"Where are you taking
me?"
No response.
"Who are you?"
This guy must be a statue.
"Are
you deaf?"
"No."
This is it, then. Answer the
most important questions I need to know, that's right.
"Are you going to kill
me?" I asked. He looked at me while still driving.
"Do I look
violent?" I looked away from him, refusing to answer his question - let
him know what it feels like to be ignored like thin air.
"I'll take that as a
yes." he said calmly. With the matching accent. He continued speaking.
"Just trust me, Ryne. You're going to thank me when this is all over and
done with."
"When
will it be over and done with?"
He fell silent. This guy is
so infuriating as much as he is handsome. "You know what? Damn you. Just damn you. I don't know what you want or
need from me but at least you should tell me anything - "
He sighed loudly and just said
two words that made me snap.
"No questions."
Bullshit.
"What
the hell do you mean by "no questions"?"
"Just that. No
questions." he said simply.
I gaped at him. "What -
you- " I stuttered. I do that when I'm not scared or damned angry. Then he
smirked. That's it.
"STOP.
THE. CAR." I said, looking directly at his eyes.
No answer.
"I hate you so much! Fuck you!"
We were speeding through the
highway at what seemed like more than legal speed. Inexplicable fear induced by
the five -now dead- people at the mall had been replaced by extreme anger,
panic and tiredness. The sun was already setting down. What will happen to me? I thought hysterically and tiredly. Where is he taking me? Talking to him
was useless. Sudden misery overwhelmed all my other feelings. I held Dash's
paw. I already feel homesick and Carsh...
An idea started to form in
my mind. I still have my cell phone tucked safely in my jacket pocket. If only I could get him to leave him alone
- the bathroom, possibly - maybe I can -
"Give me your cell
phone."
Oh
my God. How did he know?! He must be into voodoo.
"I don't have my -
"
"Just stop lying, and
give me your phone." he held out his hand.
"I told you. I. Don't. Have. My. Bloody. Phone." he held his hand
back and stopped the car - at the corner, near the edge of the bridge. Where
it's entirely vacant. Underneath us was the deep blue ocean. I have a bad
feeling about this. He said,
"Give me your
jacket." he held out his hand again. Inside my head, I'm imagining myself
stabbing him. I kept my face as convincing as possible and said,
"Are you joking? It's practically freezing!"
Then, he fixed those green eyes on me. "This can be easy, or this can be
hard. I'm asking you - all politeness, mind you - to please just give me that.
If you won't, I would have to strangle you." he looked me in the eye.
"I'm serious." I can see in his face that he really is. But that
won't stop me. Sky said,
"I warned you."
He practically lunged at me.
"HEY! GET OFF ME!" he
forced my jacket away from me. Poor Dash jumped into the backseat to get away
from us. I backed and backed away from him, despite the fact that I'm
handcuffed to my seat and my wrist really hurt. The next moment, I felt a sharp
pain at the back of my head.
"OW! You
hurt me!" I gingerly put my hand against my head. Dash began to whine. Sky
looked surprisingly offended.
"I did not hurt you, you hurt yourself on the
car window!"
I clutched my jacket tighter
to my body. "Oh, so now it's my
fault." I mocked.
"Ryne, just save
yourself a lot of misery and give me your jacket." he backed away, then
his gaze turned pleading. "Please." My eyes were wide. Who knew
kidnappers had manners? But that little trick won't work on me. I locked eyes
with him, my look challenging.
"Look," he sighed.
"I know you have your phone in your jacket pocket - "
"How do you know?"
I raised my eyebrow as I asked the question. He sighed in exasperation.
"I just know,
okay?"
"Well, that's not
exactly - "
"God!
Would you just please..." he
pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "Ryne,"
he tried again. "Your jacket please. You have to give me some credit. I
saved your dog."
He has a point. But he was kidnapping me, for God's sake. I said
quietly, "I didn't exactly ask you to do that - "
He very quickly jerked his
hand to my open jacket pocket and got my phone. "Shit!"
He was rolling down the
window on his side. I tried my damnest to get it back, but his stupid arm was
blocking me. "What do you think you're doing?!" I pushed him.
He dropped my phone.
I watched as my only means
of communication to Carsh - to anyone
- splash into the open sea and vanish. I stared at the place where it fell, my
mouth open. He did not just do that.
He rolled the window back up, I was still frozen. I heard him say,
"Now, we
can get going."
He resumed driving.
I take it back. He’s no middle guy. He is utterly, miserably
and impossibly evil.
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