Sammy
I can smell the iron in the air mixing with a hint of smoke.
When I’m alone, I cover my mouth and swallow down any attempts of throwing up. Never having been put in a situation like this, my body doesn’t exactly know how to react.
I’ve seen a handful of bad things in my life but never a dead body. Especially not a family member. All those crime shows I’ve watched? None made it seem this horrible.
My uncle remains lifeless on his chair. Without his obnoxious snores, the room feels unfamiliar. The television is all I’ve got to listen to and thanks to the stripe of blood across the screen, all I can hear is muffled buzzing. What is the woman selling on the other side, a cooking device?
My heart pounds while my body feels like needles are pricking my skin from all angles. Am I having a panic attack? Seems a bit justified. Maybe this is the first wave of shock. I have to put breathing on manual mode, otherwise, I’m going to pass out.
There’s so much blood. More than a human body should have.
I just happened to look out my window to see the man resting against the tree smoking a cigarette. At the time, I didn’t think anything strange of it. After all, my uncle is the type of man who had strangers come over all the time. It didn’t matter if he was sober or not.
I’ve never had a stranger catch my attention, let alone make me stare. I’m not sure what it was about him that made my eyes linger for so long. Thanks to my darkened room, nothing gave away my secret staring session. Taking advantage, I watched each time his cigarette lit up in the dark night.
Disappointment filled my gut when he abandoned the tree and trudged forward. If he was meeting up with my uncle, then he can’t be a good man. Not the kind my heart should thump for.
I’m not supposed to leave the attic, not while my uncle is home. It’s one of those unspoken rules that I always followed without argument. Personally, being around the man makes me uncomfortable. He never entered the safety of my room and I never entered his space either. I never wanted to think about what would happen to me if I broke those rules.
Sometimes, I think that my uncle forgets that I live up here on my lonesome. The only signs I ever give away are the missing foods from the kitchen when I sneak down to eat. Sometimes I clean too, but only because I’m bored to tears. There’s always something around the house to pick up.
Tonight, I broke that unspoken rule. I craved seeing this stranger up close. Seeing what kind of man wanted to tangle himself up with a man I considered crooked, I needed some kind of flaw to get rid of this impossible-to-ignore urge . Urge to do what, I’m not sure.
So, I snuck out of my living space and crept silent as a mouse. Thanks to always wanting to be unnoticeable, I have mastered walking without a sound, for the most part. The trick is to only step on the toes, which gives more control to avoid any slip-ups.
I made it halfway through the dining room before I heard the loud pop. Instinctively, I grabbed the vase on the table as if I could use it to protect myself. In my mind, I knew exactly what that sound was. Yet, it wasn’t enough to stop me from continuing forward to confirm my suspicions.
When the floor creaked without warning and gave away my location. I don’t know what made me drop the vase; the gun pointed in my direction or the stranger holding it.
Half of the butterflies in my stomach were flying high while the other half were dropping dead, weighing heavy in my gut.
Maybe I’ve been kept away for too long. My reaction can’t possibly be normal. After all, what kind of normal person catches interest in a killer? I stare at him wordlessly for seconds which feel like an eternity.
At least I managed to ask him to leave after finding my tongue. Surprisingly enough, he agreed.
Now I’m here staring at my uncle and risking an injured heel no matter where I step. I don’t feel good. If I call the cops, what will they think? Will they expect I did the crime? This thought leaves me feeling even worse.
Covering my mouth, my next breath comes out trembling. What should I do?
I don’t hear the front door open again. Only when I feel the cool air lick at my calves do I realize that I am no longer alone.
Not only is the stranger back, but he is coming straight at me. Did he want to finish what he started? I don’t want to die. When my mouth opens, I am sure those words come out as well. So numb to the situation, I’m not even sure what words leave my lips before he reaches me.
There is no gun in his hand, only black gloves that I didn’t notice before. How am I going out, strangulation? I’d prefer to get shot, it’s a much quicker death.
My body is stiff as a statue, unmoved from what I can only suspect to be fear. In this kind of situation, what other reason do I have?
Instead of wrapping his hands around my neck, he grabs my arm and tugs me in his direction. One moment my feet are on the ground and the next, they aren’t. He’s hosted me onto his broad shoulder without any warning whatsoever.
More broken shards break under his boots as he starts walking toward my uncle.
I close my eyes tight, not wanting to see what he’s doing. The smell is even stronger up close. Holding my breath until my lungs burn, I don’t suck in any air until we’re moving again.
Heading back toward the entrance of the home. I don’t realize that I’m being kidnapped until we reach the door and the winter air chills my body down to the core.
“Hold still,” he orders when my limbs start wiggling. He grunts when I hit his back with a few balled fists.
The guy feels like one big wall of muscle. I don’t think I’m doing any damage to him and my body defies me when I get tired way too quickly. Catching my breath, I try not to notice the strength of his arm against the back of my thighs. He’s holding onto me like he has no intentions of letting me go.
The butterflies are back, swarming my gut in a huge flock. Do I really need to remind myself why this sensation is so wrong? I’m being kidnapped .
“If you want to kill me, you don’t have to go so far out of your way,” I tell him back, trying my hardest not to let my voice shake. My teeth are chattering, it’s freaking cold out here!
“Not going to kill you,” he growls. Growls! Who is this freaking guy? What kind of power does he have to make my insides clench up at the animalist sound?
Compared to the crisp cold night, his body is a heater. I hate that I’m not trying to peel myself away from him quickly enough. At the same time, I hate that I’ve been caught in a nightgown.
If he’s not going to kill me, what are his intentions? Sell me off to someone who will keep me silent? Horrified thoughts start to form and I’m fighting a battle between putting up a struggle and curling up to the stranger.
“Were you hired to kill my uncle?” I ask after the sound of silence grows too consuming. After watching a handful of dramas, I’m wondering if this guy is a straight-up assassin. How far does this guy plan on walking?
The stranger doesn’t answer. The arm around my thighs tightens as he trudges through a thicker patch of snow. Must’ve hit that one right on the dot.
“Were you hired to kidnap me too?” The question comes out much quieter than I’d like. Honestly, I’m surprised someone would even know of my existence. My uncle wasn’t one who openly talked about me. “Am I going to get sold in the black market?”
He scoffs like I’ve told some type of joke. “No. Didn’t know you were there.”
So what, he decided to kidnap me on his own accord? A cold-blooded killer. What is he going to do to me once we make it to his destination?
You’ve got to fight and get away from this man. Even if he does feel warm, he’s still a bad guy here!
Grunting, I shove my knee into his stomach as hard as I can. I claw and scratch and do whatever I can to break free.
The stranger must be somewhat affected because he leans forward and suddenly, I’m sinking a foot into the snow. Dropped on my back, my nightgown does nothing to save me from freezing.
He looks angry. Even through the darkness, I can see his scowl. Those gloved hands are balled up in fists and shaking like he wants to fight the world. With his show of strength, I’m sure he’d win. I’m defenseless against the brute.
My eyes water instinctively and I cover my face. I’m cold and scared, what does he expect me to do, go with him willingly? I won’t cry. Not in front of this guy. Not while he’s staring down at me with uneven breaths.
Seconds of silence trickle by as I watch the anger slip away and morph into a look of stress, then straight to exhaustion. Does he not actually want to steal me away from that house?
“I wasn’t sent to kill you. If they catch wind of your existence, you will die.” He says the words so calmly it’s startling. Despite the serenity in his voice, his eyes tell a whole different story. He’s like an animal ready to strike at any moment. “I know how their minds work, it won’t be quick. You’ll wish I would’ve been the one to do the job.”
Sniffing, I wipe my eyes. Sitting up, I dust off the snow covering my arms. My poor skin is turning purplish at a terribly fast rate. Hello, frostbite. Goodbye, all the feelings in my body.
“Why would they want to do that?” My question comes out shaky with my teeth chattering. Whoever ‘they’ is, they sound awful.
The stranger curses and picks me back up. Rather than treating my body like some flour sack, he’s cradling me in his arms. The only reason I’m squirming to get closer to him is because of the heat radiating from his chest.
I’m breathing against his throat, sucking in his musky scent. It’s about the only thing around here filling my body with warmth and it’s hardly enough to cling to.
“Because you’ve seen too much.” He keeps trudging forward, unbothered by the chill in the air. That coat he’s wearing looks incredibly comfortable. Instinctively, I’m shoving a hand inside, dragging my palm against his hard chest. Shoving my arm inside followed by my other, I hear him hiss under his breath.
So this kidnapping is now a rescue mission? For all I know, this man is telling me lie after lie. He’s planting a story in my head to keep me from fighting. Though, if that were the case, he looks pretty annoyed by the whole situation.
My breathing slows and I stare at his throat, watching each time he swallows heavily. Despite all this walking, he’s hardly out of breath. His arms feel so sturdy holding my body like he wouldn’t risk dropping me a second time. I think he’s learned his lesson after the first time. My body is wet and definitely soaking his clothes.
Snow is falling heavily, making it impossible to see what’s in the distance. We’re supposed to have a snowstorm passing through and I think we’re caught right in the middle of it. Did the man know ahead of time or does he have as bad of luck as I do?
“You’ve picked the worst night to do this,” I mutter under my breath. Wiggling closer, I can feel his stubbled cheeks poking at my forehead.
This is so wrong on so many levels. Dependent on some hitman, snuggling against his chest like I am.
“Agree to disagree,” he grumbles back. “Perfect time to go unnoticed. This was supposed to be an easy job, quick without any problems.”
He won’t look at me, not even a glance. I shouldn’t want him to look down. Not when he’s got a scary-looking face.
I’ve never met a man with multiple scars on his face. He’s got one on his chin and another on his eyebrow. If I leaned in and took a closer look, would I see any smaller ones? How would they feel if I ran a finger along each small indent? The temptation is there, silently whispering words of encouragement in the back of my mind.
I don’t reply, but I don’t like being considered a ‘problem’. Be it to a guy who kills for a living or to anyone else really. Knowing a little something about going unnoticed, I can bet he didn’t need a snowstorm to catch my uncle off guard.
Our walk together lasts only another five minutes. When I see a truck parked in between some trees, my nose scrunches. Just to go undetected, he walked all that distance? Sounds like too much work.
He sets me down hardly long enough for the heels of my feet to burn from the fresh snow. Once he’s got the passenger door open, I’m scooped back up and put inside.
“Don’t try to run,” he orders as he drags the seatbelt across my body. His fingers don’t brush against my body, simply clicking the belt in place. “I don’t want to chase you, but I will.”
My heart thumps hard at the promise in his voice. If I tried to dart anywhere, imagining this guy storming after me makes my body flicker to life, burning hot. Despite my skin freezing on the outside, something else is going on inside. Something I’ve never experienced before and can’t explain.
“I don’t have anywhere to run to now,” I whisper as he hesitates shutting the door. Meeting my gaze, I can’t avoid seeing the way his jaw tightens. He’s got a hard-to-read face and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. At least there isn’t pity in that hard gaze, just lingering agitation.
He shuts the door and walks around. Once he’s settled inside, it takes a minute before I can feel the heat blowing from the vents. My hands immediately press against the front for some relief. The heat at my feet is also appreciated.
“Do you have a name?” I ask once my teeth stop clashing together.
He doesn’t answer at first. From his pinched-up expression, I don’t think he wants to say. Well, I need to call my kidnapper something.
“I’m Samantha, but I go by .” Watching the windshield wipers knock away the falling snow, I listen to the soothing repetitive sound. When was the last time I introduced myself to another person?
“Javier.” He puts the truck in drive and we’re off, headed toward the unknown.