Oscar was outside Miranda's house. He walked to the door and knocked, the sound of wood echoing through the air, mixing with the rapid beat of his heart.
When Miranda opened the door, a wave of relief ran through him when he saw that it was her and not one of Thomas Brown's men.
—Oscar! "It's good to see you, please come in," he said with a kind voice that seemed to illuminate the space.
Oscar entered with confidence, although inside he felt a mixture of nervousness and determination. He sat in a chair next to the round table, and Miranda settled next to him. Her closeness gave him a little more courage.
—Listen, Miranda... I came because... Am... I'm really interested in you. "I know you're not going through a good time, and I know it without knowing you well," Oscar said.
Miranda lowered her head slightly, her own pain reflected in her expression. They both knew there was a deeper connection behind his words.
—Thank you for worrying. "That makes me feel calmer," she said, but there was a shadow of worry in her eyes. "But I don't want you to get in trouble because of me," Miranda stressed seriously.
—Don't worry, I'm already in trouble... If I can help you, I will. Tell me a little. What relationship do you have with this Thomas Brown? Why does he think he is your owner? Oscar asked, his voice a little firmer.
—Thomas Brown is the owner of the club and also someone very powerful in terms of money. "It controls this area of the city," Miranda revealed, her gaze lost in an indefinite point. And Jhon Bell... The guy who kicked you out of the club... He's his right-hand man, if we can put it that way.
Oscar listened to her attentively, noticing how each word was difficult to come out.
—Brown was a friend of my parents. "I lived with them in this very house." He paused, letting out a heavy sigh. My parents asked Thomas Brown for a loan because we were going through a difficult time financially. He lent them the money, but with one condition: if they didn't pay back what they owed, he would take the house from us.
Oscar remained silent, allowing Miranda's words to flow unhurriedly.
—My parents died a while ago in a car accident, and I was left in charge of that debt. "I work for him as a waitress for free to pay him what we owe him," Miranda continued, her voice shaking slightly. But there's something else... Brown is obsessed with me. Whenever he came to our house to talk to my parents, he would give me looks that made me feel uncomfortable, as if I were an object rather than a person.
Oscar felt bad for her, a growing anger towards Thomas Brown bubbling inside him. The injustice of the situation consumed him.
"Sometimes he tries to manipulate me," Miranda said, her voice shaking slightly. He tells me that I don't need to work, that I could go with him and the debt would be gone. But the last thing I want is to be near that disgusting man.
"Wow... He's a bastard," Oscar responded, his tone full of compassion. I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. And how do you manage to support yourself if you work for that unfortunate man for free?
Miranda smiled slightly, as if that question brought her a ray of light in the midst of the darkness.
"In the morning I'm going to take care of animals at a shelter," he said, his eyes lighting up. It is a very nice place, full of life. I love animals; They are so sincere and do not judge you.
Oscar also smiled when he saw her smile, feeling that there was something special about her. Miranda was sincere and charismatic; Only the bad moment he was experiencing somewhat dimmed that light he emanated.
"That sounds great," Oscar said, his voice more cheerful. Animals have a way of healing the soul, right? Maybe you could share more about them. Do you have any favorites?
"Yes, I love kittens," Miranda said, her voice soft and adorable. When I'm free, I usually play with them.
Oscar smiled, feeling the warmth of his laughter light up the atmosphere.
-That's great; Cats are adorable beings... —he paused for a moment, feeling that it was a good time to return to a delicate topic—. Sorry for insisting, but it's a shame that guy harasses you. You can tell that he is a much older man, and you are still young. How old are you?
"I don't mind you mentioning it again," Miranda said with a pleasant smile. I think he is 43 years old. All I want is to pay the debt and get rid of him once and for all.
Oscar frowned, worried.
—And why don't you notify the police? At least so he stops harassing you like that.
"That would be useless," she replied, her eyes filled with a resigned sadness. He manages the area; The police won't do anything. Plus, he could bribe them with his money.
Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of the situation in the air.
—I promise you, Miranda... That I won't leave you alone in this. "I'm going to help you out of this nightmare," he said firmly, looking into her eyes.
Miranda smiled and looked at him intensely, as if his words were a ray of hope in the midst of the storm.
—Thank you, Oscar. "You are very gentle," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
Miranda remembered something important and her expression became serious.
"I was forgetting," he said, with a slight tremor in his voice. At any moment John Bell will come looking for me to go to work. You have to get out of here before I see you.
Oscar frowned, feeling that time was running out.
"Okay," he replied, getting up from his chair. We'll see you later, Miranda.
He paused for a moment, looking into her eyes as if he wanted to engrave her image in his mind. I knew that every second counted.
As he headed for the exit, a mix of determination and worry filled his chest. This visit had clarified many doubts; Not only was he determined to help her, but he also felt an urgent need to protect her.
Oscar left the house, and just at that moment, a black van parked in front of her. Without paying attention, he continued walking, but a shiver ran down his spine when he noticed the sound of the engine turning off.
John Bell had arrived to take Miranda to work. The sky was dyed orange and purple, but the beauty of the sunset could not hide the tension that was brewing. Before getting out of the truck, Jhon noticed Oscar's figure walking away.
—What is that unfortunate man doing here? —he muttered under his breath, frowning.
He put on the handbrake and got out quickly, walking towards Oscar with firm steps.
—Hey, you! Where do you think you're going? —His voice was like thunder that echoed in the air.
Oscar stopped when he heard him, turning around slowly. Seeing Jhon approaching, he knew that things would get complicated.
"What the hell do you want now?" —Oscar responded, crossing his arms disdainfully.
Jhon moved closer, his gaze sharp as a knife.
—Did you not understand the boss's warning? Do you think you can come talk to Miranda at her house? Listen to this carefully: she—belongs—to the—boss," Jhon said, emphasizing each word as if he were marking territory.
"Well, that's what your boss believes," Oscar said, taking a decisive step towards Jhon, challenging him. She doesn't even want him around. Your boss is disgusting.
Jhon gritted his teeth, his jaw tense.
"You better watch your words," he replied, his voice low but threatening.
-That? Are you going to do something? We're not in your club. There maybe your boss has control, but not here. Here I can talk to her. And the warning Brown gave me means nothing to me," Oscar said, challenging every word with a smoldering look.
Leaving Jhon there, Oscar turned and continued on his way, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
Jhon wasn't going to let him go that easily.
—Hey, where do you think you're going? —John said, placing his hand on Oscar's shoulder, trying to stop his advance.
At that moment, anger took over Oscar; his eyes burned with a mixture of rage and release. He turned on his heels and, with a quick and determined movement, kicked Jhon's leg, causing him to lose his balance. Without wasting time, he threw a punch straight at his face.
The impact echoed in the air as Jhon fell to the ground, surprised and dazed. Oscar felt a wave of relief; I had wanted to do that to him for a long time. With a mixture of satisfaction and adrenaline running through his veins, he left him behind and left the place.
Jhon stood up slowly, leaning on his knees as he grabbed his face, a stinging burning running through his cheek.
—Why do you have such a hard hand? —he muttered under his breath, frustrated—. He is a disgrace.
Even with his face on fire and latent pain, Jhon composed himself. He knew he had to do his duty, no matter what had happened. With a deep breath to calm down. He had to take Miranda to work, and nothing was going to stand in his way.