Chapter 4 ~
Rory ~
I wake up just as the sun's rising. Ignoring the excruciating pain, I stumble out of bed and grab a set of clothes from the dresser.
I grab a bandage from my first aid box as soon as I get to the car, needing to wrap my ribs before I drive. I’m not even sure if you’re supposed to wrap broken ribs—it’s what I’ve always done though.
I have to stop and blink a few times when my vision blurs. Lifting a hand, I feel a shit load of dried blood and a bump on the back of my head.
I might have a concussion, crosses my mind.
I lower my hand and tightly wrap my ribs. It hurts but my breathing is a lot better.
I drive the few short minutes to the clearing. When I get out to open the gate, I notice a figure standing on the verandah. It’s too dark to see them and my vision is blurry.
Not being able to focus on that too much, I eventually get the gate open and my car through.
I struggle to climb into the back, nearly falling out when I get dizzy. Not bothering with my sleeping bag, I just lay down, my pillow under my head.
It’s not long before I'm out again.
I'm shaken awake. Too tired and weak to fight the hands on my arms, I simply open my drowsy eyes.
"Luc?" I mumble, confused when I see his uniquely bright green irises.
"Rory? Can you hear me?" Luc asks frantically, panic in his eyes.
"Yeah." I rub my eyes. "Why do you sound like that?" My eyes close again, exhaustion preying on my mind.
"Rory, I need you to stay awake. Open your eyes, honey." He sounds calm now.
I wearily open my eyes and see the blurred outline of Luc's body. He's dialling a number on his phone with one hand while the other is gripping my hand.
"Who are you calling?" I yawn.
"An ambulance," he says shortly.
It takes a moment for that to register in my brain.
I fly up and rip the phone from his hand, scrambling to hang up just when someone answers.
At some point, my shirt has ridden up and exposed my bloody bandages. I yank my shirt down but it's too late. Pain travels through me with my fast movements.
"No," I say forcibly. "No ambulance. No hospitals."
I feel my breath shorten when Luc's hand moves from mine to my wrist. I try to pull away but he holds it tight, examining my hand palm up. My fingers are covered in blood from where it dripped down my hand before drying.
I lift a hand to my head almost instinctively and Luc tracks me. He moves closer, looking at the back of my head.
I'm too weak to stop him. His fingers brush against the bump on my head and pain travels through it making me whimper softly.
Luc's eyes cage mine in and I see the fire in them.
"Who?" He says dangerously.
My eyes cast down, saying nothing. Fingers gently grip my chin, lifting it til my eyes meet his.
"Please, Rory," he begs. I see the desperation in his bright moss green eyes. His fingers release my chin, his big hands cupping my face. They’re warm and soft.
I hesitate before giving in. "I have four days, Luc. I-I can't do anything to endanger that." I swallow deeply.
He sighs and before I can object, he wraps his arms around me. He's gentle, aware of my injuries as he rests my head on his chest. Tears prick in my eyes and I sniffle quietly.
"It's okay, Rory.” Luc soothes me. "I've got you now."
At his words, the dam breaks. All the pain and anger I've been feeling erupts into tears. My shoulders shake as I sob quietly, my chest heaving when it almost becomes hysterical.
I end up half in his lap, his arms tight around me like he's never letting go.
He whispers reassuring things to me that I want to believe. "You never have to go back," he swears, as my hands shake—gripping his shirt.
"I do," I whisper. “My father…he won’t let me go.” My voice is sore from being used so much—from crying.
"No, you have four days until you're eighteen.
There's nothing your father can legally do between now and then unless he has a really good lawyer in which case, mine is better.
You can stay at my grandmother's with me, okay? As long as you want.” Luc takes my hands into his.
Shame circles as how easy I would let this stranger comfort and hold me.
I pull back, putting my hands on his chest to keep him there. Luc immediately lets go, his hands falling away.
I search his eyes to see if he's really telling me the truth. His green eyes beg me to say yes.
I don't want to live as I have been. I don't want to be scared anymore.
I can't do it, it's slowly killing me from the inside.
I don't have to wait four days for freedom, Luc is handing it to me on a gold platter.
I feel safe with him. He truly seems to care about me. This is a safe place until I can leave.
All I have to do is take it.
Four days.
"Okay," I tell him, my voice wobbly. Relief shines through his body as he slumps.
"Wh—" my voice breaks and I try again. "Why are you helping me?"
Luc sighs. "There's no strings attached, Rory.
You won't owe me anything. It's just…I know what it's like to feel hopeless.
" I hesitate before reaching out and putting my hand on his, squeezing it.
He looks down and smiles, emotion storming in his eyes.
"I don't want that for you. You don't deserve it," he says quietly.
Tears slide down my face and at the sight of the first one falling, Luc collects me in his arms.
"Everything's going to be okay, Rory," he swears. "I promise."
Eventually, I have to move. The position I’m sitting in is killing my ribs. Every part of me aches. There’s a throbbing behind my eyes.
Luc reluctantly removes his arms and stands up. "Come on," he murmurs. "You still look tired and I have a perfectly good bed for you to sleep in."
He helps me stand up, a groan passing my lips before I can stop it. Luc's features grow dark and dangerous with every wince and painful movement I make.
It's a struggle to get out of the tray of my Hilux but I manage it with Luc's help. I hobble around to the driver's seat. Luc objects and I end up tucked safely into the passenger seat.
"How did you find this place?" Luc murmurs. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives the worn path to the gate I regret shutting.
"Before we first moved here, I'd tried to get away from him.
Legally." I don't meet Luc's questioning eyes, wanting to know more.
"It didn't end well and I needed an escape. I found the maps of the property and saw the road that goes past your place. It was your grandmother that showed me the clearing.” He doesn’t respond but I see him contemplate my words.
Luc gets out and opens the gate, shutting it behind me. I don’t miss the slight limp he has. He parks in the big garage attached to the house, just in case my father comes looking for me and sees my car. I'm quick to agree.
Luc opens the passenger door. I only pause for a moment before slipping my hand into his.
"Wait," I say when he's helping me to the garage door. He stops and his eyes meet mine.
"I have some clothes and stuff in my backpack," I explain.
Luc takes his arm off me and goes to the backseat to get my backpack. He puts it on his shoulder and his arm goes back around my waist again. It takes some pain off my ribs.
We get to the garage door which must connect to the house. I remember what Luc told me yesterday about having friends staying with him.
I hesitate at the door.
The fear must be evident in my eyes because he reassures me, "They aren't home, Rory. They won't be for a while."
I let Luc help me into the house. It's the same as I remember. There are floral prints and hand-knitted quilts everywhere. There's a few shirts and clothing spread around the place which I assume are Luc's and his friends.
His cheeks burn red and he goes around picking up stuff.
"It's fine, Luc." I chuckle, leaning against the bench. I smile tiredly when he chucks all the clothes he picked up into the closest room.
All in all, for a bunch of teenage boys, the house is pretty clean.
"Are you okay with my room? My grandmother has this weird rule that we're not allowed in the spare bedroom. She's done a lot for me so I have to abide by her rules," he says anxiously.
A secretive smile grows on my face. I crook my finger and he follows me down the hall to the last room. My fingers trail over the wooden sign on the door, 'Butterfly' engraved into it.
"How did you…?" He trails off when I open the door.
I take my backpack from his hands and put it on the bed, wincing at the sharp pain in my ribs. Picking up the quilt on the bed, I show him the stitching on it. In fancy cursive letters is my name. My real name.
"You're Butterfly?!" His jaw drops and I laugh softly. I look around at all the things Hannah’s added since I was last here.
Luc still looks lost and confused so I fill him in. "Hannah always said I was welcome here. I think she knew—to a degree. She hoped I would stay here with her. I never did," I reminisce sadly.
Luc guides me to sit on the bed with a tilt of his head. "Why didn't you?" He says quietly. He looks down at the hardwood floor.
"I was scared," I whisper. "Wasn't strong enough, I guess. It’s too close to him and I was afraid he'd come looking for me like last time.
I didn't want him to hurt her for helping me.
" I look at his hand, resting on his knee and I resist reaching for it.
"She told me about you." He grows still.
He doesn't say anything so I continue. "She said she hoped you would come live with her.
Last time I saw her, she told me she was leaving for a while.
She said that she had to help her grandson.
That her daughter had made some bad choices and he was paying the price. "
He takes shaky, uneven breaths and I feel his shoulders shudder.
"She was gone the next day," I say quietly. "I didn't realise she was talking about you until this morning."
He sniffles and my eyes widen.
"Luc?" I say quietly and he lifts his head in time for me to see a tear roll down his cheek.