Arranged Marriage to My Enemy? Holy Shit!

I'd managed to calm Ricky down and persuade him to take us back to the truck, but it had cost me dearly. But at the time, I'd said fuck it. It couldn't hurt that bad when you're about to screw up your entire person.

Well, I'd been wrong. It felt like my entire soul had been ripped out. Every molecule in my body had held a part of my soul, and it felt like every single atom had been shredded with a chain saw. If Ricky hadn't been in the truck with me, I would have been bawling. But I had to keep up this facade of being cool and collected.

While we had been walking back to the truck, I'd held his hand to comfort him. Sure, both of us knew that I was just using him to get me to Jack, but I knew that part of him pretended that it was real. That part of him pretended that everything had gone the way he'd imagined it. When he'd gotten out of prison, I'd ran happily in to his arms. I hadn't left and changed who I was entirely. I was still deluded and happy, and he was glad that I was still naive and controllable.

There was no doubt in my mind that Ricky had loved me, and there was no doubt in my mind that I had loved him. My mind kept trying to fantasize us being a normal couple back then. No gang, no running, no correcting things that the police should have been doing. None of that. Ricky could have still came to comfort me under the tree, but all of the other stuff wouldn't have happened. We'd lived happily until this moment in time. No arrests, no police, no jail, no visits. Nada.

Oh god, how I wanted that so badly. But just as badly as I wanted it, I knew it would never come true, or could never happen. The past was the past, and you can't change it. I've analyzed it as much as I would allow myself to, and have come up with the conclusion that thinking about it isn't going to make it go away, or change what happened, or make what happened any better.

The truth was the truth, and that was it. I didn't need to worry about what could of happened, only on what was going to happen.

So Ricky and I sat in the truck, holding hands. As I tried to get my hand out of his grasp, he'd snatched it back and had given me a look. The look had been only one of warning, but burning deep in his eyes I could see that he'd craved this his entire time in jail. No matter how much I wanted to deny it: Ricky had truly yearned to be with me while he was locked up. Sometimes I think that he'd been more in love with me back then then I'd been with him.

His hand holding mine, squeezing every once in awhile to make sure I was still there, was slowing down my progress of opening the box and combining my two selves. As I kept looking at myself, and the contents of the box, I was wondering what all of it really meant.

Had I locked my past away, or had I locked my old self away? Had I cleaned my slate, made it entirely blank, so that I could create a whole new me? As I pondered it more and more, I kept coming to the conclusion that that was what I had done. I'd scrapped my old self and created a new one to take its place.

Like, for example, my old self loved to color. She had loved to color pictures of dinosaurs, robots, flowers, anything. But me today, I hated coloring. For assignments in school I'd just taken my pencil and did everything in different shades of gray. Thinking back on it, I hadn't picked up a coloring utensil since I'd left K12. Which was ridiculous. Why didn't I like to color anymore? I could buy new crayons, color pencils, markers, oil pastels, coloring books, the whole nine yards.

Was it the fact that coloring held so many memories? I'd done the act hundreds of times, but all of those times had been with K12. Had I been avoiding coloring because I knew it would bring back countless memories? No doubt, those memories would have made me turn back. I'd left Rick and Julie, Jack, and everything that I had known behind to go back to K12, and Ricky.

I'd molded my new self to be someone that wouldn't be anything like my old self. If I did something that my old self had liked, then it would bring back memories of being with Ricky, with K12. And I'd tried so hard to leave behind that past, so why do something to dredge it up?

Which was precisely the reason opening the box and facing everything head on was so painful, so strenuous. Good god, I'd finally figured out the reason as to why it hurt so much. How could I have been so blind and stupid? I was smarter then this!

It didn't matter how smart I was, I realized. The urge to create a new life and get away from my old one had been so strong that I'd just thrown common sense and caution to the wind. I'd been in such a hurry, I'd been so afraid. I'd been so young, too. I couldn't blame myself for doing something so reckless and brainless. My young, brain washed mind had just been trying to get away from what I had discovered was a bad situation for me to be in.

And then it all flowed. My understanding of the entire ordeal made viewing the contents of the box that much easier. Memory upon memory, I embraced with a kiss and a hug, glad to see it, accepting it. I couldn't ignore my past forever, nor could I blame myself for acting the way I did. I had to view it for what it was and move on. As these things clicked in my head, I could feel myself changing. Not on the outside, but personality wise.

There was a moment, however, that I feared that this was the wrong thing to do. What if I turned back to the brain-washed girl I use to be? Wouldn't it be worse? Now that I was older, I had more emotions. I yearned for things that I hadn't even thought about when I'd been with Ricky. Was I going to turn in to some kind of Ricky crazed teenager?

No, I thought, shaking my head. I wasn't going to relapse and be my old self. I had to remember that I was combining the old with the new. There were some things that my new self wouldn't let my old self do. Once the two were completely merged, I'd be better. My mind would be able to work better and figure out what to do. Now that the deed was done, I needed to rest. Stressing out my mind wouldn't help me with my current mission, or the one up ahead.

Before I knew what was happening, I fell asleep.

**************

I woke up with a start, my eyes snapping open. Looking around, I realized I was laying down. I tried to sit up, but a hand restrained my from doing so. I slowed my beating heart and took another second to analyze where I was.

Ricky. Truck. Combination of two selves. Holding hands. Jack kidnapped. Arranged marriage to him.

Holy. Fuck.

"Well hello to you too Storm. Did you sleep well?" Ricky questioned, nothing but a smile on his face. He turned his attention back to the road.

Some how I felt. . . refreshed. I'd combined my two selves, yes. It had been a complete success. Ricky had his hand on my chest, just resting there, at the ready to push me back down if he realized I was going to try to sit up again. Before Combination Self would have been pissed that he was touching me, and would have thrashed and hurt him until he let me up. After Combination Self only cared that his hand was particularly on my breasts, and he was squeezing a tiny bit.

"How long have you been driving?" If Ricky was surprised at my question or my tone, he hid it well.

He glanced at me, but kept his eyes trained on the road. I knew that his attention was on me mostly though. I don't know how I knew that, but I just did. Was it my old self or my new self? Hell, it was probably both. I didn't know which was which anymore, since it was all one. There was no old or new about it, it was just me now.

"About two hours," He said. It shouldn't take us two hours to get where we needed to go, so he was probably taking the back roads so we weren't followed. Ricky knew that I knew the entire state and its roads like the back of my hand, so there was no reason trying to take a route that to throw me off.

I took my hand and set it on top of his. "Mind not squeezing them?" I couldn't believe my tone, or my gentleness on his hands. Part of me didn't want him to move his hand, but I knew that it was my hormones kicking in. Circumstances aside, Ricky was pretty hot. There was no doubt that he was one of the best looking guys I had ever laid eyes on. But his hand on my chest wasn't helping my cause.

Ricky tightened is hands, but stopped squeezing and just laid his hand there. I smiled at him. "Thank you."

Seconds turned in to minutes as Ricky kept driving down the highway, glancing at me every few seconds. "You're different," He stated cautiously, his hand on the wheel squirming. I shrugged. "Your eyes. . they have more of the tint that they use to have. You've changed while you were asleep, Storm, I know you have. What have you done?"

I examined the stubble in Ricky's face, his sharp features. For being fully Spanish, he had a very dominant and pronounced bone structure. Most Spanish guys don't have such pronounced features. "I..." I trailed off. Should I tell Ricky any of what I had done? Without hesitation, I knew that it would only take Ricky a meager few hours to realize what I had done. The question was simple: Should I tell Ricky something that he could figure out himself?

It would torture him, though, and I didn't want to do that. Personally, mission and everything else aside, I didn't know what I wanted. Boyfriend wise, friend wise, life wise, whatever, I just didn't know. But what I did know is that I didn't want things to be complicated or any worse than they already were.

I took a deep breath before I began to explain. "When I tell you this, I don't want you to freak out or interrupt me while I'm talking, alright? Can you at least do me that small favor?" He nodded, his eyes glancing down at me more often.

"Okay, well I had this box inside of me that held my past self in it. The person I'd become after leaving K12 was everything that the person in the box wasn't. The person in the box loved to color, and the person outside of the box absolutely loathed it, for example. I realized that it did me no good for it to be in that box. It wouldn't help me in life, with the people in it, this situation, nothing. So I just did what I had vowed not to do; I opened the box.

"Oh hell, it had been painful Ricky. I had wanted to sit here and cry my eyes out. And we both know how long it's been since I've cried. There was so much pain I felt combining the two, so much pain I felt from opening the box that I thought I couldn't go on. But, somehow, I'd managed to get through it.

"So now, I'm not someone completely different. I'm a combination of my old self and my new self. I finally feel like...me."

Minutes passed by without a word said. Ricky kept looking down at me with this awe in his eyes. Was he mad or happy that I'd done what I'd done? I waited, my nerves running on end. What was he going to say?

When he spoke, his voice seemed to be devoid of all emotion or feeling. Just blank. "I really don't know what to say Storm, I honestly don't. For once in my life. . . I'm truly speechless. Give me some more time to think, okay?"

I nodded my head. I knew right now Ricky was vulnerable. From his previous actions, even without emotion in his voice, I knew that Ricky truly didn't know what he thought about what I'd told him. Since I wasn't completely my old self, and I wasn't the person he'd first met after getting out of jail, he didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

For me, it was a good thing. But was my truly knew self to his advantage? Would my knew self make decisions that my old wouldn't even contemplate? Would Ricky treat me any differently because of who'd I'd become. A new fear awakened in me. Would he approve of my new personality?

Sure, I still had to rescue Jack and all that jazz, but did I have to get away from Ricky immediately after that? Did I ha-

The car jerked to a stop, and I looked up at Ricky to see what was going on. His hand grabbed my shirt and hauled me up. Instantly, I buckled my seat belt and assessed the situation before us. The police were stopping cars, shit.

"A road block," I muttered, seeing at least four squad cars. With the way they were walking, this wasn't a normal situation. What the hell had happened for them to act this way? I looked in to the trees on either side of us and spotted a few snipers.

Ricky glanced at me, and I could see fear. He was afraid that it was going to happen like it happened six years ago, when the police had stopped us and we'd fought. It threw a deep wrench in my gut. I didn't want to see him like this. Dammit, I wouldn't let these people make him feel this way.

We were far enough back that they could see what we were doing. "Switch spots with me," I told him, unbuckling my seat belt.

"Are you crazy? Sudden movement will cause the snipers to pay attention to us," He hissed, trying to look head. I reached over and unbuckled his seat belt, took him by his waist, and hauled him over to my side. He began to scoot back over, and started to scold me for it. "What the hell are you doing? Just sit back down a-"

I did the only thing that I thought would make him stop everything that he was doing.

I kissed him.