A/N: I am beyond sorry for how late this is. It took me forever to get it right, and I must have rewritten certain sections five or six times because they just didn't flow properly. Its not super long, but it's not the shortest chapter. I'd like to say major thank yous to the reviewers, you guys are absolutely the greatest. Just so you know, Lilly will be exposed as Lilly, but Nate will mainly be the only one to know. For sweetsmiles16, Miley doesn't play a major part in the story, however Oliver might. I haven't decided exactly in what direction I want to head, but there have been a few hints here and there that may relate to Oliver's plot line. And Parakeet17 wanted to see more Nilly, so thank her for the major Nillyness in this chapter. Anyways, enough of me, enjoy!
Anyone But You
Chapter Eight
The light began to peek through the curtains as I found myself slowly opening my eyes. I was waking up in the same place I had gone to sleep in last night, which ironically looked identical to my room, yet it wasn't. It was the same in most aspects, but yet it was completely different, something I had figured out the hard way yesterday. It was familiar enough to instill a sense of comfort, but there was the lingering feeling of fear beneath that. In the back of my mind I knew that this could be considered anything but safe, however I couldn't separate the vibes I got from something that looked so much like home.
I stayed awake in that bed last night for so long. My mind had been reeling, mulling things over and thinking about every intricate detail. I was trying so hard to figure this out, but I was drawing a blank. I couldn't grasp the idea I had been presented with, much less understand it in full. It was so...complicated, if that could even begin to describe it. It was something I never would have dreamed of.
I had to wonder if they were missing me at all. I had seen all the news reports playing today and it was clear to me that I wasn't where I thought I was; home. I couldn't really be sure where I really was, if I was really here. I had spent over an hour thinking I was actually dead. Maybe I was a ghost, or maybe my house was my heaven? But I realized that was stupid, that wasn't plausible. The only conclusion I could come to was that I was gone, missing, just like the news had declared. I knew my parents would be worried, Jason, Frankie and Shane too, but that wasn't what I was wondering about. I was wondering about everyone else. My friends, my fans- the people that swore they cared, but did they really? When I called Hannah, she had seemed concerned, right until we were disconnected. If my eyes hadn't tricked me, I could have sworn Lola was crying on that tv set. Did she care?
It all seemed like something right out of a fiction novel. I'm missing and my arch nemesis is crying. I didn't think I had ever seen Lola cry before last Friday, so this was all unchartered territory for me. I didn't know where to step, what moves to make, if I could even make any considering my situation. For so long I had been lead to believe that her life would be better off without me, and now that I'm gone, she's in tears? If anything didn't make sense, this was it. She had wanted me dead at her dinner party, and now that she thought I could be, she wanted to take it all back, apparently. Looks like she's all talk. Then again, she's walk too considering all the things she's done to prove she doesn't like me.
Then again, I couldn't be one to talk because I found myself being worried about her too. It was kind of obvious why I was in this situation. From what I could remember, I had been kidnapped and brought to this place in the middle of Sunday night. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the fact that I had incriminating evidence hidden around my room, since I remembered fuzzy images of someone reaching into my guitar to pull out the disc. Looks like I was down one CD. But still, I had to wonder if Lola was going to be okay. She was just as much a part of this as I was, and eventually she'd be caught too. I just hoped that she could hold out long enough, and be smart enough to let the police in on it so they could catch the guy before he brought her to this place.
We should have gone to the police first thing the next day. Stupidly, we didn't, but I guess we had our reasons. We both agreed that maybe if we had laid low, and 'forgot' about it, the guy would let us off the hook. Figuring that if we did get ourselves into a situation, we could bribe him to let us go with the evidence, we kept quiet, not wanting to paint targets on ourselves. When we'd decided that, I hadn't thought the guy would go to such lengths as these. Now that I was here, it wasn't like I could go get those discs and hand them over to the cops if the criminal didn't co-operate, like I thought I could have. I was at a standstill, and I had run out of options. The only thing I could do was live and try to piece whatever I could together through the footage I was being supplied with, not that it would be any help anyways.
So far, I had figured out what I could. Through the news reports and what I'd heard off the tv, I had been missing since Sunday night, my room being found a complete mess by Monday morning. No one had any idea where I could have been, but my family had been questioned on the murder Friday night, thinking it might relate. They didn't even know how right they were in asking. The entire time, my family tried to be composed for Frankie. It seemed like he hadn't had a clue what was really going on, but I knew he was a smart kid and he'd put it together eventually. Lola was just... in tears the entire time. It was still so incomprehensible to me. She looked so broken, so scared, so guilty. It almost tore me to pieces just seeing that look on her face. It was something I had never seen in the eyes or anyone before and something I never wanted to see again. It didn't hit me as hard since it was masked by the rivalry, but it was strong enough to dig deep; strong enough for me to still remember it clearly as I laid in this bed.
I must have laid there for hours before I heard it. From down the hall, there was the distinct sound of shuffling, movement, from what would have been Shane's room. My eyes shot open from their half closed state and my body went rigid. The false sense of security that I'd become accustomed to was now gone as I began to fear the worst. The guy could be in the next room over, doing god knows what, just waiting for me. I didn't stop to think that he wouldn't go through all this trouble if he was going to kill me, I just scrambled out of bed, grabbing a guitar and inching my way towards the doorway.
I made my way out of my bed, still wearing just my pajama pants and down the hallway. I was holding the guitar in my hand, ready to use it as a weapon if I needed to. Grabbing the door handle, I slowly and gently opened the door, unsure of what I was about to see. When the door swung open, it creaked lightly and the room seemed normal. It looked just like Shane's room normally did, except this time the bed wasn't empty. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the blankets intently, wondering just who or what they were covering. When finally, the person shuffled again and the covers were thrown from their face, the confusion slipped from my features and I was momentarily stunned. It was Lola.
Her red hair was disheveled and strewn all across the pillow, her shirt was wrinkled and pushed up, showing her stomach because she had been moving around so much. I watched, shocked as she unknowingly kicked the covers from her, revealing black short shorts and patches of small bruises over her legs. I could do nothing but look on as I tried to force myself into moving. I reached the edge however, when in her sleep she turned her head, allowing me to see a large purple, almost black, bruise trailing from her temple to almost her jaw bone.
"Oh god," I mumbled to myself, feeling almost sick to my stomach. She had scratches all along her sides that had scabbed over and her eyes were squeezed tight almost like she was terrified. This was something I hadn't even considered could happen. I had been whisked away so easily to this place, but she... it was clear that she hadn't. It wasn't as simple for her, it seemed. Someone had hurt her, done something to her that caused these bruises, these scratches. It made my stomach swirl and my heart give out to know that someone had done this to her and I couldn't have done anything to help her. I had let this happen to her. If I hadn't of just pulled her down that stupid alley on Friday she would be fine. If I hadn't left that stupid camera on she wouldn't be covered in bruises.
My feet found themselves walking the trail to her bedside. The guitar that laid next to the door that I had previously brought to protect myself was just a reminder of how I wasn't able to protect her from this. Before I knew it, I was on my knees, kneeling next to her, my wide eyes covering every bruise and every scratch. She looked horrible and broken to a point where I was sure that a band-aid would never be able to fix this. I swallowed the lump in my throat, holding back the sting in my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. I had seen the guy commit murder, but this was just hitting too close to home. He had hurt someone that I had known, someone I was close to, and someone that- dare I say it- I may actually care about.
"Lola?" The words floated from my mouth as I lifted my hand to her arm. My eyes were boring into the bruises as my fingers brushed over her skin. My eyes shot to her face as she let out a low, pained moan, her eyes beginning to flutter. As quickly as it had been there, I retracted my hand, worried that she would flip out over the fact that I was touching her. But I couldn't seem to help myself. She looked so hurt and helpless, and instinctively my eyes lowered to the large purple bruise and my hand contacted once again with her skin, brushing over her temple. Slowly, her eyes began to open, and at first she looked confused as she focused in on her surroundings. It was almost like she was looking at anything but me as her face screwed up in pain.
"Lola? Hey..." I smiled as her eyes finally met mine. Softly, I brushed a few stray bangs away from her eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows at me.
"Nate?" Her voice strained, and my heart clenched at how tired and afraid she sounded. In that moment it was like every prank and every insult was put on the back burner and I felt obligated to take care of her. It didn't matter so much anymore that she hated me or that she wanted nothing to do with me. Looking at her then just instilled something in me, something that made me never want to see her like this again. It made me want to hunt down this guy and make sure he never laid a hand on her for as long as he lived. It was something that told me to make sure she would be okay.
"Yeah," I breathed, looking her over as she squinted her eyes, "It's me." She grunted a bit more, until she dug her face into the side of the pillow. For the few minutes before that, she had seemed somewhat okay. Once the pressure was on her bruise, she scrunched her eyes up, letting out low breath as she pulled away from the pillow quickly. She tried to reach her hand up to the bruise, but I beat her to it.
"Your okay," They spilled from my mouth. Before I knew it, I found her hand pressed up against mine to her cheek and I was seeing something I don't think I had ever seen before. She was smiling up at me from her place on the bed, bruises and all. It was apparent that it was my turn to be confused. Immediately my eyebrows furrowed and I shot her a questioning gaze.
"You don't know," She croaked, letting her eyes slip closed, but the smile never slipping from her face, "You don't know how afraid I was." Her eyes shot open to me again, and I could see the silent tears pooling. I may not have known how afraid she was, but I had a pretty good estimate. Whatever she had been through, with these black marks as evidence, was enough to convince me that it had been terrifying.
"I was afraid you were dead," She confessed, catching me off guard completely. I'm almost certain that my jaw dropped and my eyes grew two sizes. I had thought she was going to tell me about what had happened to her, what had caused these marks. Instead, she blew me away with this shred of information. She had be worried about me, and I think that shocked me more than any story I had been waiting to hear. The idea that she had been more afraid for me than herself was something I had never considered would happen. Sunday night she had been wishing I was dead, and now, here she was, so grateful that I was alive. What gives?
I felt her hand tighten over mine, almost gripping it. Her eyes were trained on my face as they darted back and forth between my own eyes. I could see how tired she was, and how hard it was just to stay awake right now. I wanted to know what had happened to her while I had been here, missing, but she was just too drained. I couldn't ask her that, not now, when she seemed at peace for just a while.
"You should get some rest," I told her, watching her eyelids slip down lower and lower. The corners of her lips inched downward and she tried her hardest to shake her head.
"I don't want to," She whispered, her voice hoarse. I tried to slowly pull my hand away from where it rested over the large purple bruise but when I did, her own hand grasped mine, keeping me from pulling away from her completely. I hadn't really noticed it at the time, but she was actually holding my hand, keeping me there with her, something I thought would never happen. Not that I had ever thought about it... much, anyways.
"Just rest, okay? I'll be downstairs if you need me," I promised, speaking lightly. Slowly, she began to shake her head again. Her eyes came back to bore into mine, the fear ever present and I felt the squeeze on my hand.
"Don't leave me," She pleaded. It was so quiet I had to strain to hear her. "He'll come back for me, and- and," She sniffled. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and her body shivered. The hand that wasn't in mine reached up to touch the scratches that trailed to her ribcage. They were deep and red, with blood dried along them. It was almost as if they had been created by a beast and not a human. I watched her fingers dance over the lines before I turned my gaze back to her face. A single tear dripped down from her eyes, and without a second thought to it, I pressed my thumb lightly to her cheek, brushing it away.
"I'll stay," I told her, resting my head on the side of the bed. I turned my head so I wouldn't have to see the numerous bruises and scratched on her body. Instead, I watched the door, almost forgetting that her hand was still entangled in mine.
"He's not going to touch you ever again, okay?" I breathed, "I promise you that." And as I said the words, I had to wonder if I was making a promise I couldn't keep. But I knew that as long as we were here, I felt obligated to be her protector. It was obvious that he had done far worse to her than to me, and I couldn't let him put her through it again a second time. If anything, I would make sure that I would be the one to take any more of the beatings he had in store because I never wanted to see her looking like this again. For as long as I had known her she had always been so strong and confident. Although the night of the murder, she had shown herself to be vulnerable, this was- this was so different. This was the vision of pain and torture. She couldn't protect herself anymore and this was proof. I had always viewed her as untouchable because she had a way of coming out completely unscathed from things, except this time she wasn't so lucky. This time she had been broken.
"Thank you," I heard her whisper and my eyebrows furrowed. I realized that this was the first thank you I had ever gotten from her. "And I'm sorry," The words floated into the air. Just as I heard them, I listened to her breathing even out. She was asleep, and I was stunned. Just what was she sorry for? I honestly didn't believe for a second that she was putting these past two years behind us, and besides, I wasn't ready to do that either. You couldn't just forget all the wrongs someone had done to you and move forward. And if you could, it was something that wasn't going to happen for us anyways. We had spent a great deal of our lives making the other person's a living hell and now we were supposed to be on the best of terms because of one tantalizing weekend? I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way. But in the same way, I also did appreciate the apology. It signified to me that she was willing to make a change, willing to work on making things right. And although this couldn't be worked out tonight, I would try my best to let it go.
After staying with her long after she was asleep, I felt her hand slip away from mine. It seemed like I had been in almost a sleep-like state, just thinking about things. Somewhere in that half an hour her body had shifted closer to mine, her hand limply tangled into my curls. I was still kneeling on the floor, my head resting on the mattress just below her own. I lightly lifted my head from it's position, her hand sliding out of my hair to rest across her chest. She didn't seem to notice that she wasn't holding onto me anymore, she just seemed at peace. I watched her for a minute or two, her chest rising and falling, before I stood. I had told her I'd stay with her, and technically I had, but I still felt like I was breaking my promise.
Slowly, I pulled the covers back up and over her before leaving the room. My feet padded lightly on the stairs as I found myself walking down into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I found it stock full of food, unlike how it had been yesterday. Someone had been here. I played with the idea of making Lola something for breakfast since she had been through so much, but I didn't have a clue what she liked. So I pulled out the toast, the bacon, a few eggs, and turned on the television. Taking out a frying pan, I cracked the eggs into it, making them sunny side up. My attention was focused on making the food, right up until I was stunned again by a news report that I should have known was coming.
"Los Angeles Socialite, Lola Luftnagle has been reported missing," The reporter's voice came through the television set. I looked up, expecting to see pictures of her room trashed, just like mine was, but there was none.
"The eighteen year old was reported missing at about four am last night. After hearing the shocking story of Nate Gray's disappearance, Miss Luftnagle, a friend of Nate Gray opted to spend the night at her close friend Jason Gray's apartment. The police were called to the apartment by Jason Gray, who was also accompanied by his younger brother, Shane Gray. When police arrived on the scene and were able to get into the room where Lola Luftnagle was staying, she was no longer there. The investigation is still on going, and if anyone has any information, we've been asked to contact the Malibu police station. We've received no more word from police, and Mrs. Holly Luftnagle was unable to be contacted for a statement."
The story was pretty basic, but I knew there was more to it than that. There were eight hours between four am and now, and something had happened. That something I didn't know yet, but I was going to find out sooner or later. I was just afraid to find out what it was. I had already seen the effects of what it was, and I was wary to find out just what had caused it.
I was just putting the finishing touches on breakfast, or lunch rather, when I heard the footsteps on the stairs. Our plates were made with smiley face eggs and bacon, and there was regular toast and cinnamon toast on a separate plate. There were a stack of pancakes on one side of the table and I had cut up some fruit for the both of us too. I hadn't known if she would eat the eggs, so I opted for pancakes, since most people like those. Even if she didn't like pancakes, there was fruit, and I was sure that everyone in the world ate fruit, except maybe Jason.
"Morning," I smiled, setting two glasses of orange juice next to our plates and seating myself. "I made breakfast. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I made a bunch of stuff, I hope it's okay-"
"You said you'd stay," Was all she said as her feet touched the last step. She stopped, looking over at me, the disappointment clear on her face. My eyes shot down to my plate just so I wouldn't have to look at her and I shoved a piece of bacon into my mouth. I listened to her footsteps start up again and get closer and closer until the seat across from me screeched against the floor and she sat. I looked up at her, and her face was blank, looking over everything that was placed on the table.
"You made this?" She asked, and I nodded, "For me?" Her eyes looked up to mine and I swallowed the bacon. It didn't go down so good as it scratched the sides of my throat, my face grimacing as it did.
"Uh, yeah... I guess," I admitted. She grabbed a fork, cutting off a piece of her sunny side egg and taking a bite. I was relieved that she liked at least something I had made, otherwise it would have been a complete waste.
"Thank you," She told me. I couldn't believe I was hearing those words for the second time today. It was so unreal. I smiled lightly at her, lifting my head to look at her face and I found myself trying not to let the smile slip away. The bruise was still there, dark and ever present. It was almost looming over the table, a constant reminder that we were way in over our heads. We were in danger, no matter how much I tried to deny it. The two of us remained in a comfortable silence, eating what we could of the large buffet. I noticed that she had to eat extra slowly, her bruise irritating her and causing pain every time she would chew too quickly. God, how I wished I could just take it all away for her, so she wouldn't hurt anymore.
"Nate?" She whispered, breaking the silence. It occurred to me that she was calling me Nate, when she usually referred to me as Nathaniel. The edge and the hardness seemed to fade with this realization, and I looked up to meet her gaze.
"Yeah?" I asked, finishing the last bite of breakfast on my plate.
"How did you find me? Did they catch him?" She asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what she was talking about. I hadn't found her. She had shown up in this place on her own accord. Then it hit me. She probably figured that I had brought her here, that I had saved her from him. My heart tightened and my stomach dropped, almost wishing that I had; almost wishing I could be considered her hero. Instead, she had been sucked in by this false sense of reality. She thought she was at my house, somewhere that was familiar to her. She thought she was safe, but she wasn't.
"I- Uh- No, Lola, they didn't catch him," I admitted and her shoulders dropped. I took a deep breath, trying to prepare to tell her that she was still missing, but the television that I'd left on beat me too it. Through the silence, it announced and update on the both of us, claiming that we were both still missing. When I caught her eyes again, she looked confused.
"But we're here," She mumbled to herself, her eyebrows furrowing. I reached my hand across the table to grab hers, but she retracted immediately. Her eyes stared into mine and she looked absolutely hurt, as if I had crushed her. It was almost a look asking me why I'd let her believe that she was okay, a look that told me I had better explain and quick.
"Lola, it's- ugh," I let out a low breath, "It's so complicated."
"Explain," She narrowed her eyes at me. Whatever niceness we had been sharing had been lost and she reverted back to the same old Lola we all know, and some love. That some didn't include me as if it weren't already obvious. I sighed, leaning back in my seat and trying to put my thoughts together. How would I explain this to her? It had already been hard enough for me to grasp on my own, and I still wasn't even fully believing it.
"Alright, in a nutshell, this isn't my house," I told her. I grabbed the remote off the middle of the table and changed the channel to the ones that I had thought showed my family's reality show. "That is." I spoke, changing the channels. The house seemed empty, which was normal since everyone had stayed somewhere other than home last night. As I changed the channels, once I came to the driveway, it showed a car I recognized as my parents pulling up. Lola's head immediately twisted towards the front doorway, waiting for them to come through, but they never did. She looked confused, and she snapped her head back to me, wincing lightly as the pain. She shot a questioning look to me, and I stood from the table. I grabbed her hand, she was too stunned to pull away, and I guided her towards the front door.
"The front door doesn't open," I told her, tugging on the doorknob for effect, "And the windows aren't really there." When I pulled away the curtains next to the front door, there was a lifelike picture of what would have been my front lawn. I unlocked the latches, and pushed the window up. Along with the window, the picture went up, and it revealed long industrial light bulbs that light up, making us believe the sunlight was shining through. When I glanced back at her face, she looked shocked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"My parents room is locked too, so is Jason's and Frankie's. I don't even think there's a room behind those doors." I admitted, leaning against the wall. Lola was just staring at the window, which was still pushed up to reveal the light bulbs. "Basically, he's trapped us here."
"But... what?" She asked softly, looking up to me. All I could do was nod. "We're trapped?" Her breaths became shorter, and she pressed herself up against the wall opposite me, trying to steady herself. It almost looked like she was about to hyperventilate. I pushed myself away from the wall I had been leaning on, and took a step closer to her. Placing my hands onto her shoulder, I dipped my head down to catch her gaze. She looked terrified.
"Lola," I asked, scrunching up my forehead, "What- what happened? What'd he do to you?" She didn't answer me, all she did was break down into tears. She wrapped her arms around herself, her head turning away from me to look down at the wood floors. I heard her hiccup, and it jump started me into action. In a moments time, I pulled her up against me, her head burrowing into my chest as my arms wrapped around her body. One arm was wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her in place, the other trailing up and down her back as I rested my head atop her own.
"You're alright," I whispered to her, my heart clenching, "You've got me, okay? And I won't ever let you go." It felt natural, and yet so unordinary. It left me without anything to say, but so much to think about. But the only idea that I could really grasp was that despite two years of rivalry, this just felt right to me.
A/N: When I was writing this, I kept listening to Tonight and Kung-Fu Grip over and over. They remind me of this story. So, tell me what you thought of A Little Bit Longer, and tell me which songs, if any (They don't have to be JB), remind you of this story. ABY is actually named after a song, so maybe you guys should google it and give it a listen. Oh, and would you like to see other POVs other than Lilly and Nate, to show what's going on outside the house? Or should that be portrayed through the cameras set up in Nate's real house? Anyways, tell me what you liked and didn't like, any feedback is appreciated. Also, I'm looking for someone to proofread future chapters. For more info, see my profile, and please PM if your interested. I'm going to try and have another chapter out before school starts next week. Review!