Mariana felt comfortable in the dress he had bought, the soft fabric making her drowsy. She knew she had to stay alert, though, aware of the unpredictable events that might unfold.
She sat on the bed, contemplating her next move. She needed to observe her surroundings, to figure out what the man was doing outside. She couldn't just sit here, passively awaiting her fate.
She stood, steeling herself, and with a newfound sense of calm, cautiously opened the door and stepped out. She walked leisurely, but the sandals she was wearing made an unpleasant clicking sound with each step. She tried to walk silently, but the sandals betrayed her. She could only hope the man hadn't heard.
As she approached the living room, she stopped short, seeing the man seated on the sofa, surrounded by firearms. He was meticulously cleaning a gun with a towel.
Mariana watched him anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't want to feel strained, but she couldn't help it.
"I knew it. I shouldn't have been so relieved thinking he was a good guy. He has an evil plan, and he's going to kill me," she whispered to herself, her heart pounding with fear.
The man stood, noticing she was watching him.
Mariana's eyes widened, and she gasped, unable to control her rising panic. She looked at him fearfully, her instincts urging her to flee. She rushed towards the front door, but the man grabbed her arm.
He pushed her against the wall and covered her mouth with his hand. She tried to scream, but he raised his left hand, holding a gun, and pointed it at his own face. It was a clear warning to stay silent. He listened intently, his senses alert to the strange, unsettling sounds coming from outside the house. He had clearly heard something amiss.
Mariana felt his body pressed against hers. She could hear his steady breathing and the rapid beat of his heart as their faces were inches apart. She kept her mouth shut, obeying his command.
But a thought began to gnaw at her mind. What if the police were outside? If she stayed silent, they wouldn't know she was there, and this man would definitely kill her. She had to try to save herself.
She pulled the man's hand away and screamed for help.
He covered her mouth again, this time with a firm grip. His eyes flashed with resentment. She had made him terribly angry, and she knew it. Her hands and feet turned cold, and she realized she had made a mistake.
"You're surrounded. You have no choice but to surrender. Get the woman out, or we'll force you to," a man's voice boomed through a megaphone.
Hope surged through Mariana's heart. It was the police, and she had done the right thing. She looked up at the man's face, seeing no shock, only displeasure. His captivating eyes were now inflamed with anger. He grabbed her arm and forced her to walk, opening the door abruptly. Mariana was stunned to see numerous police officers pointing their guns at him.
He wrapped his arm around her neck and pointed his gun at her head, pressing it against her left ear. The tightness of his grip made it hard for her to breathe. She clutched his arm with both hands and walked as he did.
"Put your guns down, or I'll shoot her! I'm going to kill her if you make a move!" he shouted, his voice laced with a chilling sincerity.
The police officers lowered their guns, reluctantly complying.
The man continued walking until they reached his car.
They were all stunned when they heard a gunshot, coming from somewhere else, not from the man or the police.
Unidentified cars arrived, firing on the police officers, including Mariana and the man. The attackers were relentless, taking down the police officers one by one.
The man jumped into his red car, and Mariana had no choice but to follow, bullets flying behind her.
He drove recklessly. This was the craziest ride of her life, sitting beside this stranger, unaware of his plans.
Mariana couldn't make sense of what had just happened. She thought she was going to be saved, but it had failed. She was still with this man, and her fears wouldn't subside. She knew he was angry with her for what she had done.
They were driving further and further away from the house, and the road was clear. No cars were following them. He slowed the car down.
Mariana scrutinized his face in the rearview mirror, seeing his melancholic features twisted with rage. His anger made her even more apprehensive. He didn't look at her. He stopped the car and got out, slamming the door with a loud, jarring sound.
Mariana trembled, sitting in the car. She watched him stand outside, the starlight illuminating him against the dark night sky. He bowed his head, his hands on his hips. His anger was palpable, and he kicked the side of his car.
"Goddamnit!" he roared.
The gun was on the seat beside Mariana, but she had no intention of grabbing it. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she couldn't stop it.
Weariness, hatred, and despair were etched on his face. His yell made her heart race, her anxiety mounting. She witnessed his raw emotion, and she thought he was going to hurt her for her disobedience, but he didn't.
She wiped away her tears when she saw him get back into the car. She was remorseful for what she had done, but she wouldn't show it. She shouldn't feel remorse because it had been the right thing to do. She couldn't understand why she felt like she had betrayed him. Her pessimistic eyes reflected her inner turmoil.
She took a deep, shaky breath. His presence in the car bothered her.
"You get out," he said firmly, looking at her in the rearview mirror, their eyes meeting.
His eyes were empty, too hard for her to decipher what was going on in his mind.
His words were clear, but she pretended not to hear them until he repeated himself.
"You get out of this goddamned car!" he shouted.
Cold tears streamed down her face. She stared at him, knowing he meant what he said. She thought she would be grateful when he finally let her go, but this was the wrong place and the wrong time.
She didn't know what to do, so she did exactly what he wanted. She hesitantly stepped out of the car, hugging herself. The cold night air touched her fair, white skin, making her feel even more distressed.
Mariana watched him drive away without looking back. All her hope had vanished, realizing that she was even more vulnerable without him.
Distress etched lines on her elegant face. The echoing sounds of the woods and the nearby highway sent shivers down her spine.
She crossed her arms tightly, feeling the warmth of her palms against her shoulders. She was cold and filled with despair.
Ahead, in the darkness of the highway, a car's headlights approached.
Mariana waved her arms, screaming for help. She wouldn't let this car pass her by.
She stopped, realizing the car was a convertible, and there were five men inside.
The men looked like addicts who had just left rehab or were in desperate need of it.
Terror surged through her body. She put her hands on her sides, trying to stop them from shaking.
The car stopped beside her, and the men erupted in laughter, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Son of a bitch! What a lucky night!" the blonde man driving the car exclaimed.
A long-haired black man took a drag of his cigarette before stepping out of the car. The bald man just sat there, laughing hysterically. Another man, carrying a bottle of liquor, approached her.
She wanted to melt into the ground. Her heart pounded in her chest, her nerves on edge.
The black man grabbed her shoulder, making sure she couldn't run.
"Don't touch me!" Mariana screamed, pushing him away, but it was no use. The man pulled her towards the car, followed by the man with the liquor.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her agonizing cry shattering the night's silence.
The men continued pulling her until another car approached and stopped.
The man who had left Mariana came back. The disturbance of his arrival caused the men to release her. He stepped out of the car, and she ran towards him, hugging him instinctively. The feeling of safety in his embrace made her cling to him. Her hands crumpled the back of his jacket as she cried into his chest, her tears staining his black t-shirt. The trauma had overwhelmed her, making it impossible to think clearly. This was the most terrifying experience of her life. She didn't know why, but she had never felt this kind of fear before, not even when she was with the man she was hugging now.
He was surprised by her clinging to him, feeling her cold body against his.
"Hey! Don't steal our bitch. Find your own shithead!" the blonde man shouted, getting out of the car and walking towards them.
Mariana lifted her wet face, looking up at the man, their eyes meeting. They were so close, her weary eyes pleading for him to save her.
"You get inside the car," he said, his low voice calming her. Everything had changed. Just a while ago, he had made her get out of his car.
Mariana released him and followed his instruction. She got into the car, wiping away her tears. The terror she had been feeling subsided. She had hugged him, and it had made a difference.
"I hugged him," she whispered, taking a deep breath and slapping her forehead. She exhaled, releasing all the tension she had been holding.
She watched the unfolding scene with a newfound sense of calm.
"Don't piss me off, you piece of shit! I'm going to kill you!" the blonde man yelled, punching him in the face. His lip split, blood gushing out.
He touched his lip, finding blood on his hand. The other men just watched, chuckling like idiots. The blonde man studied his moves. His hostile stare made the blonde man nervous. He punched the blonde man, knocking him to the ground, holding his bleeding nose.
Mariana was troubled and restless, fighting her nervousness.
"We're going to kill you, son of a bitch!" the long-haired man barked angrily.
The four men surrounded him, but they were no match for him. He was a trained assassin, and these useless thugs were no match for him.
He knocked them all to the ground, breaking their bones and faces. They scrambled to their car and drove away.
Mariana's jaw dropped in amazement. She was captivated by his heroic actions. He had taught those men a lesson.
He got into the car, sitting beside Mariana. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, and she didn't avoid his gaze.
"Are you... fine?" she mumbled, struggling to speak the words, but they came out.
He turned his attention to the steering wheel, pulling the key from his black jeans pocket. He started the engine, ignoring her question. He began this crazy ride again, and she wished he wouldn't make her get out of this car again.
Mariana stared at him as he drove, her heart filled with a strange mix of emotions. This man had done something to her, something that wasn't frightening or apprehensive. It was something she had never felt before, something lurking deep within her heart.
"God, what are you doing to me?" she whispered to herself.
***