The night cold wind seeped into my exposed skin, sending trails of goosebumps all over me. I looked far off in the distance, constantly checking to see if a black or grey car was approaching, but none I recognized passed by.
Sulking in my breath, I tried dialing his number again, but there was no answer, which only got me exasperated. I huffed, kicking the ground with my feet, but a shrill of pain surged through me, my knee throbbing from the abrupt pressure. I groaned silently, berating myself for getting out of control and hurting myself in the process.
“Is he angry at me to the extent that he wants to abandon me?” I murmured, my heart slowly racing in desperation and an immense urge to shield myself from the harsh weather.
I got back into the car, leaning on the headrest, my vision almost betraying me to sleep, but I snapped awake. Sleeping in the middle of the room was a sensible thing to do, especially at nighttime.
I barely registered how the time flew by, but I was certain it had been more than half an hour.
Sighing with one last-ditch effort, I called him again; it rang with several vibrations, still with no response.
“I give up.” I shoved my phone into my purse, automatically settling inside the car, surrendering to his punishment. Because this is the worst punishment I have ever received in my life. Well, bad things hadn’t happened to me before, so I guess this counts as one.
I couldn’t bring myself to walk in the middle of the road and flag down a car; who knows the disguise of a kidnapper, or pervert, or even thugs? I couldn’t risk it. On the other hand, taking a cab without cash to pay for the ride would be quite embarrassing because, in reaching the estate where I live, cabs aren’t allowed in, so how do I get the chance to get inside and retrieve some money?
I waited for God knows how long before I heard the faint sound of engines. I glanced through the windshield, and I spotted his black Aston Martin coming in the distance. The car lights shone into my eyes with such intense brightness that I had to look away; that even annoyed me more. Seriously, was he checking to see if I was alive or something?
Anyways, it looked like he finally remembered me. I thought he abandoned me. I got out of the car, taking my purse along with me.
Walking towards his car, I scrunched my face, feigning rage as I pulled the door open, shoving myself in.
“Well done abandoning me in the cold,” I said cheekily, my annoyance evident as I slammed the door closed. He focused intently on his windshield, not sparing me a glance.
“I’m sorry, my mother was giving me a headache,” he replied, his tone not resembling an apology, instead laced with apathy.
I couldn’t ignore the palpable change that had occurred in him since he discovered my diary; he had been nothing more than cold and distant. No longer treating me like the sweet, innocent Sarah he knew.
My gaze wandered all over him as I admired his features like I always do. His cheekbones poised, his rosy lips that were never a shade off red danced in my eyes. I loved it. Every fiber of him always seemed to shift me to infatuation, and I couldn’t help staring even when he told me not to.
“Stop staring, Sarah,” he finally glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
I looked away, my annoyance resurfacing. “Even if you gave an excuse for picking me up late, I still deserve a proper apology,” I said, not an ounce of fear in my voice.
He didn’t reply immediately, his head tilting back and forth. I found that kind of strange. Does he have an earpiece on, perhaps listening to something? I had never seen him wear that before. My eyes scanned his ear, and I found a piece presumably pinned in there.
“Hello, Mr. Clinton, I said something…” I waved at him, calling his attention.
“I can’t hear you and won’t bother listening to your rambling,” he shot back, his voice stern and provocative.
Now I understood… he thinks I am a pest. Maybe he wore an earpiece purposely on his way here so he could ignore me.
I sulked, twitching my lips and giving the moving scenery a glance. The distant city hummed a music to my ears to make up for the silence in the car.
Not wanting to annoy him further, I decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the ride, which turned out for me as a heart-wrenching realization. Him ignoring me was hurting.
A few distances from reaching the estate, the car suddenly came to an abrupt halt, making us bounce up from our seats.
I turned my gaze to Mr. Clinton, taken aback by the impulse. “What happened?” I asked, searching his face for an answer. He squinted his eyes intently, looking out the windshield, trying to ascertain what the issue was.
The expression on his face turned to that of shock as he hastily got out of the car, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Curious, I also climbed down, striding to the front. My eyes widened when I saw what was before me.
Right there on the ground was a girl; her body lay motionless.
“Hey, are you alright…” Mr. Clinton desperately tugged her hand repeatedly, his voice laced with concern and a hint of fear. “Hey… Get up…”
I stood, not knowing what to do, torn on how to help in this kind of situation. But I noticed there was blood on the ground, which meant it was a minor accident.
I sighed in relief, my body finally urging me to make a move. I crouched down beside Mr. Clinton, who was still doing his best to wake her. Helping him lift her face, I jolted in shock, my hand flinging off her as my eyes widened.
“ERIN!” Mr. Clinton and I called in unison as we exchanged glances.
“What is she doing here…” I asked, jarring her body, trying to wake her.
Mr. Clinton held her shoulders while I held her arms. Her eyes fluttered open, her movements weak and sluggish. She moaned, her voice low and indistinct.
“Erin, can you hear me…” Mr. Clinton cupped her face, her hair a tangled knot falling over her features. She raised her chin, gazing at both of us.
“Sarah… Sir…” She murmured, trying to lift her arm, which I was impeding with mine. I released her, her limbs going limp as they dangled to the ground.
My eyes traveled all over her, realization washing over me. There was not a scratch on her, nor did she appear to have been hit by Mr. Clinton’s car. Well, her body language and behavior showed otherwise; she looked extremely weak and defenseless, her movements sluggish as if beaten to the brink of death.
A rasp sob escaped her lips, her whimper laced with sorrow as her heavy body collapsed onto Mr. Clinton. Her head rested on his chest, her hands wrapping around him as her body shook with fear.
Mr. Clinton responded to her embrace; he wrapped his hand protectively over her, allowing her to sob on his chest. “It’s alright, you’re… safe…” He comforted, but he trailed off on the end of the sentence, unsure of what happened that got her frightened.
“Help me please… don’t abandon me here… please… please…” she sobbed uncontrollably, her gasps raw with emotion.
For a moment, I felt pity for her, my chest tightening as I heard her sobs. I looked at her with sincere empathy, my comforting hand stroking her back.
Then suddenly, her eyes locked on mine. For a split second, I noticed a subtle shift in emotions; the look in her eyes changed.
I blinked, doubting my vision.
In between her sobs, a smirk tugged up the corner of her lips, her eyes squinting in a sly gaze.
What the hell…