A/N: *facepalm* dang it, I HATE JUSTIN'S PARTS! It's soooo hard to do :( Well, I hope it isn't too bad… or I hope it's at least understandable in most part.

Anyways, FINALLY! Second to last chapter :D Two left and I'm sooo over this! :) I was looking forward to its end actually, cuz now I can focus on other stories

Ok so, a little warning here; there is a little scene further between Courtney and Duncan that is partly sexual. I didn't feel like doing a lemon, and if I did, I was scared I'd ruin the story because it will suck.

So yeaah, don't forget to leave a review, please :3

Runaways

The baby blue eyed model awoke at the sound of humming birds perched in the tree a few meters away from the window in his room. It was early in the morning, six more precisely, and he had trouble sleeping since the unfortunate incident with his wife… Or preferably ex-wife since this one was no longer alive.

It had been a week now, and the Swallow birds next to his window were the sign that spring was going full swing. Spring, he remembered, was the favourite season of Courtney. Not as most of the people, she wasn't a big fan of summer, but loved the lightness of the first equinox of the year. At the end of June, when spring would leave to let the hot season take place, Justin and she had a tradition. On the eve of summer, they would sit on the balcony and open a bottle of red wine, watching firework shoot across the sky in celebration. It was way more romantic than it seemed, and the widower found hard to think the upcoming one would be the first summer eve he would pass without her.

He never felt that free of a man.

Justin rested his head on his pillow, smiling satisfyingly. Life would be way more beautiful since that bitch was out of is way. Well, of course, hiding her murder would be a difficult task, but knowing Justin; he would get through this without much problems. And that was why today, he had taken a day off to fix these.

10 000 bucks to make the souvenir of Courtney Keller disappear to most of the people on earth; this prize was not too much when we thought of this well. In fact, this was a gift the killer the model had hired was doing him. It was a really good investment, just to officialise his newfound celibacy.

To sum it up in Charles Dederich's words, today was the first day of the rest of his life. And he actually planned on not screwing up the rest.

The model looked to his right, reading 2pm on the clock; it was pretty late in the morning, but not really for a hot single gentleman like him. Stretching out, he got out of bed, making his way towards the kitchen.

The luxurious loft was vacuous from left to right, and nothing alive seemed in sight. The couple used to have a cat many months ago, but unthankfully the little beast ran away, disgraceful of all Courtney and he did for it. Justin never really liked cat, but that experience proved him he was right about those shameless animals.

Arrived in the earlier-said room, the tan man started the coffee maker, in target to serve himself a cup or two of it. While the liquid was in preparation, he took advantage of this short free time to take a look at the mails left from yesterday, whose he didn't check yet because his lack of free time the last day. Anyways, he expected to see bills and invitations to beauty product company's parties.

Holding a few envelopes in his hands, he went through all of them until one in particular, addressed to Courtney. Evaluating that since she was dead, he was in right to read her mails, Justin shredded the envelope on the side, letting out an unpaid credit card bill come out. Sighing, he was telling himself that now he would be the one paying what she spent money on when his eyes stopped at one line on the letter.

It was a transaction. Yes, the whole letter was filled with paid items, but this one was particular. It was clearly indicated, with no mistakes on the date or the cost, that someone used Courtney's credit card to take gas six days ago, at 8 in the morning, exactly the date after the night Justin left her corpse in the woods.

This couldn't be possible. This couldn't. Courtney couldn't have gotten her credit stolen, it was right in her wallet. But… thinking of it, she must have had her wallet on her when he beat her to death. And if anyone stole it from her, Justin didn't think they wouldn't have report it to the police. And if they didn't, how the heck would those people find out where she was?

All ways leaded to one conclusion; Courtney used it.

"But she was dead!"Justin exclaimed, banging his fists against the marble kitchen counter. "She wasn't even moving the whole way from here house to the forest, which is 20 km away from here. How could she possibly do this?

Then, it popped into the model's head; he never checked her respiration.

Feeling a dumb and his face reddening of anger, Justin looked down to the bill again and noticed the last transaction that had been done was in a motel in Montreal named of an odd French label.

And this is where he was going. He was going to finish the job he started.

The brunette reached her arms out, stretching them, feeling wrecked by the night she just passed. Actually, having dozed off at 10 o'clock the evening before, she had spent 14 hours sleeping, recovering slowly from her injuries, which led her to 10 in the morning, according to the city of Montreal's hour. Duncan's truck had driven them here, in that big metropolis where Courtney had never gone before, which meant this was the perfect hiding spot if Justin found the truth and tried to chase them.

Thinking of the punk, the princess reached out again to her right and realised nobody was lying next to her. Again, the punk had disappeared. She was about to panic when she noticed a note on the nightstand. Snatching it quickly, she read it.

Gone grabbing some food, don't worry about me. Be back at noon.
~Duncan

At these few words, Courtney felt her blood pressure increase rising dangerously. Affirmatively, Duncan said he would be back, and she did not have to worry, but just thinking he was out when they were both in such condition made her stress out. Yes, Duncan was a strong man; but being hefty does not mean people like him can get out of any heavy trouble.

In fact, the prep wasn't scared of him being in danger; she feared losing him again. Duncan had saved her life; he had saved her from Justin and even herself, even if he wasn't present when Justin supposedly beat her to death. And that didn't matter, because he was about to do it, and this meant the world to her.

He was his saviour, and she needed a saviour; someone that would look out after her and watch her sleep at night. Someone that knew about her past but wasn't commenting it. Someone that knew what she needed.

And then she realised he was more to her than anything Justin could have ever promised her. From a mansion located in the south of Belgium, to loving her for the rest of his life. Of all the things Justin said to her, none of them assured her completely peace and security, which was what she needed more than anything else that was valued at over a thousand bucks. Now, even if he was gone for a while, she knew at least nothing more could happen to her.

And that she had missed him in these last years. She had missed him more than anything else in the world. Her heart was still scarred, but no more shattered, and Courtney knew that, deep in her soul, she had forgiven what the punk did to her a long while ago.

The Princess's heart bounced in her chest when she heard the motel room door being quickly unlocked and forced, letting in a black haired muscular man. Relieved, Courtney sat up on bed, combing her brown locks to seem at least 'presentable' to the young man.

"Morning sunshine," Duncan greeted, wiggling his eyebrows while putting a few plastic bags on the old wooden dresser.

"Where have you gone?" Courtney asked sleepily, narrowing her eyes at the punk.

"Told you; grabbing some food."

"Don't you know how dangerous this is Duncan?" She yelled at him, changing from the sleeping beauty to the furious tiger. "We're runaways, we cannot be seen! Imagine if some paparazzi see me here and alert Justin, I'll be―"

"Courtney," He cut her off, sitting at the edge of the bed. "I am the one that went out, and people don't know me. I'm an ordinary boy, whereas you're the famous mannequin's wife, which means you are the one people will be looking for, not me."

Thinking of it deeply, what Duncan was saying was right; next to her, Duncan was nobody, so nobody would suspect him being with a woman supposed to be deceased. This was the perfect plan; and that would keep her alive for long enough to find a solution.

"That's right," Courtney agreed, too tired to even try finding some hidden vice. The brunette then swiveled her head to the right, spotting the mysteriously filled bags of groceries. "I'm starving, what did you get?"

"Hmmm…" Duncan thought, digging into the bag. "Cookies, bread, bags of chips, water bottles, ham, coffee, beer―"

"BEER?" Courtney gasped, repulsed that the punk thought about drinking when they were in such troubles.

"What? I need something to relax me while you're freaking out like a friggen head-less chicken."

Courtney rolled her onyx eyes. "I do not freak out like a chicken."

The man smirked, what truly annoyed the hell out of her.

"Anyways, what about a sandwich?" Duncan proposed. "Don't move, I'm taking care of everything."

As the punk demanded, Courtney stayed in bed, even though she felt like she should help. Unfortunately for her, when she tried to get out of her comfy prison, Duncan forced her to remain in place, causing her to ground and cuss uncontrollably in her head. But, though she felt she was being inactive and she hated it, the former CIT knew this was better for her. Her body required rest to mend, as her brains demanded a break to function properly.

As she was watching Duncan cooking some weird sandwich with mayonnaise, ham and a sort of bread she couldn't tell, she knew one thing; she was in peace. She was grateful to one person in particular.

"Duncan?" She called him, getting half his attention as his piercing blue eyes scanned her all over, presumably to see if she was okay. "Thank you. Thank you for everything, it's―it's really appreciated."

He smiled smugly but genuinely, "You're welcome, Princess."

The brown haired woman smiled, her whole soul being warmed up by one simple word; Princess. Truth was, it wasn't a word anymore; it was an identity. It was her identity. At anytime she heard this word coming out of Duncan's mouth, she could relate only one other word to this signification: home.

It was not peace. It was home. Her home.

Justin was driving fast on the road between Ontario and Quebec, slightly exceeding the speed limit but hoping no cop would catch him. He was in fury, and felt like he was going to punch the crap out of anyone. It was now 8 in the afternoon, and he had been rolling for an hour and a half now. What took him so long before going out the loft? Making up a plan to beat the crap out of Courtney, even murder her and than find a way not to be accused.

At this hour of the day and this time of the season, there were not a lot of people crowing the roads, which meant he could speed as much as he wanted without hurting anyone or getting in trouble, nevertheless honestly, he wouldn't mind at all if it allowed him to calm off a little.

He was sick, sick of her lies and her prissy attitude. He had done everything for her, and all she was doing was whining and bitching over and over again. She was just thinking of her and only herself, not even considering his feelings towards her and about their relationship. Courtney got everything she wanted, but she was still unhappy.

But, Justin tried everything to make her change her attitude. He bought her clothes and an expensive car, visited places all around the world, took her on amazing cruises… God, he was about to purchase a star for her!

Sometimes, he told himself that, perhaps if he 'disciplined' her, it was because he thought he wouldn't be able to tame Courtney enough for her to stay. Except the money, nothing kept her by his side. He wanted her to belong to him, he truly wanted it, and he was crazy about her, but with the big lie she'd given him by letting him believe she died, it proved him she didn't care. And she couldn't care less about his feelings more than this; that was the ultimate point. His hate towards her had grown enough, hatred that was formerly now as 'love', and Justin knew what was left for him to do.

He had to eliminate her. He had to eliminate the pain.

Get rid of all of this definitely.

If the dark brown haired man had calculated well, he would arrive to Montreal in 8 hours, meet some of his 'contacts' so they'd do the job for him and then would probably pop up to the casino, just to celebrate his victory and his new start as a free man.

He smirked; this was the perfect plan.

The old TV screen of the motel room flashed re-runs of lame sitcoms dating of early 2000's, what caused Duncan to sigh at the content but think of the ridicule of the situation. They had to face it; they were caught. They couldn't call the police because Courtney feared they wouldn't find any proof against Justin, which was clearly ridiculous. They also couldn't tell anyone where they were since Courtney was on track of many of Justin's "men".

They had a plan though; once the folly Justin was port of finished, and that Duncan would be sure no one would retrace them, they would drive to the nearest police station and denounce Justin, by so opening a scandal about the famously known top-model. Courtney would then gain the respect she deserved, and Justin would go to the place he was supposed to go first; jail.

This project wasn't the best one Duncan had thought of, and it was the reason why Courtney wasn't aware of it yet, but it was all they had now. Truthfully, the only thing Duncan really wanted was to keep Courtney alive by any way possible.

Why this? The answer is a simple one; love. The punk felt like he would die if he came to lose her again, because she was all that was left for him to live. The only reason why he should stay alive.

He wished she would realize it.

"This is so dopy," Courtney snapped, her eyes fixed on the TV. "The guy is a real man-whore and then, when he finally realizes he's in love with one girl in particular, whose heart he kept breaking, he expects her to forgive him already?"

"Everybody makes mistakes." He half-smiled, gripping the remote control.

"Oh please, don't quote me a Hannah Montana song!" She joked. "Could we watch something else? I feel like I'm going to punch the screen to that dumbass show."

"No." Duncan said playfully, taking away the remote control far so it was out of Courtney's reach.

"Come on! Give me this!" Courtney yelled, clutching his arms so she could get control. As the young man tried to keep it in hand, she climbed over him and sat on his lap, her arms trying really hard to snatch the item from his hands. She was getting red of anger, but at the same time was laughing like a moron at the situation. Her laugh was sweet, a little high pitched, but still really sweet like it was freshly out of his memory. Duncan managed to get her off and got on her fragile body, steadying her by holding her hands without hurting her, so she couldn't move. Suddenly, his finger accidently hit the off button, turning the screen into black, and the room even darker since they were watching TV in the dark.

Their eyes were shining in the darkness, as they stared into each other's orbs without saying a word. It was flawless, totally flawless.

"You can kiss me if you want to." Courtney whispered though they were alone in the room.

Without anymore invitation from the prep, Duncan slowly leaned in, closing his eyes and letting his chapped lips crushing onto Courtney's blissful pink ones. And he kissed her, kissed her with more passion than he ever had. The last time he pressed his lips against her was the night of their prom, right before he cheated on her with Gwen. If he ever knew what would happen after, he would have never done this to her. He knew it for sure now; he loved her.

His lips traveled sensually to her jaw line, kissing tenderly her soft tan skin and taking a scent of her hypnotizing perfume. She didn't smell odd designer fragrance, she smelled her own perfume. The one she had always naturally worn since he knew her. That made him even more lustful for her.

"Duncan," Courtney moaned, like a signal alarm telling him to continue. Duncan obeyed, nibbling her earlobes, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. His hands then traveled to her waist, tucking at the bottom of her shirt, and then rapidly pulling it off. She found herself almost naked in front of him, wearing only a simple black bra and her jeans. In an attempt to make her feel comfortable, the punk let her hands grab his grey shirt and taking it off, revealing manly abs under it. Courtney took the time to touch them before feeling his warm hands cup her face, kissing her and laying her on the bed.

They removed each other's pieces of clothing more and more until there was none. And they osculated, touched, cuddled, and kissed each other for hours. It never happened before, but it was perfect.

It was their first time.

The lovebirds awoke up at an unexpected small knock on the door, at 3 in the morning.

"Who's this?" Courtney asked Duncan, swiftly putting her shirt, sneakers and jeans back on.

"It must be the motel's manager," He assumed, imitating Courtney's actions."I think he said he wanted to talk to me about the bill yesterday." Walking towards the door, he combed his hair to be at least presentable, put his sneakers on so he would be ready if the man wanted to take him out somewhere.

"He's kinda early." The prep claimed, glancing at the clock rested on the nightstand. Her lover shrugged, "You know, those guys don't like to wait for some cash."

The door was knocked a second time, this time harshly, what slightly pissed off the punk. "I'm coming, relax dude!" He said, thinking of the word 'bitch' to describe the man's attitude. Turning the doorknob, he mumbled some apologies, "Yeah, man, sorry if I didn't pay yesterday, I forgot to, but I promise―"

Duncan lifted his eyes to see a tall tan man standing in front of him, fire in the eyes, ready to assassinate even though he had a huge smile plastered on the face. He recognized every of his features; his cold orbs, his muscular arms, his lips only to pronounce evil words. Duncan only had two single words to say before the model violently punched him.

"Run Courtney!"

A/N: TBC. Please review.