Running Away (Finding Your Place Book 2)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
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Running Away
Rebecca Barber
Running Away
Copyright © 2017 by Running Away.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: March 2017
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-010-7
ISBN-10: 1-64034-010-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
“One day someone is going to hug you so tight that all of your broken pieces will stick back together.”
Thank you, Robert, for being my someone.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
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Chapter 1
Derek
“Stop trying to protect me! Damn it, Derek. I’m not some fragile little girl you need to baby,” Zoe snapped, exasperated.
“Could have fooled me!” I snarled grimly.
Over the past couple of months since Spencer’s death, I thought Zoe would get better. Hoped she’d get better. But as days turned into weeks, then into months, and I was forced to watch her withdraw from the world, fade into the shadows, and now she’d left me no choice. She was breaking my heart. Spencer had been my best friend and I had no doubt in my mind that he’d be anything but okay with this. No matter how many times Zoe told me she was fine or how many fake smiles she plastered across her pretty little face, enough was enough.
“Zoe, come on, please! Spencer wouldn’t want…”
“Spencer’s not here!” Zoe’s voice broke as she screeched at me, tiny bits of spittle landing on the wooden floorboards beneath her sock-covered feet.
I watched as her eyes filled with tears, and part of me wanted to rush to her side and wipe them and the hurt away, but there was nothing I could do. Zoe was broken. She’d been broken. I didn’t have a clue on how to fix her. Everything I thought of, I’d already tried. Twice. When she cried, I held her in my arms until the sobbing stopped and exhaustion consumed her. When she forgot to eat, I brought her food and almost force fed her. I’d listened to her scream and rant when she’d needed to just get it out. I’d even been her punching bag. Now I was left with only one idea. I knew Zoe wasn’t going to like it, but it was time. Time for me to dish out some tough love. “I know Spencer’s not here. Do you think I’ve forgotten? Are you that fucking selfish? Do you not think that Spencer’s death destroyed me to? He was my best friend, Zoe. Since we were kids we were inseparable. I was supposed to be the best man at his wedding. Your wedding. But he’s gone. And I’m not. And you’re not. And I couldn’t save him. But I’m damn well going to save you, even if it’s only from yourself.”
“Derek…I didn’t mean…” Zoe moved towards me. With her wide, sad eyes downcast, her shoulders hunkered forward, she destroyed the only piece of my heart that was still intact. I loved this girl with everything I was. She was the sister I never had, but right now, right now she was killing me.
“I know you didn’t. I know. We just…we can’t keep going on like this. Something’s got to change. We’re both going insane and we’re taking it out on each other. You’re the only family I have left, Zoe. You have to get better. I need you to.”
“I’ll do better,” Zoe promised as the tears overflowed and streamed down her face. “I’m…trying.”
“I know you are, Princess. Go put your shoes on and get in the car. I’m taking you somewhere.” I watched as she straightened her spine. She hadn’t left the house in days, maybe even weeks. Since we’d returned to Melbourne, Zoe’d become a shell of the girl she once was. I wanted my Zoe back, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. “Come on! You’ve got five minutes to get your cute little butt in my truck or god help me, Zoe, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and put you there myself.”
“Derek…”
I could hear the fear in her voice and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I hated what I was doing to her. If I could think of another way, then I would have tried something else. Anything else. But the wheels were in motion, no point turning back now. I heard the scuff of her feet as she shuffled away. When the noise stopped, I dared to look up. If I was being honest, I was doing a lousy job of holding myself together. Seeing my reflection staring back at me in the crystal-clear window pane scared the crap out of me. I looked old. My hair was too long, my eyes hollow, and the couple of days’ worth of growth on my chin was mangy and unkempt. It was time I got my shit together. If I was going to force Zoe back out there in the real world, then I wouldn’t send her out there alone. That was just mean.
“Two minutes!” I called out, turning away from the image that haunted me. Scooping up my keys, I stuffed my wallet and phone into the pocket on my jeans and tugged on my leather jacket that was draped over the couch.
I leant against the back of the black leather couch and waited. Time see
med to drag by and still Zoe didn’t appear. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that ten minutes had gone by and she had yet to emerge from her room. It took all the strength I had to not to barge in there, toss her over my shoulder, smack her disobedient butt, and march her out.
“Come on, Zoe. It’s gotta happen sometime!”
That damn girl was too stubborn for her own good. After another ten minutes, I knew we were going to be pushing it for time now. I hadn’t told her where we were going. I knew the moment I did she’d freak out and I’d never get her out the door. Trying to rein in my frustration was anything but easy. It was growing harder and harder each day. I’d given up everything for her and she barely noticed, let alone appreciated it. Spencer’d been my best friend and I’d lost him too. Not once had Zoe looked up from her own pity party and cared whether or not I was coping. I knew she didn’t mean to be a selfish bitch, and normally she wasn’t, but this situation was anything but normal. Spencer had died in front of us, then I’d been the one to arrest his killer. His twin brother. I’d carried Spencer’s coffin and given a eulogy. I testified at Kane’s trial and I’d picked Zoe up off the floor more times than I could count. The truth was, I was tired. So damn tired. Things had to change. I couldn’t keep going through life like a zombie. I didn’t want to. My two best friends in the world were gone. They didn’t get to live. They didn’t get to be young and impulsive and reckless and stupid. So I had to be for all three of us. It was a lot of pressure. A fucking lot.
Knocking on the door, I was more than a little afraid of what I’d find waiting for me on the other side.
She didn’t answer. She rarely did.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
I felt my chest tighten. Maybe I’d pushed too far. Too fast. I could be an asshole when I wanted to be. “Zoe?” I called out, barely recognizing my voice. It trembled with nerves.
When she didn’t answer, I tried the handle, more thankful than I could ever express that we didn’t have locks on the door. Stepping through the doorway, I was shocked by what I found. Zoe’s bedroom was a bombsite…and the girl was borderline OCD. Dirty clothes littered the floor, the bedside table was covered in empty glasses, the bin was overflowing with used tissues, and her computer on the desk by the window was almost buried by the stack of plates. Then there was the stench. It was rancid. I didn’t know it was possible for a girl to smell so badly. It was worse than anything I could imagine and I’d spent time in football locker rooms.
“Zoe? Where are you?” I called out as I stepped over a pile of something I didn’t even want to look twice at.
It felt awkward. Like I was invading her privacy. Like I was breaking some kind of unspoken rule. The moment the whimpering reached my ears I no longer gave a fuck about anything else, though. Kicking a damp towel out of the way, I headed straight for her ensuite bathroom. I raised my hand and knocked, but didn’t wait for an invite before pushing my way through the door. Then I came to a screeching halt.
“Zoe!”
The moment I saw her I wanted to be sick. I tasted the bitter bile burning the back of my throat as I was forced to swallow it back down. I’d known she was broken, but I hadn’t expected this. How the fuck did anyone expect this?
“I’m…I’m…” Zoe tried, but she couldn’t get the words out. She looked like they were choking her as her face paled.
Her eyes were red and rimmed with unshed tears, but that wasn’t what broke my heart. With her sweat pants around her ankles, Zoe sat on the cold bathroom tiles in her panties and stained shirt. In her tiny hands, she held a blade. Her thighs revealed the truth. I didn’t know how long it had been going on, or why she was doing it, but I’d be fucked if she thought for a minute that I was going to stand by and let her make another single mark on her skin. Not under my fucking watch.
Inside, my blood was boiling. I knew shit was bad. I knew what she’d been through. Hell, I knew what she was still going through, but this, this was a whole other level. This was bat shit crazy. I wanted to slap her. Pick her up and shake her. I wanted to demand to know what the fuck she thought she was doing. But the fear on her face stopped me dead in my tracks. Ranting and raving might help calm me down, but it wouldn’t help Zoe. And if it wouldn’t help Zoe, then what the fuck was the point?
Taking a very deliberate and calculated step towards her, I never let her break our eye contact. I needed her to stay with me. Stretching out my fingers, I watched as indecision flitted across her pained face.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears. Every breath felt like it was being ripped painfully from my body. And my heart, well, it was beating as if it had suddenly joined a rock band. Then it happened. Slowly. Painfully slowly. Zoe reached out and dropped the bloodied blade on my palm before breaking our gaze and breaking down.
Throwing the blade in the sink, I knew it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Zoe. Sinking to my knees, I reached out for her, and before I had a chance to drop my ass on the tiles, she was in my lap, shivering and sobbing.
“It’ll be okay, Princess. We’ll get through this. Together,” I cooed against her cheek.
I didn’t know if I was telling the truth or if I was lying through my teeth. I had no fucking clue what I was doing or how the fuck I was going to fix this, but I was going to. I may have failed Zoe before, but it sure as shit wouldn’t happen again. As I stroked her hair, she sobbed against my chest, soaking my shirt. I risked a look at her still exposed legs. They were a fucking mess. The scars and scratches stopped about two inches above her knee. She didn’t want anyone to see them. Some were still new. Raw, red, and angry. Others had scabbed over, but they couldn’t have been more than a week old. They hurt. But what fucking destroyed me was the fine, white lines that criss-crossed her creamy thighs. They were older. They’d had time to heal and fade. This had been going on for a long time. Too fucking long.
I don’t know how long I sat there holding her, but when the sobbing stopped and was replaced by soft snores, somehow, I managed to stumble to my feet, Zoe still in my arms. I carried her to her bed. Looking down at the sheets, the nausea I’d been battling when I’d first entered her room came back with a vengeance. Her once white sheets were a grey colour with tiny red dots all over them. She couldn’t sleep in that squalor. She shouldn’t have to. Changing my mind, I carried her into my room and placed her on my own bed. Carefully I pulled up her pants before covering her with a soft blanket. As I made my way out of the room, I heard her mumbling. It was an incoherent babbling mess. All of it. Except Spencer’s name. It was another kick in the guts. One I didn’t need. I didn’t need reminders that I wasn’t him. Every day I was reminded. Every time she looked at me. Every time I looked at me. He wasn’t coming back. Now we had to figure out a way to move on. To get past the hurt and start to live again. Leaving the door cracked open a fraction, I stepped out of my room on a mission.
I’d just cracked the cap off a much-deserved icy cold beer when a piercing shriek shook the windows.
“What the fuck?” I grumbled as the froth overflowed and splattered my shirt.
Dropping the bottle on the coffee table, I vaulted over the lounge and was in my room in seconds. Zoe looked freaked. I’d only seen her like this once before. I’d prayed that day I’d never see it again, but there it was. Unmistakable terror.
“Zoe! Zoe, it’s me. Derek. You’re safe. You’re okay. You were sick, so I put you in my bed. That’s all,” I explained clearly as I stepped through the doorway, holding my hands up in surrender.
I needed her to know I wasn’t a threat. She needed to believe it. Not because I was pissed that she thought I could be, but because it fucking killed me that anyone would ever have to think that a guy was a threat. As a cop, I’d seen it too many times. It was a sight you never forget. No matter how much you wanted to.
“D…D…Derek?”
I’m not going to lie, the moment my name fell from her lips I thought I
won the fucking lottery. She knew who I was. She was still there. It’d taken a moment, but once she’d brushed away the sleep fog, she knew.
“Yeah, Zoe, it’s me. How you feeling?” I asked, taking a deliberate step towards her. Her eyes widened but she didn’t flinch. This time.
I wasn’t nervous. I was absolutely shitting myself.
“I’m…I’m just so tired, Derek.”
The tears were back. Balancing on her eyelashes. Before reason could kick in or I had a moment to consider the consequences, I was on the bed beside her, wrapping her in my arms, and placing a kiss against her temple.
“I know, Princess. I know. Before you go back to sleep though, we need to talk.” I heard the words come out of my mouth and couldn’t believe how much of a pussy I sounded like. What self-respecting guy ever started a conversation with the words ‘we need to talk’?
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. I don’t need you to be sorry and I don’t need your apologies, Zoe. I need you to talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I…I…don’t know. Everything is just…just so much. And Spencer’s gone. And I miss him. Fuck, Derek, I miss him so much. And I feel stupid…”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you feel stupid?”
Zoe looked up at me with watery eyes. She tried to pull away but I didn’t let her go. She didn’t try very hard. If she really had wanted out of my arms, I never would have stopped her. But right now, for this particular conversation, she needed to be right where she was. Safe in the cocoon of my arms.
“’Cause I miss him so much, and I have no right to. I mean, we weren’t even together. Not really. We’d only just started reconnecting again after so long. I shouldn’t…”
“Zoe.” I tilted her chin up with my finger so she was looking straight in my eyes. This wasn’t how I’d planned it, but something told me now was the right moment. Jenna had told me I’d know the right time when it hit me and I hadn’t believed her. I hated when she was right. “Go open the top right drawer of my dresser.”