Hunting Her

Chapter 9

I remained silent throughout the drive, my mind consumed with mapping out every potential avenue of escape. I studied the sleaze intently, noting his every movement—the frequency of his glances in the rearview mirror, the subtle adjustments to the radio. He was nervous and clearly didn't know what to do with it.

Each time his gaze met mine in the reflection, a shiver ran down my spine, his scrutinizing eyes leaving me feeling uncomfortably exposed. And I wanted nothing more than to smash his head against the window. To tell him to keep his beady little eyes to himself. But instead, I kept to myself.

And saddled alongside a burning fury was exhaustion. I was tried. My body wanted to rest so desperately, and I wanted warm clothes. Perhaps a cup of tea.

I gently pulled again, against the handcuffs. The metal rattled but did not budge. I knew my move here, but I wasn't happy about it.

Fingers trembling with exertion, I strained against the unyielding metal of the handcuffs, their unrelenting grip a painful reminder of my captivity. With each futile tug, frustration welled within me, mingling with a resigned acceptance of the situation.

I momentarily steeled myself before dislocating my right thumb. I muffled the popping sound with a cough and breathed raggedly through the pain as I then slid my hand free. Without a second though, I clicked my thumb back into place and tested the door handle. 

The door was locked as I was sad to discover.  So, I persisted on to plan B. Discretely, I crept my hand up under my top and managed to wrangle the wire out of my bra.

Bras really are just underrated tools.

I waited for the man to check back on me as he did routinely. The moment he looked away again, I shoved the wire deep into the base of the window. The window instantly shattered.  

The noise alerted the man as he contorted his head around to face me. His eyes widened as they darted between the smashed window and my hand that was free from the handcuff.

He could only watch as I flung myself out the window, a rude gesture pointed at him as I leapt from the car. The snow barely softened my landing and as I continued to roll across the ground, I ended up smacking my head against a rock that was buried under it.

Completely dazed by another hit to my head, I struggled to my feet. The car's breaks were shrieking a few meters down the road creating an urgency that my body refused to acknowledge.

I wobbled around like a baby deer, trying hard to walk away but I couldn't stay on my feet. My body swayed and I dropped back down to the ground. I had taken too many hits to the head. My eyes were growing heavy and all will to move had left my body. So instead, I just sprawled out and rested the back of my head gently against the snow. There were worse ways to die.

My vision started to spin, and my hearing had become murmured. I couldn't bring myself to look up and see how close I was to being recaptured. Maybe I'd die before Dominic got his hands on me again.  Then suddenly the sound of a gun firing rang in my ears. My body was too numb to know if I was the target. 

I kept still, waiting for some kind of pain when instead I was roughly shaken. I reopened my eyes not knowing they had closed and saw familiar blond hair. "Blue eyes." I croaked not believing that it was me that was speaking. 

My eyes then started to droop shut but Oscar shook me violently again. I squinted my eyes at his mouth, trying to work out what he was saying but all I could hear was a slight ringing. 

And then I was being hoisted into the air. I moved towards the source of warmth and closed my eyes.  

My eyes snapped open to see the inside of a car. It was warm and a jacket had been draped over me. I wiggled my fingers, noticing the lack of handcuffs before I looked to my left and found Oscar sat in the drivers' seat. 

"I was beginning to think that you'd died." He stated, noticing I was now awake. "How you doing?"

I tried to move my head but winced. "My head hurts."

He nodded vacantly at my response, keeping his eyes on the road.

I stared out at the road too, attempting to work out where we were. But I couldn't recognise anything. "What happened?" 

Oscar didn't respond, but his grip on the steering wheel got tighter. 

"Blue eyes?"

"Something didn't feel right about your situation. You were injured, no one was really questioning why you were there. The MI6 contact was handling the situation strangely and this you were being taken without proper procedure. So, after you left, I followed you." He swallowed carefully. "I thought there was no harm in double-checking but when I finally caught up, I discovered you sprawled out in the snow with Anthony marching towards you."  Oscar then took a long pause. His eyes were glossed over showing he was losing himself in his thoughts. "Anthony saw me the moment I climbed out of the car and he panicked." Oscar spoke distantly. "He pulled his gun on me, I saw his fingers trembling as he reached for the trigger." He dropped his head in shame as his voice started to wobble. "I...I had no choice."

I tried to reach out a hand to comfort him. Taking a life was never easy. "You saved me if it wasn't for you, I wou-."

My words were cut off in an instant. "I knew that man for 8 years and I just killed him in cold blood." His voice was cold and blunt.

I could only give a tight-lipped smile in response. It was hard not to take his words as statements of regret over saving me. A blanket of silence then began to smother the car. Neither of us knowing what to say.

Eventually, Oscar piped up. "After I killed Anthony, I ran over to you. I tried to talk to you, but I don't think you could hear anything I said."

I nodded in agreement, briefly recalling the loud ringing sound that muted everything else out.

"It was pretty clear you were exhausted, so I put you in the car, treated some minor cuts and warmed you up."

I placed my hand over my forehead, mocking someone swooning as to lighten the situation. "You are truly my knight-in-shining-armour."

My attempt thankfully worked as I witnessed him being unable to resist the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile.

"You've got to explain this to me." Oscar begged. "Tell me I did the right thing." 

He wanted me to justify him killing someone. To help him live with himself. But telling him endangered him. I decided eventually that the choice should be his. "This is big. This situation is massive and your pal Anthony is far from the first victim and certainly wont be the last. You're life is in danger currently and if I tell you anything, it will remain that way. So its up to you. Do you really want to know?" 

Oscar tapped his fingers against the wheel, staring out at the road as he thought through everything. "Tell me." 

"Alright."  

I began to ramble off my story so far. Describing and therefore reliving the torture I went through with Dominic. Informing him that Anthony worked with Dominic and he would have killed Oscar if given the chance. 

Oscar listened carefully, taking in my every word. Once I was finished, he took a second to process. "I have some clothes for you."

"What?" 

Oscar's eyes fell to mine as he tilted his head towards the back of the car. "You said some clothes would be nice. So I brought you my spares that I keep in the station. They probably won't fit but it's better than nothing." 

"Is that all you have to say?" 

Oscar thought for a second. "So you aren't a criminal?" 

I shook my head. "It is all made up. I didn't betray anyone. I was betrayed." 

Oscar nodded in understanding. "So, why does Dominic want you so badly?"

"That is for me to know," I said finally drawing a line. 

"I see." Oscar stated, not pushing for anything more. "So, what now?"

"Great question, blue eyes." I said with a grin that made him narrow his eyes.