Too Far

08: Her

They'd hit too close to home. Robbie was angry, seemingly realizing how close he really was. I touched the spot over my eyebrow, wincing slightly. It was puffy. Looking in the mirror, I saw that I was sporting a large bruise over my right eyebrow and my right collarbone ached. I was sure I'd be showing another bruise there later.

Robbie had lashed out, as seen by the bruise; I could pick out the knuckle shapes where the bruise was darker. If we were found by a "good Samaritan" like Emmett, Robbie could completely be dumped into jail.

I obviously didn't want this either; if we were found, I could be put in jail for murder on multiple accounts (Walsh and Sarah), for faking my own death, for fleeing the scene of a crime, and for dealing drugs. I passed on from the window, adjusting my shirt to hide the "R.B." tattoo. It was shameful, but it was also my ticket into Robbie's inner circle. This job could have a terrible pay, like if I didn't have the tattoo, or it could have great pay. Granted, I risked a lot more than others, but this was my lifeline.

I would probably die if I didn't have this anyway, so it was a lose-lose thing. Biting my lip, I pulled my hood over my head, my chin-length hair tucking behind my head. Another hooded figure swam into view and I sighed. Was this really who I was turning into? A sketchy druggy with the cliché hood?

As always, the man was shady. Robbie made all of us carry guns, because he worried about "us girls." Some of them were trying to get out, but I couldn't afford to. I really wanted out, but it was dangerous; if you run, he finds you. Robbie was ruthless, and we were all uncomfortable with him there.

He didn't act right. Of course, how right could a drug lord act? But he was a little too friendly to some girls. Luckily, I wasn't one of them. He was cold and detached around me and I wanted it to stay that way. I didn't like him at all, and I figured that feeling was reciprocated.

As I slunk away through the shadows, I felt my hand find the holster. I wasn't legally allowed to carry one, but I also wasn't legally alive. Robbie told me that, if I couldn't clean up and throw them off from me, I would have to find a way to get rid of whoever was leading them to me. I told him I would never hurt Emmett or Katherine, because he was finally moving on, and I hadn't really seen anything before pain exploded near my tattoo.

He said he just had to "remind me who I belonged to and worked for." Anger and shame ate at me, but I couldn't do anything about it. He was right; I had put myself in this position and had to do what I was told. The "R.B." was proof of that.

I needed food, so I ducked into a bathroom with my contacts. I put green contacts over my naturally hazel eyes. It wasn't a significant difference, but it was enough. I dabbed on some dark eye shadow and lipstick. The things Selena taught me never left, and I walked out looking like a different person. Throwing half my hair into a bun, because the other half was too short, I walked into a fast food restaurant. The risk of someone I knew seeing me was so high, I felt my nerves tingling in preparation.

I was always ready to take off. I didn't have a car, nor had I driven since I was fifteen, but I was still a good runner. Not physically, but in general.

I ordered fries, keeping my face turned down a little more while passing over a twenty. It was the nicest thing to have such a high dollar to hand over. I used to be scrounging for coins in a cheap, thrift shop wallet. I'd exploited my high pay when Robbie let a ton of men go and us girls were elevated by buying a Coach wallet. To others, it wasn't much. To me, it was like buying a slice of heaven. I'd never had such quality wallets.

I sat in the corner and faced away from the people eating, putting my head down and eating my fries silently. Robbie was the one who kept me with a phone, though he had the ability to cut it off. It could easily be tracked, so I usually left it at home unless I needed it.

The door opened and I instinctively looked. I preferred to know what kind of people were surrounding me and where any exits were. That would be drilled into me forever.

My eyes flew open when I saw an almost mirror image of the old me walk in. She had catlike eyes, slightly unlike my doe eyes, but they were the same color. Her hair was down to her waist and she had a hard look on her face. After her came in Emmett. I didn't want to be too obvious, but my foot was bouncing with the need to get out and my heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through my whole body.

I saw her eyes rake the place as though she was in the habit of it as well and jerked my head back down, wanting to put my hood up but knowing that would draw attention to me.

Seeing Emmett made me want to walk up to him, to fold into him and let him tell me it would be okay like he always did. It always made me so crazy when he said that, crazy with anger because I knew it was a lie. Tears pricked my eyes and I shook my head almost imperceptibly. I wouldn't let those emotions back in. I'd finally gotten to a place where I didn't fear everyone and I didn't want to cry all the time and here he was, forcing me back into that hole.

The truth was this: I liked being a hollow shell of a girl. I didn't feel those things that made me pathetic and slowed my life down. I didn't feel much at all. If I did, I wouldn't survive here.

I felt my cheeks wet and my heart pounded into my ribs. I stood up a little too quickly, the chair scraping on the ground in my haste. I stopped, trying to look like a normal person, before dropping my things in the trash. I wiggled my foot, loosening the strap of my sandals quickly as I heard another chair scrape against the floor. I hoped it wasn't Emmett's.

As soon as I made it out, I glanced into the window. I was glad it was dark; they couldn't see out, but I could see in. Emmett's eyes were wide as he walked to the door to leave. My breathing coming in ragged pants, I slipped my sandals off so I could run faster and grabbed them, dropping one before running. I darted into a shadow, pressing against the wall and letting more tears fall.

I hated myself because a small part of me wanted him to find me. Scratch that; a large part. For once, more of me wanted to be found than wanted to stay hidden. But my feet and legs tingled. I wouldn't have been surprised if they took off on their own accord. Emmett strayed close; he was looking down the street, standing directly next to my hiding place in the crevice between two buildings.

I could smell the cologne. It hadn't changed in all the years, and my eyes rolled closed as I took in as much as I could. His voice was the same smooth sound it had always been as he let out a loud expletive. "I know you're out there." My heart was chipping away at the desperate sound in his voice. "I saw you," he said, looking back in the other direction. In the streetlight, I saw some moisture glinting on his cheek. As he walked back, slumped and broken, I let myself collapse and cry until there were no more tears to give.

He took my other shoe.