Running From Lions

It had been a week since Makenna showed up at my door and she wasn’t looking much better. The swelling around her eye had gone down but the bruising was darker now and she still couldn’t open that eye up all the way. Aside from the physical trauma she had been through, emotionally she wasn’t okay either. She seemed much more comfortable around me, but she spent most of her days curled up in bed. At night when she thought I was asleep, I could hear her softly crying in the bedroom.

My heart was torn seeing Makenna like this. She was broken. My sweet, perfect, beautiful Makenna was absolutely broken. And I didn’t think she would ever be fixed.

I sat on the couch flipping through channels mindlessly until Makenna strolled out of the bedroom, coffee cup in hand. She was wearing a grey T-shirt of mine that was so long on her it fit like a dress. Her bare feet hit the tile of the kitchen floor and she went over to the sink, turning the faucet on for a few seconds to rinse the leftover coffee out of the ceramic mug. Right as she was setting down the empty cup in the sink a knock from the door rang through the apartment.

Makenna’s head whipped up to look at me and her eyes got wide. We weren’t expecting anyone right now. No food was ordered, it was too early for the delivery guy. It had only been seconds but I could see Makenna silently freaking out.

“Who is it?” I called, suddenly wishing I had a peephole on my door. Before anyone answered I nodded at Makenna to go hide as we had previously planned and picked up her shoes from the floor.

“It’s Pat,” I heard a familiar voice shout from the other side of the door.

I relaxed a little bit. At least it wasn’t Derek. I followed Makenna into the bedroom and waited as she slid open my closet door quietly. She tucked herself in and I threw her shoes on the ground next to her. “It’s okay,” I whispered, before closing the closet door between us.

“One second,” I called. I glanced around the bedroom one last time for anything that could be evidential of Makenna being here. It helped that she had minimal belongings with her; she didn’t even have a cell phone.

I went to the front door, unlocking it and swinging it open. Pat stood there, a look of concern on his face. “What’s up?” I asked.

Pat didn’t say anything, he brushed by me and let himself in, glancing around the living area quickly. He started making his way to the bedroom and I followed behind him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound confused. I knew why he was here though and what he was looking for. My heart was beating fast. I wasn’t sure what would happen if he found Makenna. She insisted that nobody know. ”Pat?”

He still didn’t say anything as he looked around the bedroom floor, probably trying to identify any of her clothing among mine. He pushed the bathroom door open and turned the light switch on.

“Pat?” I asked again, “What the hell is going on?”

He stepped towards the shower and pulled the curtain back, revealing an empty tub. My heart sank. He was clearly going to check everywhere.

He turned to me and sighed, brushing past me in the doorway again and back into the bedroom.

“Pat,” I said, “You can’t just come in here like this. We’re not even friends; we’re hardly even business partners.” My voice grew angry, demanding him to say something. I was just trying to distract him from checking the closet.

He stopped and turned back to me. “Why are there sheets on the couch?” He asked.

Fuck. I hadn’t even thought of the red flag my makeshift bed was. Instead of showing him any sign of guilt, I flashed him a confused expression. “Since when is it illegal to sleep on your couch?” I asked. “I told you guys I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” At least that was the truth. They knew I was suffering from severe insomnia due to the exhausted performances I had been giving lately.

Pat raised his hand to his head and rubbed his temple for a moment. He was worried, beyond worried. He dropped his hand and made back towards the front door. I felt relieved. It seemed like he would actually be leaving.

He stopped and turned back to me, “John,” Pat said, “I need you to be honest with me. Just once.”

“Okay?” I questioned.

“Have you talked to Makenna?” He wasn’t angry. His voice was hopeful, which threw me off. He was just looking for some sort of relief, some way of knowing for sure that she was okay.

I shook my head. “No,” I said, still playing confused. “Why would I have talked to her? You know we don’t talk.”

I felt bad for lying. Pat cared about Makenna just as much as I did. I so badly wanted to assure him that she was safe, for now. I realized why Makenna had come to me in the first place though, for this right here. For my ability to lie so well to the people I love. Makenna knows I can do it, because I’ve done it to her so many times. Something Pat would never have been able to do for her.

Pat sighed, “Never mind.” He went to turn again.

“Wait, Pat,” I stopped him. “Is she okay? What’s going on?” I asked, digging for any information they might have on what was going on. Was there any chance at all they knew what Derek had done to Makenna?

“Nothing,” Pat said, obviously not wanting me involved. “Just tell me if she contacts you.”

I watched Pat leave out the door and listened for his footsteps to make their way down the hallway. I went into the bedroom and slowly slid the closet door back open.

A tearful Makenna fell out into my arms and any sobbing she had been holding back to keep quiet came rushing out of her. Her body shook as I held her.

“Shh,” I whispered to her, trying to calm her down “It will be okay.”

I felt bad lying to Pat but I knew she must’ve felt ten times worse for it. Seeing how this was hurting her and knowing Pat was so concerned made me question why we were doing this at all. Pat would understand, her mom would understand. Getting the police involved would be the smartest thing to do. Still, Makenna was scared, and I couldn’t force her into anything she didn’t want.