Hey look, I'm finally updating this story after a few years! This was intended to be the last chapter of Runaway, but I think there'll definitely have to be an epilogue, if only for Mickie to make an appearance. Apologies in advance as I'm a little rusty having not written anything for ages. Enjoy! xxx
"Phillip."
Marianne greeted her fiancé with thinly veiled contempt once he had removed the makeshift gag from her mouth. Something that did not go unnoticed by the man in question, who took a step backwards from the brunette woman before lifting her chin with a gloved hand, and forcing her to meet his gaze.
"My dear Marianne, whatever have I done to deserve such a welcome from my fiancée?"
"I know what you've done. I know what you are."
"What I am?" Phillip raised a brow as a sly smirk played on his lips.
"You're a criminal...a murderer." the brunette woman almost choked on her words.
"Marianne, I do believe that this country air has gone to your head. What you're saying is preposterous. Everybody knows that I am a gentleman, and a pillar of the community. I have everything I could possibly want."
"Except me."
"Look, I don't know where you got the notion that I'm some kind of master criminal, but we shall put an end to it now."
"Are you going to kill me?" the brunette woman asked.
"Kill you?" Phillip and Gallows broke into a chorus of laughter, "My dear, no. I'm going to marry you."
"You still expect me to marry you?" Marianne was shocked and a little afraid.
"That's what engaged people do. You accepted my proposal back in New York, did you not? And is that not my..." Phillip trailed off as he caught sight of her naked ring finger.
"Where is your engagement ring?" he demanded to know.
"I'm sure it's in a safe place." Joseph spoke up when his daughter did not reply.
"Nobody asked you, old man."
"Do not speak to my father that way." the brunette woman hissed.
"I asked you a question, Marianne. Where is your engagement ring?" Phillip narrowed his eyes.
Marianne was stuck for words. Although she refused to wear the ring on her finger, she had been wearing it on a chain around her neck in order to keep it close in case of needing to sell it in order to escape further away from her murderous fiancé. There was currently no chain around her slender neck, although there had been last night. The only explanation was that it had detatched during her night spent with Heath.
"I know where it is," she replied, "No need to worry."
"But you should be wearing it. I want all other men to know that you are mine. You belong to me, Marianne. Nobody else." Phillip's eyes bore into hers.
"There isn't another man, is there?" Randy smirked from where he sat on the hood of his car.
"Do you know something, Randal?" Phillip pressed the St. Louis native for information whilst his gaze never left his fiancée.
"Let's just say that your dear fiancée has made quite an impression on a certain local."
"And is this local a male?"
"Indeed."
"And does he have a name?" Phillip asked through gritted teeth.
"Heath Miller. He's a farmhand at the old man's place." Randy revealed, taking a triumphant puff of his cigarette.
"Is that true, Marianne?"
"Is what true?"
The words had barely left her lips when she felt the sting of Phillip's hand across her cheek. She sunk to her knees in shock but her fiancé pulled her back to her feet by roughly tugging at her sleeve. Her father was being held back by Gallows as he attempted to intervene. For a brief moment she had felt bold enough to challenge her fiancé, but now she was more afraid of the man in front of her than ever before. She was afraid, not just for herself, but for all of the people that she cared for.
"I know it's true. I can see it written on your face," her fiancée rambled, "The real question is why you wouldn't just admit it."
Marianne said nothing. She braced herself for another strike but instead Phillip spoke again.
"Is it that you reciprocate the farmhand's feelings, hm?"
"Heath is a good man." she stated.
"Oh, Marianne. How did my beautiful fiancée become some country hick's whore?"
Phillip raised his hand to strike his fiancee once more, but was distracted by a voice behind him.
"Let her go."
Jack Clearwater appeared from behind the thick overgrowth, brandishing a shotgun, and flanked by both Adam and Stu, as well as Michelle's husband Mark. The foursome squared up to Phillip, Gallows, and Randy, who drew their fists in preparation for a physical altercation.
"Am I to believe that your memory has returned, old man?" Phillip addressed Jack.
"We take care of our own here." the older man replied, still aiming his shotgun.
"My fiancée is not your own. She belongs in New York with me."
"Over my dead body."
Marianne knew that Southern drawl. Her green eyes found his brown ones and time stood still for a moment.
"Let me guess, you're the farmhand?" Phillip spat venomously.
"Yes I am. And I know who you are." the redheaded man replied.
Rage clouded Phillip's eyes as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol, aiming it right at Heath, his finger hovering dangerously over the trigger. The farmhand seemed to have accepted this fate, taking a step forward and staring into the hateful eyes of his love rival.
Marianne saw Phillip pull the trigger and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She heard her own screams echo around the clearing as Heath fell to the ground with a thud. Finally allowing her eyes to look upon the scene in front of her, the brunette woman gasped when she saw that Jack was on the ground with Heath. A gunshot wound stained the shoulder of the older man's plaid shirt with a patch of dark red blood.
"Why did you save me?" the redheaded man asked.
"Because you're my son, Heath," Jack smiled through the pain of his injury. "I should have told you sooner, but I'm your father."
"Somehow I already knew." Heath smiled down at the older man.
"Well what do we have here?"
A man of around fifty with a greying ponytail appeared. He was dressed similarly to the cowboys that Marianne had seen in the movies at the drive in theater. A pistol was sitting in the brown leather holster that he wore around his waist, next to a set of handcuffs and a Sheriff's badge.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Phillip asked, visibly annoyed.
"I'm Sheriff Michaels, and I believe we got a problem here."
"Problem? What's the problem?" Gallows asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Well it's come to my attention that since you fellas arrived in Greenwood you've been involved in a variety of illegal activity. Assault, bribery, kidnap... The kind of things that'll land you in jail for a long time."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No, Sir. I'm arresting you." Sheriff Michaels replied, taking a set of handcuffs from his belt.
"That's absurd! You can't arrest me!" Phillip exclaimed as his hands were cuffed.
"Don't worry, your friends are coming to jail with you." Sheriff Michaels smirked. Both Gallows and Randy were prepared to evade capture, but found themselves restrained by Stu and Mark long enough to be cuffed too.
"Marianne, I need to know, will you be going home to New York now that this is all over?" Heath asked her as they sat in his truck after an eventful day giving statements to the Sheriff and getting some medical attention for Jack, who was thankfully going to make a full recovery.
"That was always the plan," she nodded, "But not anymore. Greenwood is my home now."
Heath was visibly relieved by this new development. Truth be told, he loved her more than he ever thought possible. He broke into a smile as she patted his knee reassuringly. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently, marvelling at how soft her skin was in comparison to his own calloused hands. The redheaded man licked his lips slowly as he thought through what he was about to say to her.
"I've been thinkin' that perhaps I should make an honest woman of you."
"Are you asking me to marry you?"
"Are you saying yes?"
"Yes, I'll marry you." Marianne smiled, nodding her head eagerly.
Heath brought her hand to his lips and kissed it before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and producing a delicate silver ring with a single pearl in the centre. He brought his brown eyes to meet her green ones as he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.
"It's beautiful. Where did you get it?" asked Marianne, admiring the ring on her finger.
"Jack gave it to me when the doctor was fixing him up," replied the redheaded man, "He told me that it belonged to my mother."
"I shall treasure it forever."
"And I'll treasure you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
Marianne brought her hand up to caress Heath's cheek, brushing a strand of red hair out of his face as she did so. He mirrored her actions, cupping her cheek with one hand and leaned forward to meet her lips halfway.