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The sounds chased her as she ran her way through the silent streets in the pitch black. Clarke felt as though something was clawing at her throat while the three men were catching up to her. She ran furiously, trying to get away from them. Panic was pumping through her veins and sweat was pouring down her forehead but she had to keep going. Her breath was starting to become uneven and she was gasping around for air, her arms moving in a synced motion by her sides.
She was smart enough to realise that she could never outrun them, she needed a distraction—something the neon sign up ahead provided.
If it wasn’t for her local knowledge on her surroundings, they probably would’ve caught up to her twenty minutes back. Clarke was able to run through alleyways and take shortcuts that helped her gain a few minutes.
The buildings towered over her as she ran for her life. She had no idea what they planned on doing to her which made the situation even worse. The ground was cracked beneath her feet and she almost fell over one of the bumps on the sidewalk. A thought niggled at her brain in the back of her mind, what if she couldn’t shake them off? Her choice of clothing that night was a black leather jacket and skinny jeans which acted as camouflage amongst the darkness following her, who knew that skinny jeans could save your life?
The neon sign lit up like the gates to heaven in her eyes. Her friend Raven owned a tattoo parlour, and she often didn’t close until the very early hours of the morning. A sigh of relief escaped her body when she realised that the front door was unlocked. She ran through into the building and startled Raven who was fast asleep on the front counter.
“Clarke, I can’t give you tattoos when you’re drunk. How could I call myself a good friend?” she explained as she raised one of her eyebrows, not happy to be awoken from her sleep.
“I’m not here for a tattoo,” Clarke replied as her voice grew serious. “These guys have been chasing me for thirty minutes now. Can I hide out back? They’re headed this way.”
“Shit. Get back there and keep quiet. The back door is unlocked, slip your way out there when you know it’s safe,” she ordered as she gestured towards the back of the shop.
There was no time to say thank you as she quickly dived through the back doors and hid around the corner.
The shop stayed silent for a few more seconds until the bell hanging over the door rang like a drum in her ears. The deafening sound of footsteps could be heard approaching the counter until the noise fell silent. In that moment that air began to disappear and the walls were closing in around her.
“Where the hell is she?” one of them growled, with an added grunt of irritation.
“Who? The only she here is me. Can I help you with something?” Raven replied in the most professional tone possible.
“Yeah, just tell me where the girl is and we won’t have any problems,” someone else ordered, sounding slightly more angry.
“There’s no one here,” Raven stated more firmly this time. “If you’re not interested in getting a tattoo, then I suggest you leave now.”
Clarke wasn’t sure if the hint was meant for her too, but it was almost as if Raven was speaking directly to her. She had to get out, or else they were going to jump directly over the counter and take her away to feed to the lions; or whatever cruel punishment they had in mind.
The lights were out but she could vaguely make out the shape of the doorway leading into the back parking lot. This was her chance. She bolted for the door—stupidly knocking over something on the way out, only just catching it as her hands fumbled around in the darkness. Her breath caught in a lump as she waited for the worst to happen, but nothing did. She sat it gently on the ground before making it out clean.
Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the orange lighting coming from the various street lights above. The parking lot wasn’t big, but it was enough room for the employees to park their cars if they weren’t getting the train into town. It was completely empty, apart from this bright red lamborghini countach. Clarke thought it looked futuristic, like the car in Back To The Future. The person that owned this must’ve been rich, they wouldn’t miss it for a few hours, right?
She looked around to see if there were any security cameras. There was one, but maybe there was a chance it didn’t reach that spot or that Raven turned it off, she knew what she’s like. So she decided fuck it, it’s worth the risk.
Running over to the car, surprisingly she found that the vehicle had been left open. The car doors swung upwards and yes, this car was definitely futuristic. If for some reason the car was left open, maybe the keys were left behind too. Her heart was racing much faster now than when she was running, a devilish smirk spreading across her face. She sat down in the front seat, but with no luck, there weren’t any keys. Luckily, she knew how to hot wire a car.
With a few twists and turns she got the engine running. At the thought, she pulled her hands up to hide her face in disgust. Having a thief for an ex-boyfriend was turning out to be not such a bad thing after all. She closed the car doors, adjusted the seat so she could reach the pedals, and she was good to go.
She drove round to the front of the parlour only catch one of the men running towards her. She slammed her foot on the pedal and skidded around the corner, not caring at this point if she hit him or not. She heard him shouting behind her but she wasn’t going to stop. The car revved and she speeded out of sight. For a minute she thought about Raven and regretted brining her into this situation. But then she remembered the time she beat up one of the jocks in college, and got into a fight at a relatives party, and punched their cheat of an ex. Plus, she always keeps a bat under the counter. Raven could take care of herself.
Clarke kept on speeding until she hit the highway. She had started to calm down, all of the adrenaline now leaving her body. This was definitely a night she was going to remember. Just like the parking lot, the highway was also empty. She only passed a few cars here and there, playing a game with herself out loud on where she thought each one was going.
“Actually, they’re probably sneaking off back home to their partner, pretending they were out on a business call when they were actually fucking someone they picked up from a bar,” said a low, husky voice that came from the back of the car.
“Wait, what the fuck?” Clarke cried out, startled by the presence she didn’t have any knowledge of. “I just stole your car. I stole your car,” she blurted out.
“Way to state the obvious,” they teased. “For someone who’s just stolen my car, you have really bad manors. You haven’t even asked my name.”
“And you haven’t asked mine. Why do you seem really chill about this? I stole your car,” she emphasised again.
Why weren’t they doing anything? Clarke hadn’t stopped driving, and they hadn’t made any attempts to stop her. How long were they listening to her conversation? They must think she’s a freak by now, though, that can’t possibly be the first adjective on their list.
“My name’s Bellamy Blake,” was all he said. The atmosphere in the car grew tense as Clarke kept a firm grip on the wheel. She started to feel flustered, sweat dripping from her forehead. She was so screwed. How was she ever going to make her way out of this one?
Making excuses was never going to help her, but she had to say something. “These three guys were chasing me. I was running for half an hour, my friend Raven owns the tattoo parlour, and I made my way out back. It just so happens this lovely, lovely car was sitting opened. I didn’t think the owner would miss it too much. I just needed a getaway,” she admitted honestly while her cheeks grew redder by the minute.
“Three guys were chasing you? Why?” he asked, actually sounding serious.
Clarke craned her head around the back of the seat to catch a view of Bellamy lying under blankets on the back seat. His skin was dark, and his eyes mysterious. Hair lay ruffled upon his head and his black t-shirt gripped his skin tight. Okay, she thought, at least this guy is hot, really, really hot.
“Because this guy wanted to have sex with me out back and I told him no. He kept pressuring me, trying to kiss my neck and got all up in my face; so I punched him in the face. That then lead to another guy getting punched, and his three muscular friends chasing after me.” The monotony could be heard in her voice. She’d dealt with guys getting pissed at her before for not taking them up on their offer to fuck behind a trashcan, but this time went way too far.
“God, some guys can be assholes,” he offered. “Including me.”
“How come?”
“Well, for starters. This isn’t my car.”
“What did you just say?” Clarke said a little more panicky.
“I stole it too,” he replied, laughing too hard to continue explaining. The car was still in motion, but that didn’t stop him from climbing into the passenger seat and taking a real look at Clarke. “You still haven’t told me your name,” he pressed.
“My name’s Clarke, and I’m not sure I feel comfortable giving you my last name.”
“Woah, I’m not the only one who stole the car here,” he said, giving her a raise of the eyebrow that was very similar to the one Raven pulled earlier. Maybe they’re related.
“Are you gonna tell me why you stole it?” Her hands began to sweat under the grasp of the wheel and she felt as though her eyes were going to roll to the back of her head. She quickly pulled over to the side, the quietness filling the air around the both of them.
“I was caught stealing where I work. I ran out the shop as fast as I could but the security guards were right behind me. My boss is the owner of the company and has three of these cars lying around, so I took one. I kept driving until I found the tattoo parlour and parked out back,” He paused, biting his lip. “It was for my sister, the food. My mum recently died, and I have no idea where the hell my dad is. It’s my job to look after her and take care of Octavia, but all I’ve done is get into more trouble.”
Clarke studied him for a moment, not sure if she should reach out to touch him, but she did it anyway. She placed her hand on his in an attempt to comfort him.
“I know what it’s like to have to steal, my ex used to do the exact same thing, though it was all for selfish reasons. That’s why I know how to hot wire a car, it’s not something I’m proud of.”
They both sat in silence. The radio wasn’t playing, and there were no cars passing to create any kind of distraction. Each breath could be heard, it was peaceful—just the two of them.
“Why don’t we head back to a hotel for the night?” Clarke offered, unsure if she was being too forward. “Only because I don’t think either of us wants to be alone right now. I don’t,” she whispered into the air.
“Yeah, okay. Though, I don’t have any money.” A look of something similar to disappointment took over his face as he stared at Clarke’s hand on his.
“I’ve got my credit card. I’m sure I can spear some money,” she said with a gentle smile.
She lifted up her hand and placed it back on the steering wheel. Luckily for them, there was a sat nav built into the car which found them a hotel only a couple of miles down the road. The silence was starting to become awkward so Bellamy switched on the radio where the song “Drive” by Halsey started playing.
“I love this song,” Clarke began.
“I’ve never heard it.”
Clarke looked at him then, taking in the sight of this person she had never met before now seated beside her in a car they both happened to steal on the same night. For some reason she started laughing, and he did too. She put the car in gear and started driving again. Soon, the both of them were singing and laughing on their way down the empty road.
She never believed that you meet people in life for a reason. Never had she thought that when people enter your life (unexpected or not), they had a lesson to teach, only that they stick around for a while before they’re off again; maybe she was wrong. For those few seconds, they weren’t failures, or thief’s, or a big brother and a best friend. They were just two people who had made mistakes.
Maybe that was the lesson she was supposed to learn, or teach, as they now became a part of each others lives. People make mistakes just like her ex boyfriend did—it’s all about what you do once you make those mistakes.
You either run, or you fight.