Well here I am, practically weeping because the show has officially been cancelled. But I did hear a rumor that Hulu might pick it up. *sigh* A girl can dream.
Read and review!
FOUR
Bellamy's eyes shot open the second she was awake. Memories from the night before flooding her mind. The intruder, the gun fire, the list, but what stuck out the most was the echo of Miya's sobs. Her little voice crying for her over the gunshots. The image of her scooting off the couch and running towards her, hands covering her ears. She could have lost her.
But she hadn't. Her hand roamed over the empty space of bed next to her.
It wasn't supposed to be empty. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide in horror. Miya wasn't next to her, she wasn't even in the bed.
"Miya!" she called, voice raspy with sleep. Ripping the heavy comforter back, she hurried to throw her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet got tangled in the covers and she half jumped half fell out of the bed, banging her arm against the corner of the dresser. She felt the sting, but it didn't slow her down. Breaking herself free of the damn blanket, she ran towards the door, well, the beads. Looking over her shoulder to make sure she didn't miss Miya somewhere in the bedroom, she collided with a hard chest.
"Calm down." he said, clamping hands on her biceps. She used all of her might to push him back a step.
"Where is she?" Bellamy huffed. He tilted his head back and her eyes followed the gesture. Miya was at the table, shoveling spoon fulls of cereal into her eager mouth. In front of her, a cell phone was propped up playing some mindless cartoon.
Bellamy lifted her eyes to meet his. She felt fire in her bones, anger bubbling in her veins. She wondered if he could see it, if her eyes were glowing from it.
"If I ever find you alone with her again," she trailed off, unsure of which words would hold the most toxicity. He cocked his head, dark eyes narrowing in on her.
"If I wanted to hurt that little girl," he moved forward, forcing Bellamy to take a step back. "I would have killed you back in your shitty little apartment and taken her." His voice was angry. She'd hit a nerve somehow.
He was trapping her, leaving such little space between them that had she been standing straight instead of leaning slightly back, their chests would be touching.
"Step back." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it shook regardless. He ignored her.
"You know damn well that I'm the only thing standing between the two of you and them." He hitched his head to the side, indicated the big bad world outside of his trailer.
Bellamy knew he was right. If he hadn't broken into her life, literally, she and Miya would have been dead. Bullets would have taken them down, or the shooters would have found them on street in the crowd, or she would have walked right up to one of them at the police station.
She admitted that he'd saved them. Both of them. And yeah, if he wanted to hurt them… or something worse… he'd had every opportunity to do so. But so far, he hadn't.
Regardless of his hero status, the man caused fear to anchor into every cell of her body. She tried to think of something to say, something to throw back at him, but her mind was blank. Completely consumed with his proximity.
"Aunt Bell!" Miya's little voice sailed into the bedroom. "Look!" Bellamy peered over his shoulder to see her holding up her bowl, milking threatening to thrash over the sides. "Frank has Captain Crunch!"
Her eyes met his. This whole time she'd never thought to ask his name. Frank. It didn't seem to fit him. It was too… homey. Too soft and loveable. The man in front of her was the opposite of soft, not a note of love-ability to his stone features or cold eyes.
"That's great." She called back, pushing her way past him, their shoulders scraping against each other on the way. She didn't look back at him. There was no point. The conversation was over as far as she was concerned. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. Frank took a seat on the sofa without a word.
Miya told her aunt all about her morning, which started very early. Frank let her use his phone to watch Moana, the music of which was still playing quietly in the background. And she had used the potty all on her own. At that, Bellamy whipped her head toward him eyes wide. But Miya continued proudly that she didn't need anyone to help her and that Frank said he'd come if she called. But she didn't need to call.
"Such a big girl." Bellamy tussled Miya's curls. The girl went on about her movie and her dreams. But Bellamy wasn't listening. Her mind and eyes were on Frank. After a few more minutes, when Miya finally fell silent and went back to watching her movie, Bellamy spoke. "So what do we do now? What's the plan?"
His eyes stared down at the phone in his hands. How many phones does this guy have? His silence annoyed her. He seemed to have a lot to say a few minutes ago, but now that she wanted some real answers he was going to shut up? No fucking way was she having that.
"Hello." she waved a hand in the air. "Plan. Do you have one?" when he again said nothing she added, "We can't stay here forever."
"You won't" he grumbled in a barely audible tone.
"Aunt Bell, look!" Miya reached across the table and shoved the other phone into her palm. "She looks like mommy!" the princess on the screen did resemble Bellamy's older sister. Dark hair, much like her own, falling in waves over her shoulders. Even darker eyes, wide set and round as saucers. The key difference was the olive skin of the princess. Her sister had been pale. Porcelain, as she used to remind her.
"Yeah, she does." Bellamy gave Miya a weak smile and gently pushed the phone back. She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat every time she thought of her sister. Miya happily went back to watching the movie, giving it her entire focus. She was so innocently oblivious to the world that was crumbling around her.
"I have a plan." his voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Same plan as always, kill them before they kill me." he said in just over a whisper so Miya couldn't hear.
"They wouldn't be trying to kill you if you had just let us walk away." she countered, also keeping her voice low.
"Yeah, you're right." he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "But I'm an asshole who can't stay out of trouble. Hell, maybe if it were just you, I'd have let them do what they wanted. But when I see these scumbags going after a baby like her," he jutted his chin to Miya, "well, I can't just walk away from that."
"So you're the hero here?" she barked out on a laugh. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Miya's head perk up at the sudden change in volume.
"You know what? Yeah, I am." he stood up and she instantly did the same, refusing to let him look down at her. But even standing, she only came to his shoulders.
What the hell was she doing? Why was she arguing with the man who had kidnapped her? The man with the guns and brute strength of an ox. This stubbornness, this refusal to submit, was her fatal flaw. It's the same flaw that landed her in a world of hurt all that time ago with Jimmy and his crew.
Realizing her mistake and the consequences that challenging him could bring, she quickly sat back down. Bellamy held her breath, silently praying that he wouldn't hurt her in front of Miya. The girl had witnessed enough.
Nothing happened.
She felt his eyes on her but couldn't tear her own gaze from her hands. Miya giggled at whatever was happening in her movie, so gloriously unaware the tension filling the air around her.
"Follow me." He suddenly ordered, turning on his heels back towards the bedroom.
"Follow you?" Bellamy choked out in confusion.
"Yeah, is this really a conversation you wanna have in front of her?" His eyes flicked down to Miya and back to Bellamy. Of course it wasn't. But did she want to be alone with him? Absolutely not.
"Fine." She whispered, realizing that she didn't have much of a choice. What would he do if she argued, if she gave him a hard time? Would he take it out on Miya? Though her heart leaned towards no, her brain was thinking of all the movie plots the resembled this situation. Kidnapper wants something, kidnapped adult doesn't comply, kidnapper hurts the kid to get what they want. Plain. Simple. Terrifying.
Bellamy followed him to the back of the trailer and through the beads. She stood stock still, so close to the exit that she could feel the plastic beads brushing against the backs of her elbows as they swung. Frank didn't turn to face her. Instead, he opened up the same drawer that she had rummaged through last night. He pulled out a folded shirt and tossed it onto the bed, then continued searching through the next drawer. A pair of black jeans landed next to the shirt, followed by socks.
Just when she was begging to think that he'd forgotten she was standing there, he turned to her.
"You need to stop jumping out of your damn skin every time I move." He leaned back to half sit on the dresser.
"You broke into my home, threw me around, and then kidnapped us." She barked lowly, hoping not to startle Miya.
"You got in the truck willingly." Bellamy parted her lips to respond but he trekked on. "Look, we're not having this discussion again. I'm not gonna hurt you, or the kid. I'm not like those assholes."
"So you've said." If he didn't see her roll her eyes, he could have probably heard it in her voice.
"Would they have fed your kid breakfast?" He pushed away from the dresser, causing Bellamy to inch backwards further into the beads. "Would they have let you sleep peacefully? Would they have taken a bullet to keep her out of the way?" He paused and inhaled deeply. " I think you know just as well as I do what would have happened if I hadn't gotten to you first. They'd use her to get answers from you. They'd have tortured you, raped you. Both of you."
Bellamy visibly recoiled from the thought. Images and long buried memories flooded her senses, making it impossible for her to breathe.
"They're fucked up. They're evil." He continued slowly, watching her carefully as he did. " I think you know that from experience." Bellamy moved her eyes from the spot on the wall to which they'd been glued, over to his. For a moment, they simply stared at one another, no words being spoken, no breaths being taken. But it was overflowing with an understood message.
"Jimmy wasn't like that when we met." She said shakily. "I never would've gotten involved if…" her words faded.
"Hey, if a guy spits in your face on the first date, is he getting a second one?" She stared blankly, unsure of what he was trying to say. "No. They're all sweet and perfect until they've got you trapped. Until you're in too deep to just walk away."
Bellamy heard the logic in his words, and deep down, she knew he was right. What happened wasn't her fault. But she still couldn't help feeling foolish for getting involved in the first place. She couldn't even use the broken home and fucked up childhood as an excuse because her sister turned out fine. Married a nice, college educated man, had a good job, went to fucking yoga classes.
She got out.
Bellamy didn't.
"Look," he finally said on a long breath "those guys back there, they don't care who they kill. Right and wrong, that doesn't matter to them as long as they get what they want." His voice was calmer, softer even. She lifted her eyes again. "I may not be the good guy in this but right now, I'm the best shot you've got at getting out alive." Something in his voice made her want to believe him.
"Okay." She whispered, feeling a bit embarrassed. She couldn't put her finger on why. Maybe because she had stupidly agreed to let him help them. Maybe because she had stupidly challenged him in the first place. Or maybe, it was the way he casually lounged against that damn dresser. That thought made her acutely aware of herself and the space between them.
She couldn't imagine what she looked like to him. A small, insignificant and broken woman. Dark frizzy hair flying out of a haphazard bun. Yesterday's makeup still clinging to her cheeks. While he stood above her, all power and muscle, exuding strength and control. In that moment they were complete opposites.
"Okay." He repeated back quietly. "I do have a plan."