Who Is She?

Chapter 72

He wore a face mask that covered his face to protect his identity. Kinda ironic when he wielded a gun that negated others- although Issac couldn't see his assaulter's face, the way he held the gun said the man was equipped in using guns.

Issac held the phone in such a way that the man in black suit wasn't visible through the camera and his eyes wandered across the small shop to find a way to escape.

Or even discreetly get someone to notice him. But he knew, looking at the almost empty- the only other customer checking out at the moment and the other standing several aisles away- he knew his efforts were futile.

"Are you Lillian?" When Issac felt the man tilt his head to get a direct look at Lillian's face, Issac swiftly disconnected the call.

The caller's name wasn't mentioned in the call. There was just no reasonable answer than him being used as a bait to lure Lillian. And if he wasn't wrong, Riley is the person they were looking for.

"Why are you looking for her?" Issac demanded, cautiously, catching a glimpse of the shopkeeper looking at their direction with a frown. He'd hoped his expression was enough to enough to convey his need for help, but it turned futile when the shopkeeper simply rolled her eyes with a slight shake of her head before concentrating on the screen before her.

There was a rush of sudden panic inside him which he tried to quash down once he felt the nozzle being jammed harshly into his back- almost knocking the breath out of him and onto the trolley with a pain filled gasp.

If the man wasn't directly behind him, he could do better at protecting himself. He knew basic self defense and what to do when gun was involved in the play. Either to run or be careful while disarming the perpetrator.

But the man wasn't in front of him- rather the opposite- and that was the only way he'd learnt to disarm another effectively. The phone in his hand vibrated violently and the ring tone he'd specially set for her jammed in the room.

"My boss wants the whore, little guy. If you let us have her, we will let you go."

Pressing the off button of the phone- he silenced his phone's cry for attention- clutching his phone in his hand through silent anger. "I rather die before I let you touch a single strand on her head."

The shop chimed, another customer entering the shop. The clutters of the crowd stopping as the door closed behind her.

Please don't come in. Please leave. Please. Please. Closing his eyes, he changed the words like a prayer in his head, clenching the solid metal in his hand like an item of prayer- hoping they could magically hear his desperate pleads and chose to turn around and walk out the door, like they never entered the store in the first place.

"They always say that." Another man uttered with disdain and something else..... something else that likely meant to instill fear in him, before moving forward. With a solid grip on Issac's wrist, the man tried to pry his fingers of his phone.

Internally heaving a sigh and a silent plead for strength from the skies to overpower the two steroid men, Issac used all his force to bring his heel down on the other man's foot, and opened his palm to let the phone fall to the other open and awaiting hand.

He heard the man let out of soft yelp in pain- not clear whether it was completely out of pain or shock or a mixture of both.

Before giving either of the men the time to think, he moved- his wrist tightly squeezed by the firm hand, now slightly loosened his hold of the wrist.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins.

Sheer adrenaline supported his action that he wouldn't have orchestrated for the life of him in a normal situation- where he wasn't being held by a gun or the love of his life' life threatened.