Hide (Sequel to RUN)

Chapter 18

I was out of the house before I realized that I'd left my shirt and shorts on the floor. But I couldn't go back in. Right now, I had to get out of here.

You can't exactly walk down the highway half-naked, I thought. You'll get admitted. My crotch rocket was still at Em's, so I had no ride. Thinking quickly, I ran over to Lansing's police-light-equipped truck and slipped in. As I was searching for the keys, Lansing ran out the door.

"Sweetheart!" he yelled, running over. I slammed the door shut and locked myself in.

"Come on, Sweetheart," Lansing moaned through the closed window. "I thought we agreed we're not going to run out on each other." I ignored him, deciding that I would have to hot-wire his car if I wanted to go anywhere.

"Sweetheart," Lansing begged, his voice cracking. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he leaned his forehead on the glass, looking defeated. He pushed off the truck slowly, heading over to the passenger side. I watched him closely, not quite sure if he was going to break the window to his own truck or not.

To my surprise, he unlocked the truck and then opened the door before I could hit the lock button. I threw my head back onto the headrest, kicking myself for being so stupid. Of course he had the keys. It was his truck.

I promptly ignored him, looking out the window at Maki's car instead.

"I didn't want to drug you," Lansing finally breathed.

"Then you shouldn't have," I snapped, still looking out the window.

"Dang it, Sweetheart!" he shouted. My back stiffened, waiting for him to turn into my father. But he didn't.

I looked over slowly. He was staring at his dashboard, jaw set. Then he buried his head in his hands.

"You'll be the death of me," he sighed, bringing his head up once more to look at me.

"Do you know how dangerous sleep deprivation is? By day six you lose all sense of reality. A man has died of heart failure before just by going three days without sleep."

"How do you know all that?" I scoffed.

"Tim explained it all to me."

"Tim needs to keep his mouth shut."

"Tim is just trying to help. Just like we are," Lansing tried to explain.

"I don't need help!" I shouted, exasperated. "I need people to leave me alone."

"Do you really mean that?" Lansing asked. I turned toward him, and the hurt in our eyes met with such intensity that I had to look away.

"I'll take that as a yes," Lansing sighed, running a hand down his face. He did that a lot around me.

A second later, Lansing grabbed my hand. I jerked, trying to get away from him. He simply put a set of keys in my palm.

I looked up at him, nervous. The keys rattled as my hands began to shake. I watched him closely as he grabbed my shirt and shorts from behind him and showed them to me.

"You can come back when you're ready to let us help you," Lansing declared, opening the door and getting out. I continued to watch as he slammed the door shut and walked slowly back to his house. He was giving me ample time to get out of the car and change my mind.

I didn't take it.

I longed to jump out of the car and run after him. My throat was clogged and the pit of my stomach felt like it had sank to my feet. I knew deep down that I did need help and that Lansing could help me. The thing was, there was another part of me that didn't want to be seen as weak. That part usually won out.