The Runaway Boy

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

THE RAIN hadn't stopped pelting down against the windscreen, nor did the irrational fear that the car that had been driving at a distance behind Tommy for the last few hours was his brother trailing him. Relief only fixed through him when he saw the car take one of the exits to another town. Tommy did as Ben said and kept driving through the night, he didn't slow because of the rain but kept to his course, though he couldn't swallow the sick feeling that all of this was another pointless pursuit for a few months of some sort of safety. His brother would eventually track him, would eventually run him out of the town.

Though Tommy had never hidden in such a secluded town before, he had never thought that a small town was his safest bet. There were only ever so many places to hide, unlike a big city where he could sleep among the homeless or jump between dodgy motels. A small town like Winchester would either become a Haven or a prison. The location would, for the most part, be off of Jonathan's grid, up until now he had been chasing Tommy through the larger cities, there would be no reason for Tommy to hide out in a place like this and for that, he had an advantage over his brother. Winchester was practically unheard of, Ben's father brought the house to cover up the affair he was having with his mistress and would lend it to Ben over the Summer, though the house had been for the most part uninhabited after Ben found out the real reason for it.

Winchester was a small coastal town with miles of dense woodland to its sides and backs, to its front was the sea. If you didn't know Winchester existed, it would be easy to pass it without realizing a town even remained there. Some homes were owned as holiday getaways in the Summer, the beach and the mountains made for a scenic holiday of swimming, sunbathing, and hiking. Other than that, Winchester's small permanent population seemed to be relatively harmless, according to Ben. Most of the men worked at a mine a few miles west of town, and the small cafes, diners, and shops kept the rest busy. Tommy had stolen enough money from the family fund to keep him comfortable that he didn't need to get a job, but maybe he'd find the mechanics workshop in the town and offer a helping hand if they would let him. It had been a long time since he had been in a shop, maybe if he could stay in Winchester for a while, it would be okay at least to get his hands on some motors instead of secluding himself behind the walls of Ben's summer home.

Tommy didn't like the feeling of optimism, it was a stupid thing for someone like him — in the situation that he was in to feel any sort of hope for a future that he knew he couldn't have. As far as he was concerned, he was nothing. Tommy would always be nothing. Though as he drove past the town sign that read WELCOME TO WINCHESTER, Township in 5km. — He welcomed in a relieved sigh, the air which carried into his lungs almost hurt as if he had been holding his breath for the entire 13-hour drive. He didn't know how he managed to drive for those hours — only stopping once for a bathroom break, without falling asleep behind the wheel. Tommy brought it down to fear of being caught again, that adrenaline heated his bloodstream enough to keep him actively awake and alert for the whole way.

As he continued along the road, he noticed a girl walking backward with her thumb extended to the road, Tommy chuffed in disbelief. He doubted that many cars came this way very often, maybe the miners but he highly doubted any of them would be leaving the mines at 1:30 pm. Tommy didn't really want to stop, natural instinct told him to floor it past her and act like he didn't see the girl who was drenched from the rain, bravely trying to hitchhike to her destination. Tommy sighed all to dramatically and slowed his truck down just ahead of her, locking the doors and rolling down the passenger side window enough so that she could see him and he could see her. He watched her jog up to the car through the rearview mirror.

"Are you alright? Do you need a ride somewhere?" Tommy called through the window, talking just loud enough that his voice wasn't muffled by the rain that was now getting slightly heavier.

"Heading into Winchester?" She asked back, obviously cautious. Tommy didn't like the idea of inviting a stranger into his car either, but he forced himself to snuff down the unease that twisted in his stomach.

"Yeah, I get if you don't want a ride, but the rain is—," the girl didn't let Tommy finish.

"It's fine, but if you try to kill me on the way just know that I know self-defence and I'll put an end to that real quick," She warned, a smirk playing across her bluish lips. Tommy returned that with a hint of a smile and unlocked the doors for her to jump in. He leaned over to the backseat and grabbed one of his towels, handing it over to her.

"Don't worry, I'm not really in the murdering mood today," Tommy exclaimed as he pulled back onto the road. The girl chuckled as she ran the towel through her long and tangled Mousey brown hair.

"Good because I'm not really in the ball-kicking mood today," she teased back, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief when Tommy blasted the heat up in the car for her.

"So what brings you all the way out here then?" She asks, leaning her chin against her knee that she has propped up on the seat. She couldn't have been much older than Tommy, maybe even the same age and she was definitely a pretty girl. Her hazel eyes were exceptionally captivating under her long lashes. Her skin was a sun-kissed olive tone despite it being the middle of Autumn, and she had a soft flicker of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"Change of scenery for a while, I'm staying at my friend Ben's beach house. Can I ask why you are all the way out here in the rain by yourself?" Tommy changed the subject as soon as he could, hardly wanting to dwell on why he was here precisely. Tommy was a good liar, and he trusted himself to come up with a good enough back story for the reason he was in Winchester, but sticking on the subject meant more opportunity for him to accidentally slip up.

"My idiotic brother and his idiotic best friend made a bet with me that I couldn't make it from the mines back home by 4. Jokes on them because I'm about to pocket $200 thanks to you," She grinned mischievously, Tommy couldn't help but think that beneath that grin was a tornado ready to plough through the whole town of Winchester, that everyone that lived there must know this girls name despite how small the town is. He thought that even if she lived elsewhere, people would know of her based purely on her wit.

"I'm glad to be of some assistance," Tommy answered, tapping his thumb against the wheel in tune to the beat of the radio.

"Do you have a name?"

"Tomas Wilson, I go by Tommy though."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Tommy, I'm Sasha Hartford, if there is anything I can do to repay you for the kind rescue, let me know," she said with a confidence that Tommy only wished he could muster. He'd grown up in the shadow of his brother. In the shadow of an empire that was never meant for him. He wished he could have the ease and blissful naivety of someone like Sasha. He could tell that she didn't grow up in her brother's shadow, more like she grew up equal to him, something that made Tommy's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Actually, I need to get the keys to the house from someone named Howard Steer, do you know where I could find him?" Tommy takes her up on her offer, he'd rather not talk to any more of the townspeople than necessary today. Sasha groaned in annoyance as if Tommy had just asked the most condescending question of her.

"Oh that old dingbat, yeah he'll actually be at the shop where the two idiots are working, if you drop me off there I can claim my $200 bucks and you can get the keys, two birds with one stone right?" Tommy glanced over to make sure she wasn't snorting pure caffeine powder in his passenger seat. How someone could have so much energy when they were obviously freezing and had just been walking through the rain was beyond him, but he decided not to question it further.

"Right."

They continued idle chitchat for the rest of the short drive into town, Tommy let Sasha do most of the talking. She talked about the town, the people, herself, her family. Tommy didn't mind that the silence was filled with her voice, she filled in the gaps that Ben left bare about the town. Tommy found out that she had just recently turned 20 years old last month, making her a year older than he was, that she had two brothers, one was her twin named Harry and the other was only a year older than her named Mason. It was Mason and his best friend Nicky who made a bet with her, and who was about to lose a nice amount of cash. Her brothers which Tommy came to realize included Nicky too—all worked with Howard Steer at his mechanics shop. Tommy instantly decided that he wouldn't apply for a position there, he didn't like hanging around with people his age, nor did he think he could tolerate it for very long.

Her mother owned the local diner on Main Street, and Sasha worked there in the first half of the week and worked at the library for the other half. She never mentioned her father, which Tommy took as him being a deadbeat runaway or just dead. Sasha asked him the odd question that he filled in vaguely with lies. She asked him where he was originally from, and he said Seattle. She wondered why he was moving out to somewhere like Winchester when he was only nineteen and could be going to college, he said that his parents were going through a rough divorce and he didn't quite know what career path he wanted to go into. She didn't probe too much. For that, he was thankful.

They pulled up to the mechanic's shop that sat just off the roundabout to the town's main road of shops. The rain had cleared, but the sky above was still clouded over with a grey haze, the air heavy and muggy with moisture that stuck uncomfortably to Tommy's skin. He followed Sasha into the shop and waited idly at the front counter as she repeatedly smacked her hand against the bell on the front desk most likely trying to summon her brother from whatever motor he was tangled with.

"Okay! Okay! Jesus Sash we get it," A voice called from the open garage door.

Moments later three men appeared, covered in grease and all sporting red mechanics work shirts, their names embroidered in the white oval patches below their left collarbones. They all stopped and stared at Tommy as if Sasha had yet again found a stray tomcat, one that they weren't sure whether it would piss over everything they owned or scratch them to bits as soon as they tried to get close. Tommy instantly noticed the brother who's embroidered name was Mason, he looked a lot like Sasha and her twin brother. Just over six feet tall and built with lean muscle as were the others. He had a beautifully handsome face, rugged but clean-shaven, his golden hazel eyes were not nearly as relaxed as Sasha's were, but he still had the same sun-kissed skin and mousey brown hair as his siblings. But unlike the other two men who stood with him — he did not smile politely. Instead, he eyed Tommy like he knew he was a threat like he could see every scar on his marred chest through his hoodie. It made Tommy itch to flee, to get back in his truck and drive as far away from this place as he could get.

"Looks like Sasha made a friend, where did she pick you up? The pound?" Nicky teased, Tommy instantly dragged his eyes from Mason to the best friend Sasha had talked about. Nicky was just a bit shorter than Mason, he had that same mischievous grin that Tommy realized both twins had, though Nicky stood out as the apparent outlier, being that his hair was jet-black and his eyes an emerald green. He was Japanese — Tommy realized because of the Japanese script tattooed on his forearm.

"Something like that," Tommy exclaimed back, forcing his gaze anywhere but Mason who still stood, leaning against the garage doorframe, slightly behind the other two boys. Tommy clutched nervously at the strap of his duffle bag and forced his expression into a neutral gaze.

"Lucky you, though don't feel special, my sister has a knack for picking up strays," The twin, Harry, grinned stupidly, as if trying to egg the neutrality and practised apathy out of Tommy.

"Jesus, would you guys at least pretend not to be assholes, Tommy here is looking for the old man," Sasha cut in, thankfully, though Tommy couldn't entirely hide his flinch when Sasha clapped him on the shoulder. Whether she or the others noticed it too — they made quick succession in acting as if they didn't notice it at all. Tommy didn't like it. It instantly told him that they were aware of what trauma looks like, and even if for the most part he was good at hiding his, they had been around it enough to act as though they didn't notice his flinch at her touch. Though the way her hand halted just above his shoulder right before she was going to clap down again told him that she was all too aware of the effect her touch had.

"Who are you calling old man?" Howard Steer rounded the corner, rubbing grease from his fingers onto a cloth.

He froze next to Mason when he saw Tommy and Tommy instantly catalogued every exit around him. He knew this man. And this man was not named Howard Steer. Tommy had to swallow down the bile that quickly rose up in his throat, burning a path right through his body. He wanted to look away, wanted more than anything to run directly from this shop and to keep running so that he never had to see his face again. But it was too late, and he couldn't stop his hands from trembling or the shake in his breath. This man was a name on the list that Jules had given him, but he had crossed that name out long ago because he was rumoured to be dead, he disappeared without a trace. Yet here he is. Standing right in front of Tommy. Very much alive. Very much breathing. Ben must've known this, but why not just tell Tommy that his presumably dead uncle was all the way out here in the first place, why trick him like this?

"What the f**k have you done?" Howard Steer, or better known to Tommy as Christian Sinclair spoke in such a low and threatening tone that it even had the others around them cowering slightly, looking between the two in utter confusion.

"Tomas you better have a good explanation for your blatant stupidity, or I swear to god I'll—" His uncle started, but Tommy had to cut him off before he could continue.

"Ben didn't tell me it was you. I wouldn't have come if I had known, I'll go," Tommy got the words out, but barely, he couldn't do this, he couldn't bear it. He turned and started for the door, hardly reaching the handle before a hand clasped hard against his shoulder.

"Get back to work there is nothing to see here," Christian directed obviously at the others who were still hanging around the front reception room, "And you, follow me to my office now, you are not running," his order sounded as authoritative and un-negotiable as his father used to sound.

Tommy took a deep breath, his hand still clasped tightly to his bag strap as he turned on his heels and followed his uncle through the shop and into the small office tucked at the other end of the garage. Tommy ignored the looks the others sent him but followed the man who had seemingly come back from the dead. Ben must've known this. This was no coincidence, and he would be a naive i***t to believe that. Tommy didn't like being lied too, he hated, even more, being deceived into an impromptu meeting with his supposedly dead uncle that he hadn't seen in 5 years. He doubted that he could also find a fleck of comfort in seeing that his uncle was just as surprised to see him as he was. Tommy stepped through into the office after his uncle and anxiously waited for the tension to settle. News flash—that wasn't possible nor did he think it would ever end.

"You ran, didn't you? Did I not tell you to stay put!" Christian's voice was instantly raised, his frustration tearing apart what little composure that Tommy had been clinging to for the past two years.

"I couldn't," Tommy managed, his body turning rigid and stiff as his uncle paced back in forth from behind his desk.

"You couldn't?" His uncle bit back viciously. "How long have you been on the run for? How long has your father been forced to hunt you down?" this time, his tone was low as if he didn't want his employees to overhear. But it was more of what his uncle said that grasped Tommy's attention instead of the way he said it.

"Father died almost three years ago, Jonathan inherited," something crossed Christian's expression at Tommy's words, and it wasn't grief, nor was it the relief of his brother's demise. Like Tommy, Christian fled the business, but he had struck a deal with his father and in exchange wasn't hunted down. Jonathan had always spoken of finding his uncle and tying up that loose end before the rumour spread of his death, after that he didn't seem to bother with finding him, or had any real indication of where to start looking.

"And you still ran? Your brother was never as bad as your father was, what did you possibly have to run from?" Tommy flinched at the accusation, the scars suddenly feeling as though they are aching under the fabric of his shirt and hoodie. His uncle had no idea of the severity of Jonathan's torture, how his brain worked in cruel ways. How one wrong move even in the slightest of defiance's caused unimaginable pain. Day after day.

"How would you have any idea what my brother was capable of? You left. You were the only person who I thought actually gave a s**t about what happened to me, and you just ended up leaving me with them. So don't you dare f*****g stand there and tell me how stupid I was for running, I didn't have a choice," Tommy seethed through his clenched teeth, anger pounded hard against his temples as he stared back at his uncle who now looked more exhausted than anything. He leans forward, pressing his hands flat against the desktop, staring across at his Nephew as if he still doesn't make any sense.

"I did give a s**t about what happened to you, I cared for you like you were my own kid Tommy. That is why I told you to stay no matter how bad it got, because now look at where you are, running to no end, you could be killed for this. Whatever life you would've had back there has got to be better than this, Jonathan could still take you back," Tommy actually laughed at that. He felt like he would throw up because of how it sounded, how his laugh sounded so much like his brother's sadistic one that it almost threw him right back into the depths of his trauma.

"I would be dead," Tommy spat, shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that his uncle was the one calling him stupid. He didn't reply to that but gave Tommy a look that told him to elaborate.

"You know I tried running four times before I finally got away. Each time he did something to me, to try to scare me out of doing it again. Sometimes he would do it himself, sometimes he would get others to do it. It would go on for hours until I was barely clinging to life. And afterwards, he would leave me bleeding and alone. The worst thing is I would always wake up a couple of days later, stitched up and breathing. This is why you don't know s**t," Tommy exclaimed, pulling his hoodie and shirt off in one swift move, revealing the damage.

He didn't look down at himself, he didn't need too, he already knew every inch of his mauled up the chest and his cut-up arms. Severe lacerations, burn marks, scarring that would never go away decorated him like some sort of sick idea of a Christmas tree. He let his uncle get his look, it was the only other person apart from the people who inflicted the wounds to ever see the damage left behind by it. His uncle seemed surprisingly calm though there was a fire in his eyes that ignited, threatening to light the sea of oil on fire around them. He pulled his shirt and hoodie back over his head when his uncle looked away from the mess of his body.

"We figure this out together then, I won't fail you again," His uncle finally spoke after a long stretch of silence. It was words that Tommy hadn't realized he had been wanting or needing to hear since his uncle left 5 years ago, but regardless — he sat down in the seat opposite the desk and waited for the game plan.