Page 18 of Puck Blocked
“When you were in ninth grade and that kid—shit, what was his name…? Hunter Something-or-Other asked you to prom, I threatened to break his knees if he didn’t dump you,” I admit aloud for the first time to anyone.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to take you myself.” I shrug.
“And I refused to go because I was humiliated after being dumped.” She sighs.
Montana fell asleep inside the fort about an hour ago. I picked up the uneaten food and threw it away before I grabbed a beer from the fridge. I had a shit-ton of messages from the guys that I needed to reply to.
Now, I’m sitting on the back porch, wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to help this girl, and what I’m going to do when I have to travel out of town next week. I can’t leave Montana here alone. Especially knowing some psycho is out there looking for her. Or will be.
I decide to send Aliyah a message.
Me:
We have an away game next week. Any chance you can find an excuse to stay at my place? I don’t want to leave Montana here alone.
She responds right away.
Lia:
Of course. I’ll be there.
Me:
Thank you.
The back door slides open and I pocket my phone when Montana fills the space.
“Hey, you fell asleep,” I state the obvious.
“You should have woken me up.” She takes a step forward and rubs at her arms. “It’s freezing out here. Why are you outside?”
“It’s not that cold.” I laugh. But stand up, take her hand, and walk into the house before closing the door behind us. “It’s time to eat. What do you feel like having?”
“I’m really not that hungry.”
“Okay, well, I’m eating, and you’re helping me.” I lead Montana into the kitchen and sit her on one of the stools. “Watch. I think you’ll be amazed by my culinary skills.”
Chapter Nine
Iwake to an empty bed. It’s been the same every day since coming here. I always start off sleeping in the guest room. Then I have a nightmare, and Luke picks me up and puts me in his bed. Where I fall back asleep holding his hand.
He’s always gone in the morning. He has hockey practice every day. He’s played two home games too. I didn’t go to either, but I have watched him on the huge screen that he has mounted on the wall in the living room. The Knights won both times. I expected Luke to be out celebrating with his teammates, but he surprised me by coming home. Claiming that he’d rather celebrate with me than anyone else.
I don’t know how to take his attention at times. I have, however, managed to fall into somewhat of a routine over the last week. As soon as he’s finished practice in the mornings, he’s here with me. We’ve talked a lot, he’s cooked a lot, and I’ve tried to pretend like I’m fine. I want to be fine. But, on the inside, the truth is I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m constantly on edge. That feeling of being in the calm before the storm is strong. I don’t want to be a doomsayer, but it’s hard not to be.
When I walk around this massive house, I wonder why he has such a big place when it’s only him who lives here. And how he keeps it so tidy, I have no idea. I’m guessing he has cleaners, but I’ve never seen any.
After a few more minutes of thinking about things, I finally get up and head straight for the bathroom before beginning my routine of showering, dressing, and making both beds. I look at myself in the mirror, inspecting my now yellowing bruises. I wish I had some makeup, but I don’t want to ask Luke to get it for me. He’s already spent so much money on buying me clothes.
I don’t really know what’s happening between Luke and me. If anything is happening at all. I feel like I’m getting very mixed signals from him. Other than holding my hand and telling me that he loves me, he hasn’t tried anything else. Which I’m grateful for, because I honestly don’t think I’m ready. I know I’m not going back to Andrew. What I don’t know is where I’m going to go or what I’m going to do… I just need some time to formulate a plan. I need to disappear. Become someone new, so he can’t ever find me. Because I know he will look, and I don’t think he’ll leave me alive when he does.
I caved yesterday and told Luke I’d talk to someone, a professional, in hopes that they can help with the nightmares. I don’t know what talking about my problems will achieve, but Luke seems to think it’s a great idea. He’s arranging to have someone come to the house, so I don’t need to leave. I’m not ready to face the public, especially when I still look like I went ten rounds with Rocky.
After I brush my hair and tie it up into a messy bun on top of my head, I make my way downstairs, grab the plate of fruit out of the fridge that Luke leaves me every morning, and go to the theater room. I switch on the Bravo channel and mindlessly watch reality TV. I don’t know what else to do to pass the time.
Before I know it, Luke is falling into the seat next to me. “Hey.”
