**
"And I don't know if I've ever been really loved,
By a hand that's touched me,"
"Push" by Matchbox 20
**
Outside I could see lightning flashes on the horizon. Out THERE was my freedom. Freedom from Lucky's probing gaze, from the thousand or so questions I know he wanted answers for.
I felt the prick of tears sting my eyes. I refused to break down in front of Sarah. My voice only shook slightly when I asked Lucky to come in. When he had moved silently past the doorway I made my break for it.
I slipped through the doorway and jogged down the front steps. I had broken into a run by the time I hit the sidewalk.
"Elizabeth!" I heard his shout from behind me.
I couldn't stop now. My muscles, still sore, burned worse. My breathing passages were clogged with tears. I was gasping for each breath I took. I had left Lucky with my sister, who would inevitably ask what was wrong. And I imagined he would tell her everything. Like he'd told Luke.
My humiliation pushed me over the edge. I fell to my knees, scraping my hands against the sidewalk pavement in the process, sobbing so hard my body quaked. I was virtually blind from my tears. My whole body ached.
The ground was freezing and I had forgotten my coat. My knees began to ache from the cold. I heard the squeal of brakes and a car door slam. Quickly I wiped at my tears with my sleeves.
Warmth enveloped me. I jerked reflexively and arched my neck upwards. Lucky stood over me, his hand extended to help me up off the ground. His coat cloaked my shoulders.
"Here," he said, taking a hold of my elbow and pulling me to my feet. His coat began to slide off my shoulders, but he caught it before it fell, and replaced it more securely.
"I'm fine," I snapped.
"I can see that," he shot back sarcastically. He ushered me towards his father's Beamer. "I didn't say you weren't," he muttered to himself as he opened the passenger door for me. "Get in."
My chin rose almost of its own accord. "And if I say no?" I challenged.
I could see the muscles of his jaw clenching.
"Elizabeth," he said, warning me.
"Fine," I huffed, and sat down in the seat.
Lucky rounded the car and got into the driver's seat. He stepped on the clutch and started the car. Immediately, blessed heat hit my legs. He rubbed his hands together and turned to me.
I had pressed my hands together to keep them from bleeding all over the interior of Mr. Spencer's car. Lucky's eyes fell to my hands first of all. He leaned partially over me and opened the glove box. He rustled around inside of it, his head blocking my view of its contents and pulled back seconds later with a red plastic box. He set the box in his lap and popped it open.
"Give me your hands," he requested, taking a washcloth out of the bottom of the box and then looking up at me.
"My hands are fine," I insisted, turning away from him.
"Elizabeth Webber, you are the most infuriating person I have ever met!" he exploded. "Why is it SO HARD for you to accept help from me?!" His anger was radiating to me in the close confines of the car. I turned my head to face outside of the car, pretending to ignore his words.
"Give me your hands," he repeated, in a low voice. "Please."
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to suck the remaining sobs back into my body. I slowly opened my eyes, and allowed my body to turn naturally towards Lucky. I unfolded my hands from against my body and thrust them at him. He pried them apart gently and began to wipe at the dirt and grime and blood that covered the scrapes on my palms.
His hands were rough against mine. He was rubbing little circles across my palms with his rag when the cloth hurt me and I winced. He froze and looked up into my face.
"Sorry."
I simply nodded. He returned his gaze to my hands and finished wiping them off. Next, he squeezed a glob of antibiotic ointment onto his fingertips.
He hesitated.
"This might burn a little bit."
I nodded again. He gave me a smile and proceeded to paste the ointment onto my hands. His fingers touched gently while they slid across my flesh. So lightly I could hardly feel him touching me. And it did burn. I chewed on my lip to keep from crying out. I think I gasped once, for he looked up apologetically and then went back to doctoring me up.
In minutes he was finished playing doctor, and my palms were covered with large Band-Aids.
"There now. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
I didn't reply.
He closed the First Aid Kit back up, and stuffed it back in the glove box. He turned to put the car in gear.
"Lucky, you can't drive!" I exclaimed, suddenly aware that there were no licensed drivers in the car.
"Maybe not legally," he said with a grin in my direction.
"Lucky!"
"Relax," he murmured, as we began to drive away from the curb. "My dad let's me do this all the time."
That fact did not calm me. I didn't stop shaking until we reached the school parking lot.
"Thanks for the ride," I said quickly, going for the door handle as soon as we had stopped.
Lucky reached over and grasped my arm before I could move.
"Elizabeth, you're not going anywhere."
End chapter nine.