His Captured Curiosity

Chapter 4 - Puppet or Master

As I hurry into the taxi ramp on the opposite side of the hospital I'm relieved to see it filled with cabs as my phone was destroyed last night making calling an Uber out of the question.

My features are blended well as the jacket swamps my short form and the beanie swallows my curls, I find it refreshing not to be slapped with cat calls the moment I step foot into the New York wilderness.

One cab in particular stands out to me as it resides at the front of the queue eagerly waiting for a paying customer but what catches my attention is the angle in which it's parked. From the awkward direction of the bumper it appears as though the driver has cut in the line and simply backed into the first spot as opposed to queuing with the other patient drivers.

As I hurry my way past all the other waiting cabs my guess is further proven correct as shouts and beeps can be heard from frustrated cabbies. I hold the trench coat tighter around my body and push my shoulders up to protect from the animosity and sharp winds.

"Darl don't go with that shit, some of us here actually play fair for their money." A cabby in particular calls out, reaching out to grab my arm and I pause now one car behind the line-cutter. I feel guilt swell in me as I glance between the two vehicles and offended the cabby releases me with a scoff of disgust.

"It's nothing personal. It's just he's blocking you and I have somewhere I really have to be..." I try to explain but the cabby is already winding up his window huffing.

"Do whatchu want." He murmurs before the window closes and I send one last apologetic glance before hurrying towards the open taxi.

"Beats Bar and Club on Wagon Drive?" I call out before I've even reached the bumper of the taxi but I'm relieved to see the driver hold out a thumbs up from the window, urging me to clamber into the backseat eagerly.

"Those cabbies aren't happy with you." I state as I buckle up, my head low as I search for the clip but the car suddenly revving and skidding out into the lane causes my body to shoot forward and slam into the back of the passenger seat, making my head snap up with a glare.

"Hey man!" I grit out frustrated and I press my palm to my forehead as it throbs in protest but the cabby doesn't so much as glance back as he begins erratically weaving through traffic.

I find myself regretting my decision to go with this dick and after successfully buckling I lean forward and try to capture the man's gaze through his rear view mirror. The mirror is tilted in such a way that I can't see his features and I sag back in my seat with a huff.

"Slow down." I demand as I notice his driving is becoming more reckless and the last thing I need is another police interaction. I nervously pull a strand of hair from under my beanie and fiddle with it as the speed of the vehicle increases.

"You have somewhere you need to be." The drivers voice barely murmurs and I crane my neck to hear him.

"Yeah but I'd rather not risk my life to get there!" I complain and now I lean over to view his drivers license hung above the radio, contemplating reporting him the first chance I get. I take note that his picture shows him with blonde hair and fair skin and as I glance at the back of my current driver I'm perplexed to find his mass much bigger, his hair dark and his skin tan.

Either this man went through one hell of a makeover last summer or this isn't his cab. The thought causes a shiver of alarm to bully it's way through my veins.

"You're already risking your life deciding to go back, this drive is the least of your well-being concerns." As he raises his voice I feel hot dread fill my throat as I recognise his low tones devoid of care just like when he was in charge of watching Wendy die.