Loving Maria

Chapter 3

MARIA

I couldn't help smiling as I revved off, leaving his car behind. There was something about the man that kept me fixed to my toe. For a moment, speaking with him had taken my mind off my plight and I wished we didn't have to part ways so quickly.

“Carl,” I muttered, glancing at the card lying on the center console storage. At least I have his card.

I didn't see it coming but immediately I stepped out of my car, I was swamped by a charade of paparazzi flashing cameras at me like a strobe light. The cacophony of shouted questions was deafening. If the circumstance permitted, maybe I would've reveled in the thought of being seen, but this wasn't the case.

"Dr. Taylor, did you embezzle funds to start this hospital?"

What a dumb question to ask, I was tempted to retort, but there was more where that came from. Would I say I did even if that was true?

"Is it true you're performing abortions despite your pro-life stance?"

Can I really answer that? It was once or twice, but I'm still a pious believer in the beauty of life. Does that dismiss me as a pro-lifer?

"How do you respond to allegations of hypocrisy?"

My legs went numb. That question right there cut deep, and I felt my composure waning. I'm not a hypocrite because I went against my principles once or twice. How can you tell by criticizing me? I so badly wanted to speak up for myself like the bold, fearless woman I was, but all I did was raise my hands, with my palms outward, in a futile attempt to deflect the barrage. Like a coward.

No one was coming to save me, I realized as the swamp of reporters bamboozled me with countless questions. Where the hell was my Lawyer, and PR team?

Just as the paparazzi seemed to gain more ground, a tall figure carved his way through the crowd, and covered my face from the ever increasing flickers of light. I lifted my eyes - as if to a hill - but beside me was my helper in a black suit and nose mask concealing his identity.

“Who is he?” The reporters asked each other in confusion. Then, as if shrugging off the surprise, they plunged into more questions.

“What are you to her, Mister?”

“Can we at least see your face?” Came another demand, as they glamored even louder for attention.

Why would you see his face? To add more disgusting s**t to the tabloid? But I couldn't say a word.

His broad shoulders absorbed the impact of the camera flashes, and, of course the nagging questions as he motioned towards an awaiting Bugatti La Voiture with no plate number. I couldn't tell right away, but I thought the car looked faintly familiar.

The stranger guided me through the crowd, shielding me from the chaos as we weaved our way through. I felt hapless, so I just followed, like a sheep to the slaughter until we reached the sleek black car. He opened the door, tucked me inside beside the driver's seat, got in beside me and started the engine - pulling away from the curb like he was trained for this moment.

The paparazzi gave chase, unwilling to let go, but he navigated through traffic and soon we were out of sight. We'd lost them.

Although relieved, I was still shaken by the incident even as he drove a considerable distance away from the swamp while the man kept his mask on.

For a moment, I forgot about the scandal, the hospital, and the paparazzi. All I basked in was the stranger's calm, reassuring presence. Again, that strange peace. The peace I only felt in Carl’s presence.

Carl! Wait, that's impossible, I gasped, turning to the stranger. He wore that suit and shirt. The one Carl wore. No, it couldn't be.

“Carl?”

It sounded impossible. I mean, he had no reason to help me, but still, I couldn't shrug off the feeling that it was him. I just knew. It had to be him.

He turned to me, his piercing blue eyes gleaming softly as if speaking to me. Even before he said a word, his eyes said so much.

“I got caught.” He chuckled, drawing the nose mask off his face. “But why does it feel like you're not happy to see me?”

“What? How?” I stuttered. Stammered even. Was it excitement, or comfort? I couldn't place which feeling I was overwhelmed with, but whatever it was, it felt good.

“Coincidence,” he answered, looking ahead.

Was it important how he knew? I wondered, looking into the distance too. What mattered was that he came for me. For me.

Where are we going? I was curious, I should've inquired, but I couldn't. I wasn't one to trust so easily, but it escaped me when I began trusting him like a fool.

“Why did you help me?” I asked, after a while.

Carl didn't reply immediately, he kept his eyes darting between the road ahead and the distance behind. Then he tore his eyes briefly from the side mirror to glance at me, his eyes piercing but kind.

"Let's say I'm someone who knows what it's like to be in the crosshairs," he replied, his voice low and soothing.

Call it crazy, but I thought he had a knack for making me lose my mind. My heart palpitated in my chest, and warm sensations spread in my heart as I felt a lump grow in my throat. Who was this man? He got me every single time and like a fool, I was slowly falling for his charm.

I have no idea when I whispered my name to him. That was something I didn't do so easily.

“Maria.”

“You say what?” He asked, shifting his eyes between me and the road ahead.

“My name,” I whispered again, not taking my eyes off him. “It's Maria. Maria Taylor.”

With a slight miscalculation, Carl hit the brake pedal on impulse, and the car screeched and squealed loudly before coming up to a halt beside a field. Particles of dust hung in the cloud like confetti but I couldn't take my eyes off him.

He had me without saying a word.