Runaway
Author: Lacey Raine

Chapter 11
Jonah

 I lay and stared at the ceiling. I hadn't had new clothes in over three years. It felt weird- but good weird. Like when you get a haircut, and see yourself in the mirror. Not that we had many mirrors at the flat, Blain and I. He'd cut my hair once every six months. He wouldn't let me do his- he didn't trust me. I found myself wondering what Blain would be doing right now. Getting drunk, that was a given. Getting mad that I'd left. Taking it out on Cory and Byron, most likely. Fighting with randomers. He'd probably cry too.

Blain was by far the hardest guy I knew. I was terrified of him- but I'd often seen him cry. He cried when his mum died (obviously), and when he found out his dad had dementure. He cried when his sister moved out of the country and said she never wanted to see any of the family again. He cried the time he got beat up by two big burly guys. Every one of these times, I'd been the one to put my arms around him and kiss his forehead and tell him it would all be okay. I'd been the one to comfort him, to be sweet to him, to watch over him while he slept in case he woke up and got upset. I'd been there for him when he needed someone - and he'd never done the same for me.

I found myself getting angry about Blain, the way he'd treated me, the way he'd acted. He'd never seen me as an actual person, as a human being with a heart and a brain and a liver and feelings. I was just like a stupid little kid's toy, something he could pass round his mates with no regard for what effect it would have on me. I was twelve when he took my virginity, and just less than thirteen when he had me sleeping with another man. It was always in the worst possible places where I slept with the other guys; over workshop benches, in the backseat of an old car, in a bed with them, knowing their wife or girlfriend would be lying where I was, often in less than an hour. I felt like such a slut, such a whore when I did that. I was, primarly, making men cheat on their partners, though it wasn't my fault. I didn't have any choice in it. Blain had talked me into sleeping with him, stroked my hair and kissed me while whispering that he loved me. When I did it with his friend, he'd changed. I could still remember it, actually.

It'd been a week before I turned thirteen. I was sitting on the matress, strumming away on my guitar, when Blain walked in. At that point he was a fresh-faced eighteen year old with a boyish smile and a sunny laugh, rather than a sour twenty three year old with a leering smirk and a sarcastic chuckle. He'd sat beside me and kissed me. "Here, Jonah, baby, listen," He'd said, giving my hand a squeeze. "I was talking to my mate Davey before. I told him how good you are in bed. He said he wants a turn."

"What? Blain, no. I'm your boyfriend, aren't I? Why d'you want me to sleep with your friends," I'd been stupid enough to think he was asking.

"Yes. You're my boyfriend," He'd said, harshly. "Which means you do what I say. And I say you're gonna make Davey happy, okay?"

"But Blain, I..."

"No buts!" He'd pulled me up by my hair and pinned me against the wall. "Either you do what you're told to do, or I'm going to have to hurt you. Okay?"

"Yes," I'd nodded.

"Good boy," He'd leaned forwards and kissed me...

I shook the memory aside. I didn't want to think about Blain right now. Sure, he'd find me someday. But that might be months from now. I rolled onto my stomach, and let myself drift off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of the door creaking open. I sat up, blinking blearily at Luke. It was still dark outside. "Was I yelling again?" I asked, slightly embarrased.

"No, I just wanted to check you were okay," Luke sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm just off to bed myself. Are you okay?"

"I'll live," I said, kneeling beside him, with my hands under my knees. "Thanks, Luke. You... you're a good friend."

"And so are you," He hooked one arm around me and gave me a hug. I laughed as I almost fell off the bed, then put my own arms around him. I was pressed up to him pretty closely. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the strength of his arm around my shoulders. I could feel his heart beating with a steady dum-dum beat against his chest. It felt good. I looked at him- I hadn't noticed how good-looking he was before. His inky blue-black hair, his boyish smile, his tanned complexion and his brown eyes. Oh, those eyes! Almost black in colour, but still warm and inviting. He didn't seem to mind that I was watching him- he was staring straight back at me. He smiled slightly. I did too. Then, before we knew what we were doing, Luke and I were kissing.

 

 

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