unlocked back door and began making my way through the decrepit warehouse-like building, looking for an exit as far away from the door I entered as possible. Sweat built up on my brow and since I finally took down my pace a few notches, my lungs were really starting to feel the effects of the run.

Stealth was what I next focused on. I kept my footfalls quiet and quick, knowing that Steve was more than likely in the building with me. I didn't want to think about if Mom ever found out I ran away from my father. It would most certainly not be good.

Rows upon rows of shelves were placed all over the building, some overturned onto their sides. At the very least they made for good cover, at their worst they gave me one more thing to trip on.

The few seconds I spend in that old building, I allow myself to think a little. I recalled my father being a Navy SEAL, yes, but not much else. I'd only seen him a couple times since I was four and I had no concrete memories of him… of distant times so faded in my mind I wasn't sure if they had actually happened. There were many things I didn't know about him—I had his last name. My mother once told that we share the same eyes, and today the fact was confirmed. We did.

And I wasn't happy. He wasn't ever around, so why should I be happy to share such an obvious physical characteristic with him?

Nobody in their right mind would be, that's why.

Other than a few choppy memories from before my mother left when I was four, that's all I really knew.

When I found an exit I didn't hesitate going through it; I was hoping Steve hadn't even seen me go into the building in the first place.

Hopefully he was long behind me.

As soon as I was out I took a deep breath and let it out, eager to get the musky, dingy warehouse air out of my lungs. That was the only small comfort I was allowed when he was there, right next to me, grabbing me by my forearms just like he had last time. Only he wasn't letting go.

Hope left me when I looked up, saw the frustrated and worried look in his eyes. He was as tall as I remembered, still towering over my 5'2" frame. "'Esa, what the hell is wrong?" Steve demanded, backing me toward the wall of the building. I dug my heels in, not in any mood to let him push me around.

"Don't call me that," I muttered, something inside of me stirring. Suddenly I couldn't even meet him in the eye, the memory hitting me like the force of a slap across my face. I'd only been a few years old and pronouncing my name had been difficult for my baby-talk self, and all I could say of my name was 'Esa'. Steve caught onto it and called me it every chance he got.

I didn't like it. Because I wasn't four anymore—I was fifteen.

"What's wrong?" He pressed, voice rough. The stubble on his face told me he hadn't shaved in a while. Maybe he was getting as little sleep as I was.

I tried to shimmy out of his grip and failed. He held me tight, but not to the point where it hurt. Instead, I adjusted my backpack on my shoulders and let out a small, strained huff of a sigh. "Let me go," I said, straining to keep my voice from trembling. This was hard for me, conversing with him as if my mother hadn't just abandoned me. As if he even really cared.

All I wanted to do was run away.

His grip merely loosened. "No until you tell me what's going on."

A familiar concerned gaze searched my face for the answer they desperately wanted. Everyone wanted answers, including myself. But we weren't about to get any.

"You tell me," I said, turning angry. "I come home from school to find Mom missing and a goddamned letter to explain it all."

His posture stiffened at that and he released me from his hold, I took several steps away from him until my backpack touched the cement wall. "She sent me a letter too."

"And what else?" I replied stiffly—too angry and sad and scared to realize I sounded a little bratty. I just wanted to know what the hell had gone down.

A moment of hesitation passed, I was in too much shock to break it and badger him into telling me whatever he was hiding. "And custody papers. That I've already signed."

I jumped at the sound of police sirens in the distance and turned sharply, fists clenched. Steve was right there with me, thinking I was going to make a break for it again. I wasn't stupid. "Please… just leave me alone," I pleaded, finally cracking.

How long had this been in the works? Was this the only reason we'd come to California… Mom only wanted to get me out of the house today so she could leave. The realization hit me like a blow to the chest, and I almost doubled over in pain. She didn't want me.

It felt surreal, standing there with a man I was supposed to know…was supposed to live with. A man I was supposed to call my father. While I wouldn't admit it aloud, there was no denying I felt safer standing there with next to me than I had in weeks. Perhaps it was because of the few memories I had of him—the slight familiarity in a world otherwise full of strangers.

"I'm sorry, Teresa," He offered quietly. "I had no idea about any of this until just a few days ago. I'm sorry."

Upon taking one step closer to me, he paused when I pressed myself even further into the wall. I didn't want to be touched, especially not by him. To me it was not mean… if anything it was reasonable. For the first time in a long time, I felt the urge to go home. The only thing about that was I didn't have a home. Hadn't in years. No permanent residence, no place to call my own.

I'd never felt more alone in my life then at that moment, standing in an alleyway with the father I barely knew.

"Come here," He murmured, so quiet I could barely hear him. Before I could protest he had his arms wrapped around me, enveloping me into a warm, comforting hug.

Comfort I wanted no part of. I pushed against him, hysterical and crying and shoving. "No, leave me alone," I cried. I didn't want him or anyone seeing me like this. I'd always been strong, just like my mom.

But how could I be strong without her?

His arms only locked around me, holding me there while I fought against him, as if he could sense what that really mean to me. It only took a few seconds for me to stop, to press my face against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist. While I hated the thought, a hug was what I needed. And it just so happened to be from my father. I squeezed hard and pushed my face into his chest farther, hoping it would quell my crying.

If anything, it only made it worse. "She's gone," I sobbed uselessly. It seemed to be all I could think of.

"It's okay, 'Esa," Steve mumbled into my hair, ignoring my earlier demands about the nickname. I let it slide, but the name didn't do much for my tears.

Another few minutes passed before I had the courage to withdraw from the embrace. And when I did, I still couldn't meet his gaze. "Let's go back to your room, okay?" He said, though it didn't sound like much of a suggestion.

Nothing was up for debate anymore, that didn't mean I wouldn't try and carry out my plan. I still had my backpack with all of my supplies, 'reunited' with my father or not. Still, I hesitantly agreed. He led me back out onto the street with a hand on the small of my back, as if he could read my mind. And I let him, if only so he could trust me. I had no intentions of running… yet.

Funny, all my mother and I did was run from problems so it seemed almost natural for me to run away from this… from my father. From the relationship we could very well have if I just allowed it. That's perhaps what scared me most, the fact that after all those years of thinking he didn't care about me one way or another there he was, as if to save the day. I didn't know what to think of him.

No more than a few blocks away, we made it back to the motel fairly quickly. I didn't want to so much as step through the door, to see all of my mother's things, gone. To see my own packed up and ready to be shipped out to Hawaii. One more time, I wished desperately all of this was just a stupid, stupid dream. If I woke up from it I would change everything, from the fact that Mom thought I was blind to everything she did and that she thought she needed to save me. I wasn't the one who needed saving. She was. And I certainly wouldn't allow to run and hide like she had already done.

When I finally stepped foot into the room I'd gotten to know a little too well over the last couple of weeks, Steve was already sitting on my bed, reading the letter. My blood pressure rose a little at the sight but I kept my mouth zipped for the moment. I didn't want him reading my mother's personal letter to me—and it wasn't like it would be of any help to him, anyway.

Steve stood after placing the crumpled letter back into its envelope, and I heard him sigh for the first time. He reached up and momentarily pinched the bridge of his nose before looking over at me in sympathy. I wrinkled my nose… again, I didn't want his sympathy.

"Listen to me, Teresa. I know you're scared and you have every right to be," He added before I had the chance to cut him off. I ground my teeth in frustration. "All I know right now is that your mom's in danger, and she's doing what is best for you."

"Thanks for filling me in, Genius," I said sourly. He had just repeated all that I knew, too.

His expression promptly hardened at my snotty tone and he straightened, looking stern. I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. "Now is not the time for attitude."

Parenting must have come so easy for him… so why the hell hadn't he been around to actually do some of it? I knew for a fact that if he had, things would be different. A whole word full of different.

"Whatever," I said, off-handed. That was how I talked to my mom. We were real with each other, we spoke our minds. I wasn't going to stop just because Steve didn't like it. "I'm not going to Hawaii with you. I'm staying here and I'm finding Mom."

It seemed like only then did he regard me as the teenager I really was. "No. Abby was very clear in her instructions. She wants you with me. And I do, too."

I tried to get past that. He actually wanted me around. "She could die you know. Hell, she could already be dead," Such a thought had another surge of panic coursing through me. I couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

"You are fifteen years old, Teresa. God only knows that whoever is looking for your mother's looking for you, too. You're coming to Hawaii. Don't try and argue with me," He said, short and curt with his words. They only further left no room for argument.

Although childish, I felt like stomping my foot. It took every ounce of self-control for me not to do so. Instead, I looked him square in the eye. "Get out."

"Excuse me?" He demanded, then becoming angry himself. Not just his tone had changed from soft and concerned to stern and flat, his jaw jumped and the look in his eyes told me he didn't like what I just said. At all.

So he didn't have a whole lot of patience. I would have to remember that.

"Get out," I repeated and tried not to flinch at my own words. "I—I don't want you here and I don't want to go with you. Just leave."

Fat chance there, I was well aware, but I had to try. Everything, even if it meant him hating me. What I said seemed to have an effect on him, though not the one I wanted. He got pissed off, sure. The one thing I wasn't expecting him to do was haul two of my duffel bags over his shoulders and grab me by my wrist, pulling me out of the motel room. I barely had enough time to snatch my mother's letter off the bed before he slammed the door shut behind us.

"I knew there'd probably be a lot of changes when you come to live with me," He started, words rushed and heated as he hauled me and the duffel bags down the sidewalk. "The first thing to go is that smart mouth of yours, I promise you that one."

If I weren't so pissed off at him I would've shrunk at what he just told me. I only glared at the pavement in front of me and focused on not tripping, awed that he could walk at such a quick pace while carrying so much. I was nearly jogging so I wouldn't get dragged behind. "Ow," I seethed, just wanting to press his buttons a little more. "You're hurting me."

Not really. From the look he gave me, he knew it too. His grip was firm but not tight enough to hurt. Just enough to keep me straggling alongside him.

"Not going to work on me, 'Esa," He said.

Well that much was obvious.

Soon we stopped at a large, gray SUV. Steve didn't let of my wrist even as he opened the back door and tossed my bags into the back. After stuffing me into the back seat, he stood back for a moment and regarded me, almost cautiously. Then, smartly, he switched the child lock on the door closest to me before jogging to the other side of the car and doing the same.

When he got in the driver's seat and was situated in the car, I heard the locks for both the doors and windows click.

All I could do was glower from my spot in the backseat. How the hell had I gotten myself into this, with my irate, mentally insane Navy SEAL of a father behind the wheel?

On that same note, I wondered where my mother was. I hoped she was out somewhere, kicking Dmitry's ass. I suppose that was all I could do.


Four reviews on the last chapter, this makes me one happy camper. Keep it up and I'll continue with the once-a-day updating :) Special thanks to the guest who pointed out an error in chapter two. That's what I'm here for! Now, tell me what you thought about this chapter!