If Only

You are my murderer / I'm on fire behind you Kasabian

-

I met William Beckett by accident.

I was alone, with no money, no place to stay, in a new city that I was unfamiliar with. I had left the confines of my brother's safety, left his rules. His friends. My friends.

I should have gone back. I had that feeling, the one that usually directs you in the right way, that this was not the place for me. That I shouldn't be there. But I ignored it.

So, I was walking down one of the cold streets in Chicago, in October, at night. I was shivering. I was lost. I was alone. I wasn't paying attention.

I was looking at the sidewalk, when I slammed right into a body. I almost fell over, but the person's arms steadied me. I looked up, and there he was. William Beckett. All soft brown hair and chocolate eyes.

"Are you okay, darling?" he asked, his grip on my arms tightening when I tried to pull away. I'd heard stories about him.

"Fine, thanks," I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

His breath on my face was cold when he whispered, "I don't think you are."

-

He locked me in a room. I lost track of time. I could have been in there for months, or days. Every once in a while someone came with a tray of bread, but that was hardly ever. And I rarely slept, mostly out of fear that I would wake up to being tortured.

I knew what he was trying to do. He was wearing me down, not feeding me, keeping me in the dark with no place to escape. No windows. One locked door. My nerves were ready to explode and I was ready to die.

-

I couldn't tell you when, but one night, a fire was spreading in the room.

The part of my brain that told me to run, to get out of there, was blank.

The door was locked, and I was starving. The bread wasn't filling. I was tired, exhausted even. I was still William's prisoner. I was run down, and I couldn't think straight.

I didn't move from the corner.

I didn't even move when the door swung open, and William walked in.

The fire was getting worse. The flames got larger by the second. I was no longer cold, but burning. The air was getting thick and heavy. The smoke was sickening. My eyes burned. I couldn't breathe.

But when William called out, I choked a reply.

"Leah," William cooed when he reached me. His soft hands cupped my cheeks. "Leah, we have to get out of here."

So, he picked me up like grooms do with their brides, and we left.

-

I was slipping in and out of consciousness.

The next time I woke up, William was speaking with another man. I didn’t open my eyes, I didn’t move. I just stayed limp in his arms.

“We don’t owe you anything, Beckett.”

“You could do us a favor, Travie. The Hunters just burnt down our Manor,” William said. His voice was rough, and he sounded tired. “We’d be in debt to you then.”

There was a silence that followed, but it was cut short when the other man said, “Who is she?”

William pulled me closer to him. “An experiment, Travis. Nothing that concerns you.”

“You’re bringing her to my house. It does concern me. Especially since she’s human.”

It was hard to keep up with the conversation after that. Another, gentler, voice joined in. They were bickering, growling. I felt myself falling asleep again.

“You can stay three weeks, William,” the first voice said. “That’s it.”

I didn’t catch William’s response.