Hate You Not

CHAPTER THREE

Malvina
The sun is nearing the horizon, the sky is a beautiful shade of orange and pink, and birds are flying back to their homes. The streets are pretty much empty as everyone is approaching their homes.

       I sigh.  What a lovely evening to be sprawled out in front of a car that looks like it can pay for two of your generations and a man the size of an electric pole, extending his hand towards you.

         The kind gentleman stepped out of the car when  I was busy gawking at it. I glance towards his outstretched palm and gingerly grab it.

He pulls me up on my feet. “Miss?”

I take in his appearance. He looks like someone straight out of some spy movie.  Probably in his early thirties, with short stubble, in a black suit and tie, with his deep brown, slick hair gathered in a bun at the back. I am sure I even catch a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out of his collar. Scary but charming.

        But definitely not my type. Why are you even thinking that? I shake my head and jerk my hands out of his.

“I apologise Miss.” He nods and takes a step back. Now I feel bad for reacting in such a way.

“No! No, that's fine.” Shut up. I bend down to grab my bag. I stuff in the pasta box and zip it close.

      The moment I stand straight a sharp pain shoots up my left leg. I must have probably twisted it. A painful sob leaves my mouth before I clamp it down. I don't want to cry in front of a stranger.

"Are you okay Miss?" The man holds me by my arm and speaks in a gruff but gentle voice that rather than comforting me, sends chills down my spine. But, His jade eyes look concerned.

         I smile awkwardly, "Bad day, didn't see the car coming. I am fine, thank you." I mumble as I slowly backaway . My grip on my bag strap tightens and I take another step back, ready to disappear any moment.

All I want is to watch a nice movie with my brother and eat the damn pasta. Is that too much to ask?

"Are you just going to walk away like that, miss?" he added. His brows pinched together as if judging me.

   "Do you want me to compensate for any damage? But I didn't even touch your car." I ask, confused.

   “Of course not, Miss!” He exclaimed. “ If you will follow me, I will bring you to the doctor. It seems you have hurt your leg.” He then explains calmly  in a  smooth tone with a hint of an Italian accent. I can tell as I hear Mr and Mrs Sutton speak all the time.

        I grip my bag tightly. Getting in a car with a stranger? A big no. The memory of that creepy figure watching me from across the street crosses my mind. To much drama for a day, ain’t gonna add abduction to the list.
When he sees me hesitate, he  looks to his right towards the car, and I follow his line of sight only to be greeted by the tinted glass of the car.

    "Miss, I don't want you to pay me for anything but you have to come with me so you can get your leg checked by a doctor, you must be hurt," he speaks again as if talking to a wounded child.

     “How about, a no?” He looks at me as if I asked for his security number. Either way, I am not going anywhere with him.

I hear the click of the car door and watch someone step out of the car. No way I want to converse with the owner.

     I shake my head, mumble a quick apology, and run away limping, leaving the man in shock and confusion. His problem, not mine.
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  I reach the manor’s back door and pull it open to step inside the long hallway. Fluorescent lamps on the ceilings, emits an orange glow. Did I mention that it was generations old, only renovated from time to time but never changed in the original style?