Ren jumps down from the loft and gets between them.  Monty is startled, dropping his stance and staring down at her with vague puzzlement.  “This is between me and him, Ren.”

“No, it isn’t.  You knock it the hell off or so help me I’ll never consider you a brother again.”

He’s dumbfounded. “Holy shit, don’t tell me you’ve bought into his act.  He’s a horny little con artist.”

“Monty,” she warns, falling back to stand beside Oscar.  “I mean it.   Whatever battle you think you’re fighting doesn’t exist.”

Ren watches her brother shake his head in disgust.  He spits on the ground and addresses Oscar.  “This sure as shit isn’t over.  You stay the fuck away from my sister or I swear one of these days I’ll kill you.”

Oscar just snorts.  “Drop dead you mouth-breathing prick.”

With one more ominous glare at Ren, Monty takes off, stalks over to the pickup truck and peels out of Atlantis.

“Asshole,” Oscar says.

“Sometimes,” Ren sighs.  She touches Oscar’s swelling jaw.  “Does it hurt?”

“It’s nothing.”

Ren runs her fingers across his cheek, feeling a hint of rough stubble.  It excites her.  He always excites her.  “You know, I bet he’ll be gone all day.  Monty’s fits are usually good for about twelve hours of Monty-free living.”

Oscar grins. “Well worth the pain then.”

The little caretaker’s house is messy but blissfully empty.  Ren prepares a gourmet lunch of grilled cheese and for the afternoon they pretend there is no Monty, no Lita, no such thing as a Savage.  They spend hours in Oscar’s bed, making love tenderly, then playfully rough, then tender once again as the sun fades and an electrical storm rolls through.

“You smell that?” Ren asks as she straddles Oscar and listens to the wind outside.

Oscar props himself on his elbows, leans over and pushes the window open.  “Fire,” he confirms. “Probably sparked by a bolt of lightning, likely in the mountain foothills.”

Ren shudders.  The wind must be blowing the smoke right in their direction.  The acrid stench fills the room.   “It won’t reach here, will it?”

Oscar thinks about it.  “Nah.  There’s not enough on the desert floor to burn.  Besides there’s probably rain coming right up.  That’ll take care of things.”

“Oscar.”  She rests her cheek against his hard chest.  “We need to leave.  We need to get out of here.”

He strokes her hair.  “I know, baby.  I know.  Just need a few days to get a plan sorted out.  Trust me, Ren.  We’ll make it.  As long as there’s us, there’s everything.”

“I love you, Oscar.  I want to keep saying it in case I don’t say it enough.”

“You say it plenty.  And you’re the only one I ever want to hear it from.  I love you too.”

She shivers and tries to burrow closer to him.   She can’t.  She just can’t get close enough.  “Show me,” she whispers.

It’s ecstasy, as always.  He grips her hips and helps her move with deliberate care as they connect yet again.  Ren keeps her eyes closed, letting herself go completely, and in that moment she glimpses her future, a future full of Oscar and of bliss, and she knows it will be hers.

It only takes an instant for the vision to shatter.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar asks.  He sits up and tips her chin toward him.  “Ren.  You look terrified.  What is it?”

She tries to smile but realizes her right hand is still clapped firmly over her mouth so a smile would make no difference.  Slowly, she removes the hand that had flown to her face in horror the moment she’d opened her eyes and looked at the dark open window.  Horror, because someone was right there, looking back at her.  Someone whose features were twisted into an expression of hatred in its most unfiltered form.  And then it was gone.

“Let’s go away,” she begs, clutching him. “Let’s go away tonight.  I have a little bit of money from when I did some catalog modeling before we moved out here.  Let’s just go.  We don’t even have to tell anyone.”

“We will,” he whispers, kissing her lips.  “Not tonight but we will.”

“Why not tonight?”

“You’re not eighteen.”

“Neither are you.”

He grimaces.  “Maybe,” he mutters. “In any case no one would be looking for me.  You’re a different story.   This isn’t a movie, Loren.  We need a plan.  We can’t just slide into the night like a pair of criminals and expect there will be no consequences, that it will all turn out happily ever after.”

He’s right.  Of course he’s right.  She would be reported, the news would hit the tabloids.

“Teenager Loren Savage, daughter and granddaughter of Hollywood legends, runs away from home with a man rumored to be her cousin.  The two are thought to be at large somewhere in western Arizona.” 

“I know that,” she says with some bitterness as she slowly pulls her clothes back on.  “Believe me, I understand exactly how it is.”

Oscar watches her.  “Where are you going?”

“The big house.  I have a feeling someone’s waiting for me there.”

His dark eyes are troubled and he starts to rise.  “I’ll go with you.”

“No.”  She kisses him.  “No.  I’ll be back soon.”

The smoke smell is stronger outside.   Ren walks slowly, pausing on the porch of the brothel.  The wind plays havoc with her hair and darkens her vision with dust.  But in the west, toward the mountains, she thinks she sees a faint orange glow.  It could be a brush fire or it could be the last gasp of the vanishing sun.  It’s impossible to tell.

Why does she feel like she is being slowly choked from the inside?  Every step toward the house is more difficult to take than the last one.  She tells herself there is no reason to feel this way.   Yes, it was her mother’s face at the window, her mother’s cold eyes of loathing, but there is nothing Lita can do to her.  If she tries, Ren will convince Oscar that they have no choice but to leave, authorities and tabloids be damned.

The porch light is dark and she fumbles for the doorknob.  The pickup truck is still gone, meaning Monty has not returned.  For all their differences, Ren would rather have Monty around right now.  No matter how much he despises Oscar, he would never stand still and allow Lita to hurt her.  Ren has no such faith in her father.

At first the house is silent and Ren breathes with relief.  She tiptoes past the front room and takes a right turn down the hall towards the bedroom she shares with her sisters.  Suddenly she wants very much to be where they are.

A door opens at her back and light splashes the dark corridor.  “Loren,” says her father.  “Come here please.”

Ren tries to calm her quickening pulse as she turns around and cautiously enters her father’s study.  She has never been frightened of her father in her life and she isn’t afraid of him now.  But when she sees Lita sitting in a leather armchair with her legs crossed, a triumphant smile on her lips, Ren can hardly breathe.

She can’t do anything to me.  She can’t do anything if I don’t let her. 

Ren crosses her arms and stares straight ahead as August closes the heavy door at her back.  That’s when Lita unexpectedly rises, crosses the room, and with the strength of a man strikes Ren across the face so hard her ears ring with the echo.

“You fucking whore,” Lita spits.

Ren barely notices the pain.  There is just the shock of being hit.  Her nose feels funny and when she touches it with her fingers they come away bloody.  She inhales hard, levels a loathing stare at the woman who gave her life and says with stark clarity, “You goddamn bitch.”

“Stop it,” August demands but there’s no authority in his voice.  Only exhaustion.  “Goddamn it, both of you. Stop.”

“Gladly,” Ren says and turns to leave the room.  Whatever these people need to talk about, they can do it without her.   She needs to find Oscar.  She needs to let him know that remaining in Atlantis is no longer an option.