I washed my face and changed clothes. There wasn't much to choose from, only some shorts that are slightly too big, and a sweater slightly too small. I might get cold at a certain point, but it'll do. I'm not particularly in a situation where I can afford to be picky.
I stare at my ruined red dress, which I've laid onto the bed. After everything that has happened tonight, I feel I should be panicking or at least feel extremely stressed. I feel fine though. I think. Am I getting used to anxious conditions?
I run my fingers through strands of my hair and decide to show myself again.
The fireplace is still burning wood and its light sufficiently illuminates the whole living room. I only notice Frank's silhouette when he moves and the flames, eager to make their warmth shine up to the kitchen, catch his movements.
"Are you hungry?" The touch of raspiness in his voice fits right into the setting of crepitant log fire by night.
"No, thanks." I walk to the couch.
"Tea?"
I nod my head, but add a vocal 'yes', just in case he didn't catch it midst the obscurity. I sit on the couch and wait for Frank to join me with tea. "How long are we staying here?" I raise my voice a bit, so he'll be able to hear me clearly over the distance between us.
"It depends." Frank doesn't take the effort to speak more loudly, but I understand him just fine. I guess he just has one of those voices. I wait for him to elaborate, only he doesn't.
He walks up to the living room and hands me a cup of tea. "Careful, it's hot."
I smile and thank him.
Frank goes standing next to the fireplace, facing me, with his own cup of tea. "Boring day, wasn't it?" He says sarcastically.
I chuckle. I'm not sure I even found his remark funny or uncalled-for.
Franks takes off his vest, lays it on the back of the couch and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. "Why don't you tell me what happened exactly?"
I put my legs onto the couch and pull them close. I'm confident the heat of the fireplace will warm me up, but for now, I feel chilly. "I think you should tell me what happened. Why do the police think I'm abducted?" I take a breath. "Again." My tone is light, but serious.
Frank remains calm, yet serious as well. "The investigation about your past abduction is still going on, but they..." He corrects himself mid sentence. "... we thought there may be some people involved we initially didn't consider." Frank shifts his body weight to his other leg, while leaning against the countertop of the fireplace. "You can reach a lot of people when you have enough money and power."
I frown. "Policemen?"
Frank nods meaningfully. "The chaos that happened earlier tonight created the opportunity to place a legal target on our back, which will get more manpower involved. Because, apparently, you've been abducted by an armed and dangerous former special forces just hours ago. Police are searching for us everywhere. Your dad and I drew up a plan, in the unlikely case we had to run for one reason or another. Today classifies as one."
I closely watch Frank as he explains. "I don't expect every cop chasing us to be corrupt, but only a handful of bastards with a badge are needed to set things in pace."
I shiver by the thought an entire group of policemen could be called to act for unnecessary reasons. Not even unnecessary, more like positively wrong. "What's this plan of yours, exactly?" I ask when my thoughts slow down.
He confidently answers. "Don't worry about that."
His short and ambiguous answer frustrates me a bit, but I know it's pointless to ask for more with him. "Did you know Jabari was bad news?"
"No. I didn't."
We both stare silently into the flames for a couple of minutes. He then takes place in front of the fire and adjusts the wood with a fireplace poker. He looks more handsome than ever. I always liked him more wearing just his usual shirt, without a vest. It also reminds me of the time I encountered him playing my piano for the first time, back home.
God, that moment...
"Tell me what happened." He asks with a hypnotising voice.
I did what he asked me to. I told him everything that had happened, from the moment I was waiting in line for the guest list, right up until I bumped into Frank and I forced him to run. All the while he stays silence, but with the fire and its shadows accentuating the bone structure of his face, I notice him clenching his jaw when I talk about the part with Jabari.
When I finished the story, my tea has finally cooled off enough to be drinkable, so I take a sip. It's delicious.
Frank and I are silent again, both in trance with the amiable sounds of burning wood. I finish my cup of tea and I lie down on the couch. I still have a good view of Frank, and although he isn't doing something particularly interesting, he's nonetheless pleasant to look at.
Knowing he's here calms me.
I almost dozed off at a certain point, when suddenly: "THUD" My head snaps into the direction of the sound: the roof.
I'm immediately awake again and I feel my blood pressure rising instantly.
No.
Someone's here.
Have the police found us?
Frank has stood up and searches for any movement outside, through the windows, which is difficult at night. I slide off the couch and I make myself as small as possible, but big enough to keep track of what's going on.
Frank turns to me and brings his index finger in front of his mouth, signing I must stay quiet. He moves slowly, with his back closely to the wall, in direction of the front door. On the way, he grabs his gun out of his coat. It's the first time I've seen him holding a gun and it makes me anxious.
We both know that the police sees him as a dangerous abductor. If they encounter him armed, he could get shot in no time. Not to mention, others will probably shoot with less hesitation.
I stay put, knowing I can't do anything right now but be cautious and stressed out.
Frank moves to the front door, puts on the small flashlight he holds beneath his gun, and opens the door in a quick movement. He aims and moves in a notable strict way. He walks outside and I lose him out of my sight, only the light of the flashlight appears through some of the windows once in awhile. I stay focused.
A minute passes.
Then three.
Five.
I notice Frank approach one of the windows and he knocks on it. I jump a bit from the sudden sound, but some calm returns to me when Frank gestures OK.
I exhale out of relieve. I didn't notice I was holding in part of my breath.
A bit later, Frank walks through the door again, visibly relaxed. He holsters his gun. "A brick fell from the chimney, onto the roof and then on the ground. It wasn't the first one, there were a couple of bricks laying in the same area, one even has grass grown over it."
He walks up to the fire and sits in the same place he was sitting before.
He looks too relaxed for me not to stay nervous. How can he lose his tenseness this fast?
He looks at me when I exhale audibly. "I checked around the house just in case. We're the only ones here." I must've looked sceptic, because Frank feels the need to assure me further. "I would be impressed if someone would find us here, I made sure nobody could. You're safe."
I believe him for the most part, yet I think you can never be sure of everything, not really. In this particular situation, that's exactly what you need to keep in mind.
Frank reaches out his hand in my direction. "Come here."
I get up from in front of the couch, take a blanket from the piece of furniture and walk up to Frank. I drop the blanket on the ground, at his right, and I go sit on it. Frank puts the whole length of his right arm on the coffee table right behind me and shifts the angle of his body more towards me, all to reduce mutual isolation.
The warmth of the flames welcome me and I'm already starting to feel more relaxed, although some stress reverberates.
I couldn't handle it if Frank would be shot right now. Not ever, for that matter, but now especially. What if some bounty hunter with a conscience below zero would shoot Frank and take me, leaving Frank alone and to bleed to death? I would blame myself forever.
It's me everyone is after, in the end. Frank's just an obstacle.
Goosebumps appear on my arms.
I ask him: "Why are you still here?" I feel the urgent need to hear him speak. It's a highly affirmative way to tell someone's alive and breathing, after all.
"What do you mean?"
I take a moment to be relieved when I hear his voice. It sounds low, soft and soothing. We're sitting close next to each other, so there's no need to talk louder than necessary.
I think neither of us dares to disturb the slowly returning calmness anyway.
"I mean," I hesitate when I think about the question I just asked. I'm not so sure if I should have. All that adrenaline from just now must've made me more audacious.
"What I meant was: why are you still here?" It took me two seconds to realise I asked the exact same question twice, just with more hand gestures.
"I mean..." I lay one of my hands in the back of my neck, like it would help me think. "Obviously, it's your job,..." I lay both of my hands in the back of my neck, aware that Frank must know by now where this is going. Nevertheless, he lets me finish talking. "Being a bodyguard can be a dangerous function, if I'm not wrong, but this, being my bodyguard... you could just have left. It would've been the wisest thing to do." Now that I said it, I don't know what I expect he'll answer.
Frank slowly takes a breath. "Damn Giselle, where did that came from?"
I shake my head. I'm so ridiculous. "I'm sorry. You don't need to answer, just... forget I said anything."
Frank briefly touches my wrist, still laying in the back of my neck, with his right hand. I almost forgot his arm was behind me.
"No, it's not that."
Then what is it?
"You're asking me why I didn't leave my job when it became more dangerous?"
I nod. "Yes, I could've just said it like that."
I'm an idiot.
"I have a couple of reasons." I feel like he's going to keep them to himself by the way he just spoke, but he surprises me. "One reason is that I take my job seriously, especially when it gets serious." He leans in meaningfully when he pronounces that last word. 'Serious' is quite an understatement, but I get it. "I tend to finish what I start." It does fit his personality, yes.
"Another reason is that I wouldn't trust anyone else with the job." He makes it sound jokingly arrogant, but I know he named a legitimate reason.
"I'm sure there are a lot of other skilled bodyguards walking around." I note.
Frank shakes his head. "Not as experienced as me, they're not."
I chuckle. "Wait, I thought this, I, was your first job as a bodyguard? How could you be less experienced than that?"
Frank clicks his tongue once and says something under his breath. I suspect it was German.
I laugh. "I'm sorry I crushed your pride."
Frank leans in again. "You'll need a lot more than that to crush my pride, doll."
My heart skips a beat. He called me doll.
I'm speechless for awhile, because I don't trust myself right now.
Frank continues talking. The humor is gone from his voice, but he speaks soothingly, as much as the nature of his strong voice lets him. "I had a great childhood. I had a family who loved me, and friends. I got to experience many parts of the world while I grew up, which was great fun. I was really lucky, not many bad things ever happened to me."
I wonder where this is going, but I'm eager to hear what he has to say next.
"I didn't have a clue who I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. For awhile, I threw time away, doing nothing useful, getting into trouble mostly. My grandfather let me know I needed discipline and should join the army."
He makes a hand gesture. "I didn't have anything better to do, so. Fast forward, I completed training with the GSG-9, I worked, I quit, I traveled, I decided to take this one job as a bodyguard."
I think this is the most I've heard Frank talking.
"My point is, I had quite a normal life, which I took for granted mostly, and I didn't care for no one or nothing in particular. As I was working as your bodyguard, I started to realise something." He takes a moment. When he talks further, he almost whispers. "You're a special person, Giselle."
My heartbeat increases.
"You're smart, kind and talented, you can be anything you want. You certainly don't deserve what's happening to you."
In a couple of seconds my body temperature rises. I didn't know Frank thought about me like this. "You don't have to feel guilty or responsible for me because you had a great life, and mine is... complicated right now." I tell him cautiously.
"I know." He says composed.
"It just feels good to give a damn about someone for once."