He parked the car, and they found themselves in an unfamiliar location, still deep in the woods.
Mariana felt her eyelids growing heavy, urging her to close them.
She had been forced to throw her necklace into the road at his command. She had assumed it was the reason the police were able to track her location, and he wanted her to get rid of it. She was careful not to anger him this time; she didn't want to be left alone in the middle of nowhere again.
The man got out of the car, and Mariana followed suit.
Mariana took in the one-story house in front of them, while the man went inside after unlocking the door. She estimated it was past midnight because the coldness of the air had intensified, seeping into every pore of her skin. She felt no shame in following him, even though he hadn't invited her in. Besides, he had left the door open, which she interpreted as an invitation.
Once inside, she felt a wave of warmth wash over her.
The house seemed well-maintained and tidy, but it was unsettling. She didn't like it, especially after seeing the shotguns, swords, and arrows hanging on the white walls.
She imagined the worst, picturing him slaughtering her at any moment. The house had numerous cabinets, and she was eager to open them, hoping to find something useful. Her sleepy, tired eyes were wide awake, scanning every detail of her surroundings.
She walked slowly, deliberately, feeling like each step was a step closer to her fate.
Her mind was racing, conjuring up bizarre, hallucinatory scenarios, fueling her terror.
"What if he's going to tie me up with that chain and cut off my feet with the shining, sharp blade of that samurai?" she murmured.
Her creative, error-prone brain was always working overtime.
"Or maybe not. I can smell his good scent after hugging him, and a good scent means good intentions. Nothing to be afraid of, self. Just don't be so sure," she murmured again.
There was something about that embrace that had offered her a moment of solace and safety. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was a princess watching her brave, handsome knight rescue her from those mindless, psychotic maniacs. She had opened her heart to him, a little bit, and it didn't seem so strange, but it felt real.
She reached the living room and saw the man talking on the phone. She had arrived late, missing the beginning of the conversation. She listened intently, as she had expected herself to do. He wasn't facing her and wasn't even aware she was there.
"I'm right here in my hideout, Trae," he said.
He removed his black jacket and tossed it onto the gray couch without turning around. Mariana's lips parted as his muscular shoulders emerged from the short sleeves of his black, plain T-shirt. The bandage on his right shoulder was visible.
"I always handled everything so easily, and this situation failed me. This girl messed everything up, and it's my fault I didn't kill her before things got worse," he said.
His voice was deep, desperate, and cold, mirroring her own heart.
Strangely, Mariana felt a pang of sadness, a feeling she couldn't explain.
She wasn't afraid after hearing what he said, but sadness had invaded her completely. He had planned to kill her, and he regretted not doing it. That thought shattered her mind. Mariana's face fell as she realized everything. She had reason to be afraid of this man. Her instincts had betrayed her. She should stop feeling sorry for him and be repulsed by him, curse him, or run away while she had the chance. But running seemed impossible now; her feet were glued to the floor. She couldn't move, leaving her no choice but to continue listening.
"Shit! I just brought her to my hideout, and yeah, I'm a fool. I know. You don't have to tell me. This crap is making me insane," he said, sounding exasperated. His high-pitched voice made his frustration evident. He was explaining himself with difficulty, and his face contorted with anger.
Mariana was shocked because she had never heard him have this kind of conversation before, and of course, because she didn't know him at all. He spoke sparingly, as if budgeting every word that came out of his mouth. She didn't even know his name, still referring to him as "the man."
Mariana wanted to ask him a million questions. She would wait until he hung up the phone, which was how patient and desperate she was. He was revealing his true colors, she thought.
"Yeah, I should have done what I should have done earlier," he said.
Mariana's eyes widened after hearing his last words.
He hung up the phone and turned to face her. He was a little surprised to see her standing there, staring at him with her round, brown eyes.
Their eyes locked.
"You can use that room," he said, glancing at the room he was referring to.
Mariana just stared at him, wondering how brave she was to actually question him.
"So, why didn't you kill me earlier, huh?" she asked casually, watching him turn his head back to meet her gaze.
He clenched his jaw in undisguised anger.
Mariana wasn't calm or afraid; she just needed an answer. She wanted to know everything so she wouldn't continue to create ridiculous, false conclusions in her tangled mind. She wasn't even sure what had angered him. Was it the question? Because she had listened to his conversation? Because she knew what he was going to do next? Or because she had come inside?
"Don't test me," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
The small cut on the left side of his lower lip, caused by the hard fist of the man he had beaten up on the road, was still visible. His few words were enough to make anyone afraid, but Mariana wasn't threatened.
"Come on. I want you to answer me. I want you to give me an answer! Is it so hard to do?! Do you think I'm going to be okay after hearing what you just said? That you regretted not killing me? Do you think I can actually go into that room knowing that you planned to kill me and that you might kill me at any moment?!" she shouted, her voice laced with despair. She couldn't hold back her tears, and they streamed down her reddening cheeks. She was scared, and she knew it. Her hands were cold, but she stood steady, waiting for him to speak.
The man watched every tear roll down her rosy cheeks. He remained silent for a moment, watching her breathe deeply, her chest rising and falling.
He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw.
"You want answers? Well," he said, walking closer to her, less than half a meter away. He looked into her eyes with intensity, and his gaze froze her in place. His body towered over hers.
"I should have killed you, but I realized I don't really care about you because you're not important to our business. I tried not to kill you, even though my boss told me to, because I thought I could handle it my way. I meant it when I told you I'd let you go home, but your stupid actions hours ago messed everything up. The cops thought I kidnapped you because they saw you with me, and it became impossible to return you."
He inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening before he continued. Mariana stared at him intently, her focus unwavering as his voice grew louder and louder.
"Your fiancé, tomorrow he's going to put a million dollars on my head, and my face will be on the news headlines this morning! I'm stuck in this bullshit business that I shouldn't even be involved in!"
Mariana's jaw dropped in shock. He shouted so loudly that every word he uttered was crystal clear.
She had never intended to believe that her stupidity had ruined everything, but she realized she had been incredibly foolish.
She took a small step backward, her head drooping, and she avoided his gaze. A mix of embarrassment and sadness welled up inside her.
"I'm... sorry. So... what are you going to do next?" she whispered sadly, knowing he was still looking at her.
"You go inside the room," he said.
"Aren't you going to kill me now?" she asked.
They spoke simultaneously. She lifted her head again, meeting his gaze, wiping the tears from her face with her hand.
"I guess you... you're out of options now, but to kill me," she said.
He lifted his head and sighed, a sign that he was tired of talking and explaining. His Adam's apple, hidden behind his throat, became visible, and Mariana's eyes froze there, on his neck. His broad chest, defined by the fit of his T-shirt, filled her vision.
"Can you please just do what I said?" he asked, lowering his head again. Mariana seemed calmed by his gaze. Her tears were slowly drying, and nothing made her more attractive in his eyes than seeing her long eyelashes wet with tears, adding a touch of charm to her beautiful eyes.
"I've explained everything to you. And if I'm going to kill you? I can't give you a definite yes or no," he said.
Mariana closed her eyelids and smirked for no reason.
"What you said just made me more bothered. It didn't make me feel any better," she said, not breaking eye contact. She opened her eyelids and continued. "Just let me know if you're going to kill me already because I have a lot of things to apologize for to God. I'm not actually scared to die; I'm just scared of going to hell. You have no idea."
You might think she was cracking a joke, but she meant every word, and her face was serious.
"I'm not enjoying this conversation with you, miss. You're irritating me with all these questions. I want you to know you won't like it when I'm angry," he said.
Mariana struggled to decipher his emotions from his words.
"Mariana,my name is Mariana Rodriguez. I wanted to exchange information, and practically speaking, I wanted to know your name," she said fiercely.
He clenched his jaw again.
"I know your name. And practically speaking, it can't be called exchanging information when I already have enough information about you," he said, turning his gaze away from her and walking past her. Mariana felt him pass by her side, smelling his good scent. He almost brushed his shoulder against hers.
Mariana stood there, both her feet glued to the caramel-colored floor.
She was halfway satisfied with their conversation; some of her questions had been answered.
"I'm stupid. He was so close to becoming a good guy, but I shouldn't trust him. But I'm going to try to give him a little trust? Dang it, I'm so stupid," she thought to herself, berating herself.
She shook her head and cupped her wet face in her cold hands.
"Dang it! I'm stupid!" she whispered.
***