runaways// 68 Kill

three

I step out of my room, but stop when I step on something crunchy. I look down to see a crunched up Lone Star beer can. I begin to feel panic and dread. Robbie only drank Lone Star, and refused to drink anything else. Is this a sign? Is he doing this to intimidate me? Fuck, I got too comfortable here.

I went three weeks with no sign of Robbie, and I convinced myself I was safe. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Lone Star is a popular beer here, I mean I'm in the Lone Star state. Why outside of my door though? Out of everyone's door it could've landed in front of it had to be mine. I look over at Chip's door and I knock on it quickly.

The door swings open and I meet his tired eyes, "Is this yours?" I hold up the beer can and he furrows his eyebrows.

"Lone Star is shit. No." He blandly states and I let out a sigh. I turn back around and look over the balcony for any sign of him. Where could he be hiding? Why me? Why can't he just move on? I want to move on. I want to stop living in fear.

"Dahlia, what's going on?" I feel Chip's hand on my back. The act comforts me.

I throw the empty can into the parking lot before I turn to face him, "If you see a guy with brown hair, about six foot one, kind of tan, dirty looking, and a beard hanging around my door call me." I take a pen out of my vest pocket and write the number of my burner phone on his forearm. He looks sad. I don't know if he feels sad for me, or because I'm dragging him into this.

"When you get inside write this on a piece of paper or something so you don't lose it, okay?" I instruct him and he slowly nods his head before pulling me into a hug. I'm taken aback at first, but I wrap my arms around him.

"Please be safe." Chip whispers.

I could see myself falling in love with him. Chip is gentle, thoughtful, and caring. I've never met a guy as genuine as he is. I need to stop romanticizing him. I can't get myself involved with anyone right now. It's too risky for both of us. I can't let him be in danger with me. It's selfish.

I walk to my car to go back to work. I just have to stay here for another two weeks so I can get enough money to flee somewhere else. I can't stay in one place too long because that'll just make it easier for him to find me. I just hope that when I get to California he'll give up by then.

-

I quickly scan items and stay aware of my surroundings. This is the only grocery in this bum fuck of a town. It wouldn't be hard for him to find me. I look down to see two steaks and swipe them against the scanner. I look up to see my brown eyed neighbor.

"I couldn't ignore the sale." He smiles at me. Chip needs to stop. The more he hangs around me the closer he is to danger. How can he not see that? I'm a ticking time bomb.

"You're just in time. Today was the last day." I smile back. Why do I always get butterflies around him? Maybe they're just cockroaches. I tell him the total of his items and he pulls out his wallet. I can't help but notice the large stack of cash inside. Where did he get all of that? If he has that much money why is he still at a shitty motel? What is he running away from?

I hand him back his change before I bag up his groceries. What if this is fate? What if we were supposed to run into each other? No. Don't get hopeful, Dahlia. You're life isn't some romance movie. I give him the bags and he graciously takes them.

"Thanks, I'll see you around neighbor." I watch as he leaves. I'm so worried about him. I'm more worried about him then I am myself. I can't get him into my mess. He doesn't deserve that.

-

I sit on my bed and flick through the available channels on the motel television. There isn't a lot, but I end up watching old re-runs of The Simple Life. It must be so nice to be them. They don't have to worry about anything. Everything is just handed to them. Oh, how I would love to live their life.

I'm taken out of my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door. I quietly open the drawer next to my bed and pull out my gun. I stuff it behind my back into the waistband of my shorts before I peek through the window. A sigh of relief leaves my lips when I see Chip. We really need a secret knock for him, so I won't accidentally shoot him. I open the door to see him holding the bag I gave him at work.

"I was gonna cook these at the community grill...do you want to join me?" He holds up the bag with the steaks. I think about it before I answer. Is that too out in the open? What if Robbie is watching us? I can't even imagine the rage he'll feel when he sees us together. Am I being too paranoid?

I feel my stomach rumble. Fuck it.

"Yeah, hold on." I close the door a little to put my gun back and grab my keys, so I can lock my door behind me. I follow him to the grill and watch as he preps everything. I'm glad to see he's seasoning the food. I was worried I'd have to eat a bland steak. Once the steaks are on the grill, Chip sits in the lawn chair next to mine.

"Do you always grab your gun before you answer the door?" He asks and I let out a sigh. Why does he want to know so much about me?

"Do you always ask so many questions about people's personal lives?" I shoot back, and he furrows his eyebrows. I don't want to push him away, but I know I have to. I just don't want to hurt him. I can tell he's already been through enough. We both have. I guess misery really does love company.

"Who are afraid of seeing behind that door?" He finally looks at me, and I can see genuine concern in his eyes. I wish he didn't care so much, but I get it. I would be the same way.

"My ex-fiancée." I decide to be honest with him. It's the most I can do for him. It's not like anything can happen between us, so honesty is the only thing I can give him.

"Is that where your bruises came from?" I don't hear any pity in his voice which is surprising. I appreciate it though. I hate feeling pitied like I'm some sick puppy. I nod my head and he looks straight ahead for a moment.

"Why didn't you call the cops?" He asks and I let out a laugh.

"They don't really do anything when they've been friends with your abuser since middle school." It's true. I called them, and Robbie told them I was crazy. They believed him, and left. I almost had to go to the hospital that night he had beaten me so bad afterwards. They didn't even bat an eye.

I watch as he furrows his eyebrows, "What'll happen if he finds you?"

I look down at my hands before I answer him, "He said that when he finds me...he'll kill me, and I know he meant it."

He's quiet again. This is where you run, Chip. I'm damaged goods, and you don't want to get involved. Don't let yourself become involved in my problems. You deserve better then this.

"I guess we'll just have to make sure he never finds you then." He says before he gets up to check on the steaks.

We?

Why is he getting involved? I can't be fixed or helped. This is my problem. I need to figure it out on my own and I can't have anyone get hurt in the process. I couldn't care less about myself, but I do care about Chip. Maybe I care a little too much.