Beautiful Deception

I take a seat on one of the chairs, as far away from Brian as possible without being overly obvious. He notices though and smirks at me out of the corner of his eye. I ignore him and turn to the screen. Someone's been shot. There's blood pulsing from their chest as someone holds a bloody hand to the wound, trying to stop the inevitable. I shudder and avert my eyes to the ground. Blood really disturbs me, it makes me sick. But, can you blame me? Laying in a pool of your own blood on a cold basement floor makes you less appreciative of the life dependent substance.

"You scared of a little blood, love?" Brian asks. I glance over at him warily. He's picking peppers off of his pizza and watching me curiously yet his eyes sparkle in amusement.

"Not my most favorite thing," I say curtly.

"Your not much of a talker are you." It's not a question, he's confidently stating a fact.

"I've had some bad experiences in the past," I reply. Bad is technically an understatement.

"Like what?" Brian asks. He's trying to probe into my mind and see what's wrong with me. A possible leverage to torment me with later. Thought I'm not really sure Brian's that kind of guy. But then again, you never know a person's true colors. Not until you're vulnerable enough to be attacked.

"Like stuff I'd rather not talk about with someone I don't know," I snap back. I didn't mean to sound so harsh, but I got on the defensive side when it came to my past. My past? It seems as if I'm talking about something from long ago when it's only been a few days. But, I guess making it seem further away makes the experience less real.

Brian only scoffs at my attitude. "Oh, feisty," he says. I resist the urge to punch him. "I'm sure your little girl problems are nothing too serious."

That really hit home for me, cut me so far deep. It caused me to think about everything that happened this past week, wishing they were[/ii] little girl problems. Brian's comment forced me to reopen the old wounds that what Jack did to me had made. I wanted to scream at Brian. I wanted to count aloud each thing that Jack had done to me- kidnapping me, chaining me to walls, nearly shooting me, murdering my new found friend, raping me. I wanted to make Brian understand. Maybe he'd leave me alone then.

"You don't know anything about me," I growl at him, surprised at how hostile and dangerous my voice sounds.

"I know that you're a teen runaway," Brian says arrogantly. "What, mommy and daddy didn't understand you?"

He uses a voice that adults use when talking to seriously messed up kids. I know what he's doing. He's trying to get me worked up, trying to make me so mad that I'll just spill everything out to him. And, I hate to say it, but it's working.

"I wish it were that easy," I hiss my fists now grasping the couch. They're the only things holding me back from launching myself at him.

Brian surprises me by standing up and coming over to me. I shrink back into the cushion of the chair as he kneels in front of me. He rolls his eyes and reaches out to touch my skin. I flinch as his fingers, cool from holding the previously iced bottle of beer, touch my cheek. Not only because of how cold they are, but because he's touching me.

Brian pulls away and raises his eyebrows. "Afraid of a little human contact?" He inquires with a small smirk. I try to glare daggers at him, but I can feel my inner defense slowly slipping away. I'm slowly breaking down with emotions inside. Brian's persual is making all the memories I've tried so hard to bury resurface. I'm not sure how long I can keep up my calm facade.

"You don't know what human contact can do to a person," I inform Brian angrily.

A flicker of shock moves through Brian's face. I'm sure he hadn't seen that coming. But, just as quick as the shock came, it left. He stands up and backs away from me, staring at me intently. I look everywhere but him. I hate being looked at. Especially when you know the person is thinking... about you. And, you have no idea what's going on in their head.

Finally Brian speaks. It's a good thing too because the silence was deafening. "Exactly who are you running from, love?" He asks smoothly. His question makes me wish that he had never opened his mouth. All his questions make me wish that actually. They are stuff that are not on a need-to-know basis. Questions that I, myself, don't even want to know the answers to.

I stare at him blankly, letting him know that he's stupid for even expecting an answer. Brian sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. My lack of cooperation during his interrogation is finally getting to him.

Instead of letting it go, Brian begins to pace around the chair I'm sitting in. I fold into my self, bringing my knees up to wrap my arms around them. I watch him cautiously as he moves. One sudden movement from him and I'm gone.

"You know, you're making such simple questions so difficult," he tells me.

"Maybe it's not the questions that are difficult, but the answers. Did you ever think about that?" This time he chuckles. "I'm glad I amuse you," I mutter to myself.

Brian comes back to stand in front of me and tilts his head to the side. He's scrutinizing my face. I notice his eyes drop down below my neck line, before they snap back up to stare into mine. I grimace. Why must all guys be the same?

"You're a cute kid, but such a bitch," Brian comments simply. I don't really know what to think about that so I just gape at him.

"Excuse me?" I demand.

Brian only shrugs. "I don't know, aren't fourteen year old girls supposed to be sweet, innocent, and virginal and shit like that?" Brian inquires.

I tense at the last option he gives. "The lucky ones," I mumble.

"Oh, I see," Brian says smugly like he's just pieced together the puzzle of my life. He crouches back down in front of me and locks me into place on my seat with his arms on either side of me. "Are you missing something, Riley?" The suggestive look that he gives me as well as the way his gaze briefly flickers down past my waist gives me a hint to what he's refering.

"Fuck off!" I try and yell, but it comes out as more of a whisper that nearly cracks at the end. Brian only smirks, proud of himself that he's hit a nerve.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he says disapprovingly. "What would Nick say when he finds out that the girl he's supposedly head over heels in love with has been tainted by another man? And, at such a young age too?" He shakes his head scornfully. I hate how what he said makes me feel. Like I've done something wrong, and it's all my fault

"You don't know Nick," I say defensively. "Besides, he already knows."

"Oh, does he now? And, he's okay with it?"

"Nick understands everything I've been through. Better than anyone."

"Is that why he ran away with you, because he 'understands' you?" Brian counters. I can tell that he's mocking me by the way he uses air quotes. Why must I always be the one to be made fun of?

"That's exactly why," I say confidently. Brian only grins at me before getting up to leave. I let out a much needed breath of relief that I didn't know I'd been holding in. But, unfortunately, instead of leaving, Brian returns back to his spot. He reaches behind the couch and pulls out a new bottle of beer. I watch skeptically as he effortlessly pops off the cap. When I think he's about to take a sip, he holds the bottle out in my direction.

"Wha...-" Does he notice that he's offering alcohol to a minor or is he just ignorant enough not to care?

"Here, love, I think that after all of that, you'll need this."