A/N: Bear with me through this one, because obviously this is a work of fiction and I'm pretty sure a hair tie couldn't stop a giant ass lock, but whatever lmao. This is a short lil guy but hope you guys enjoy it anyways! Thanks for reading xx
Indiana.
Funny, that something as simple as a rubber hair tie could render a reinforced steel lock useless.
I'd done it before, but never when it was as important as that day was, and never on that strong of a lock. I figured the one time I really needed it to work, it wouldn't, but I guess I'd practiced it enough in my lifetime that I developed a skill for it.
The escape itself was anticlimactic.
Once the basement door was unlocked, it was a matter of running up the stairs into the kitchen, taking the hall to the left, and then the second door on the right to freedom. Thirteen steps in the staircase and approximately nineteen to the front door from there.
I went up first to provide a distraction in case Malcolm was home.
He wasn't.
Josie flew by me on nothing but pure adrenaline. I'd never seen someone run so fast. And then, just as quickly as she came into my life, she was gone.
My shaky legs took me to the hall and the first room on the right. His study; decorated in crimson reds and vibrant golds. It was where he kept his most precious pieces of art, and I found it strange he never locked it.
He'd taken me in there once before, to show me a painted portrait of himself dated hundreds of years ago. It hung above his large, mahogany desk, and remained there to that day.
He was nothing if not extremely vain.
Beneath the desk sat an old trunk packed tightly with bundles of cash. He said, that day he showed them to me, that they were for me.
"When your time comes."
I tore a curtain from the window, fashioned a bag using the drawstring, and shoved as many bundles as I could comfortably carry inside. I had no idea how long it would last me, but long enough I hoped.
When I walked through the open front door, it was pitch black outside.
The nearest streetlight was miles down the long, sloped road.
I took one step out of the courtyard and onto the street when a hand suddenly covered my mouth. Amidst my thrashing and screaming, I realized it held warmth, and then Josie's voice hushed me to be quiet.
"Come on. We have to go. I know somewhere safe."
She waited for me.
She waited for me and she didn't have to.
She was terrified – we both were – but the difference between us was her determination. She knew in her heart that if she could get us close enough to La Push, we would be safe.
We took off on foot into the city and hailed the first cab available. The driver took us as far as her company would legally let her, we paid in cash, and then we bought tickets for a long bus ride. Josie slept – I couldn't.
I still can't, really.
Not when dreaming isn't safe. Not when he's always there, waiting for me to slip up, waiting for me to give any kind of indication of where I might be.
Most nights I stare out of the window for hours on end, or at the wall, or the floor, or the same page of the same book I've been trying to read for days. When Josie and Embry are awake, it's not so bad. But once they're asleep the fear creeps right back in and sometimes I'm afraid to as much as blink.
Between guzzling enough coffee to give myself a caffeine overdose and taking hour long naps at a time, I've found that the days in La Push are filled with warmth and there's always something to do. It's summer and Embry says it's the warmest summer they've had in years.
I go to work in the early mornings and once I'm off I'm at the beach or hanging outside somewhere with Seth or Leah or Josie. It feels… almost like I belong here.
They accept me – more than anyone ever has, I think. More than I've ever allowed anyone to, anyways.
I can hear Josie rustling around in her bed downstairs. This house is eerily quiet most nights to the point where I can count her and Embry's breaths. Sometimes I even think I hear footsteps outside, but I chalk that up to paranoia.
She must be waking up for work.
I meet her downstairs in the kitchen ten minutes later, pretending I've just woken up. She's pulling her hair up into a ponytail with a few eggs on the counter next to a bowl. "Hey, you're up already?"
I slide into a seat at the table. "Biological alarm clock," I reply with a smile.
She snorts. "Well, I think it's broken." We both laugh and she cracks the eggs into a bowl. "Want some?"
I shake my head and get up to start a pot of coffee.
While she cooks, she mentions that Sam and Emily are finally hosting the "welcome home" party tonight at their house.
I try, in vain, to get out of it, but fail miserably. We've been here about two weeks now and things are finally settled, or, at least as settled as I think they could be, but I'm still a little nervous.
Things seem to have gone back to normal for Josie though.
I wish I could say it's the same for me, but I've never really had a normal life to begin with.
When I was young, I traveled a lot with my dad. He was a famous chef and had restaurant locations all over the world and I always went with him on business trips and location scoutings. I was homeschooled, so it made keeping up with my school work easy when the planes had Wi-Fi.
At the time, I don't remember questioning why, but my mother never joined us. Looking back, I don't think motherhood was for her, and I think my dad knew that. It was almost like he was afraid to leave me alone with her. I figured out why the hard way.
He was always the nurturing one – the one who cared. He cared about the things I was interested in. He cared about what I had to say. When I told my parents I wanted to be a ballerina, my mom said I'd always be too chubby, but my dad enrolled me immediately in the most prestigious ballet school he could find.
I guess that was both a blessing and a curse in the end, because that's what ultimately drew Malcolm to me.
Neither of my parents ever had the patience for the stories about my stalker with red eyes, however. Childhood imagination, they said. I realize now that was probably for the better, because there was nothing that could be done to stop him anyways. My mother learned that the hard way.
"Earth to Indie?"
My eyelids flutter and I look over at Josie. "Hmm?"
Her lips tug down into a frown. "You worry me, sometimes."
Sighing, I pour myself some coffee and take a seat at the table again. I keep her company while she eats breakfast and finishes getting ready for work.
Embry rolls out of bed a few minutes later to head out with her. They start work at the same time, but most days Embry leaves without a shirt or even shoes. I'm starting to really question him and his friends' line of work.
Patrols.
So, security? But without shirts or shoes?
It's odd, but I don't ask about it. I just wave them off and curl up in my bed until it's acceptably warm enough to go to the beach again.
I set my alarm for an hour out, take a nap, then shower and get ready for the day. That consists of a messy bun, a bikini under sweats and a loose tee, and flip-flops.
Pulling the door shut behind me, I decide to make a pit stop by the restaurant to find out what time the party is supposed to be at tonight. I didn't even think to ask earlier because I was so set on trying to get out of it.
It's not that I don't like Josie's friends, or that I don't want to meet people, I'm just a little socially rusty. That and I'm trying to learn how to cope with the intrusive emotions of everyone around me again. It's exhausting trying to separate what's yours and what's theirs and figuring out where the line is drawn.
I haven't told Josie about it, either.
Everyone I ever told just gave me that look and started distancing themselves from me. Honestly, I probably would've done the same thing if stranger things hadn't happened to me.
People here, they're probably used to normal.
The restaurant where Josie works, River's Edge, is a large, grey building with white trimmings and big windows. The river runs calmly behind it, hence where it got its name, rocking the crab buoys in the bay, and there's always at least one or two people fishing off the other side of it.
I walk out onto the old, decaying dock off the parking lot and glance over the railing into the dark waters. The other day I saw an otter swim by, but there's nothing except minnows and crayfish today.
I watch them crawl around for a few minutes before going inside.
A blast of warm air greets me when I open the door, and the bell above it chimes respectively.
Josie, pen in mouth and menus in hand, nods to a window booth for me to sit at while she punches in the orders for her customer's breakfasts.
I slink over to the booth and watch the river outside until she slides a mug of dark coffee in front of me. "You know," she says, leaning against the side of the booth, "you really shouldn't be on that dock until they replace it. One of these days you'll fall in."
Chuckling, I bring the mug to my lips and take a drink. "Guess I'd better learn to swim."
She gives me a blank look. "You can't swim?"
I shrug. "I was a ballerina, not a synchronized swimmer."
"Yeah but haven't you ever been in a pool?" She rolls her eyes and sighs. "Your parents suck."
Correction, my mother sucked. My dad was great. "I forgot to ask, what time is the party at tonight?" I change the subject.
"Emily said the food will be ready at six."
Nodding, I take another sip of coffee and set the mug on the table. "I'm probably gonna to go to the beach for the day," I tell her.
One of the cooks yells for Josie from the kitchen. She glances over her shoulder and taps the end of my table. "I'll bring you something to eat first. Hang on."
I chew on my lip and look back out at the river, my stomach growling at the mention of food. It's always been a battle, and I can't say I have the healthiest relationship with it, but anything is better than a tube down your throat.
A few minutes later, she returns and sets a bowl of fruit on the table. The bell above the door chimes again and Josie's face lights up with a smile.
I know that smile. It's the one reserved for Embry.
He and Jared walk over, Malachi close behind, with big grins on their faces. Embry wraps Josie in his arms and my coffee ripples as the other two slide into the seats across from me.
"What's up, Indiana," Malachi teases with a smile. He never stops making fun of my name.
Josie laughs and Embry smacks him on the back of the head and pulls a chair to the end of the table. "Dude, enough with the name shit."
"It's okay," I laugh. Even though it's a little annoying, I think Malachi's funny – like a brother I never had. He and Jared both get a kick out of teasing me relentlessly. And Seth. The three of them together is something out of a nightmare.
"What are you guys doing?" Josie asks.
Jared, flipping through the menu, grab's Josie's notepad from her apron and starts writing what he wants on it. "Just back from pranking Paul. We're starving," he replies.
She glares at him and yanks the notepad away, despite his protests, and slides into Embry's lap. "What did you guys do?" she asks accusingly.
Malachi laughs and swipes a piece of melon from my bowl. "Just some good old fashioned revenge," he replies. "We gotta get even with him somehow."
"Until he gets tired of it and rips your heads off." She shakes her head and stands up again. "Anyway, I'll bring you guys some food."
"But I didn't finish writing down what I want!" Jared whines, yelling after her.
"You'll get what I bring!"
"Paul's probably coming too!" Jared throws the pen at her and she flips him the bird behind her back as she saunters off to the kitchen. I smile to myself and stab my fork through a strawberry, popping it into my mouth.
"Sorry we interrupted your breakfast," Embry says to me politely. He looks like a completely different person after cutting his hair and shaving off all the stubble. His eyes are brighter, too. So are Josie's. Maybe true love really does exist.
Malachi snorts. "Breakfast? That's bird food."
Embry rolls his eyes. "If you didn't know it by now, don't listen to anything he says. Ever," he jokes.
Malachi throws a crumpled napkin at him in protest. "Actually, if anything I'm the one she should listen to, because I am full of knowledge and know-how, and you two are full of shit."
I laugh again and listen to them bicker back and forth for a good fifteen minutes before Josie arrives with plate after plate of food. She sets them down in no particular order and makes a second trip to the kitchen to bring more.
The last two plates she sets in front of the empty seat next to me, then glares at Jared. "These are Paul's," she says sternly, pointing her finger at him. "Don't touch them."
He makes a face. "Paul can fend for himself. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there."
"Yeah, well then eat up you ravenous pack of wolves," she mutters with a grin.
Malachi nearly chokes on a piece of bacon and the other two boys burst into a fit of laughter. I miss the joke, but laugh anyways.
Their friendship has such an interesting dynamic. Like brothers. Real brothers. If I didn't know any better by what I've been told, I would think they actually were. I'm so fascinated by their feelings and moods around each other. They kind of like a well-oiled machine. If the rest of Josie's friends are anything like these three, maybe the party won't be so exhausting after all.
Life can be surprising sometimes, but I don't think anything prepared me for what happens next.
The bell above the door chimes again and Josie, who just walked off to get drinks, points at our booth.
And just like that, seconds later, he comes thundering into my life as swiftly and unexpectedly as a midsummer storm. A hard jawline, a guarded posture to his approach, and swirling amber eyes that seem to go on forever.
My heart skips a beat.
Oh.
A/N: I could dance! next chappy is the official meeting and then the fun stuff starts! thank you for reading and reviewing and I wish there was a way to reply directly to reviews without making a giant a/n cuz i would! xx