Chapter 2
778 Words
We drove in silence.
But I didn't mind; I was warm and hopefully safe.
“You are bleeding”. He said.
Not a question. An observation.
I looked down at myself.
My head swam, the world tilting as warmth seeped down my skin, maybe it was the adrenaline pulsing through my veins that's why I didn't feel anything before. But I realized he was right. The rain hid most of it, but I felt it now. The sting, the weakness, the way my body trembled, though the shivering had eased.
“Hold on for a minute” he continued, just as calm.
Not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. He reached into the centre console and pulled out a folded black cloth and handed it over to me.
“Try pressing this on it”.
My fingers were clumsy as I took it, already slick with rain and now blood. I hesitated but only for a second before obeying, I bit back a hiss as the fabric touched the cut.
“Thank you”. I whispered not knowing what else to say.
“What's your name?”. He asked.
“Tanya Roma-”. I stopped myself before I could say the remaining words. I couldn't tell him my full name. Not many people in town would be willing to help once they knew my name. And right now help and protection was what I truly needed, not another person trying to get rid of me.
So I said the first name that came to mind. Instead of Tanya Romano, “Tanya McLean, my name’s Tanya McLean”.
He stared at me for only a minute as if knowing I was lying. But later decided to ignore it. He didn't say anything. He just kept his eyes on the slick road ahead of him, hands steady on the wheel. The hum of the engine and the steady tapping of rain against the windshield filled the silence between us.
That was when I really looked at him . I might have escaped from death’s door but I do appreciate God's creation when it is placed directly in my path.
And this man behind the wheel?
Was definitely God's favourite.
The dim glow from the dashboard, traced along sharp angles around his face, strong jaw and straight nose lips set in a hard line that shows he wasn't used to compromising or smiling or maybe it was both. His dark hair was slightly damp at the edge, pushed back like he hadn't bothered with a mirror. But he doesn't actually need one.
Everything about him was controlled, deliberate and dangerously calm.
His hand on the steering wheel caught my attention next.
Long fingers wrapped confidently, veins raised, knuckles marked with faint scars and tattoos but I couldn't tell what drawings were on them. The sleeve of his shirt was pushed up just enough to reveal that the black ink continued to wind over his forearm,clean lines, intricate symbols disappearing beneath the fabric. Tattoos that didn’t feel decorative, but earned.
As his grip controlled the wheel. One thing was clear to me.He wasn't one of those men who commands attention or control, no,this man owned both.
He didn't bother looking at me while I studied him.
“Why… Why are you helping me?” I asked. My voice was barely above a whisper.
His gaze flicked to me in the passenger's seat,for a nanosecond,dark and sharp, like he could see straight through me. “Because if I didn’t, you’d be dead before the night is over.”
I swallowed hard. The bluntness of his words didn’t scare me if anything, it gave me a sliver of relief. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t pretending. He wasn’t pretending to care… but he had saved me anyway. For that I was entirely grateful.
I knew he was right, if he wasn't helping I would probably be dead or maybe locked up in a cellar until my presence is needed.
“Thank you” I whispered again for what felt like the hundredth time to him. My fingers were tightening on the cloth. Somehow, just being here, in the warmth of the car, with him driving… It felt like a chance I didn’t deserve.
His only response to that was a nod. I managed a smile and turned to look out the tinted window trying not to think of the things that I have lost. Some between me trying not to think I must have fallen asleep dreaming about the handsome stranger that had saved my life and a life that has already been taken from me.
- Writer
