Wicked Lust

Chapter 13

I stood frozen with my leg ready to hop up on the window to get a better grip to jump out. The man breathed heavily, most likely from all the running and dodging bullets to stay alive. I bit my bottom lip and turned around, hoping to see Zayn even if he'd probably yell at me as if it were my fault that I was kidnapped in the middle of the night in his house. It wasn't Zayn.

"Get down from there right now." The man who had granted me the four minutes growled, pointing up a gun.

My eyes widened and I quickly followed his demands, climbing down and walking over to him with a frown on my face, looking apologetic. The smirk on his face proved otherwise as he put the gun in his back pocket and grabbed my wrist, dragging my forcefully back to the room. I looked down and remembered Zayn in that moment. He'd never give a single damn about anyone and would never let himself be ordered around by anyone. Zayn wasn't afraid of risks and maybe being around him for this long now started influencing my own self. I stared at his back pocket and nervously thought about snatching up the gun, but hesitated thought after thought. As we reached the room again, it was if Zayn possessed my being and forced me to take the risk. I grabbed the gun and shut my eyes tightly, shooting him right in the head. The big man's grip on my wrist fell weak as did he on the floor, swimming in his own little blood lake. I looked around quickly and ran out, heading into different doors to find any exit. I found keys on a table and could spot three cars outside. I wouldn't know where to run off to and probably wouldn't get far if I ran on foot. I took the chance once again and ran to the window, throwing a heavy book from the table to break the glass and jump out. I ran to the cars and tried the first car that was a black 2007 Mitsubishi Eclipse.

"Shit!"

They key wouldn't fit, so I dragged the key across the door to leave a scratch just as a bitter move. I ran over to the next one which looked like 2007 or 2008 red Ford Mustang. The key fit in perfectly to my luck.

"Convertible? Even better." I started the car up and noticed a swarm of men in the rear view mirror chasing to get to my car.

I angrily put my foot on the pedal and drove, already passing two stop signs and a red light. The cars were racing just as fast behind me. They attempted to trap me, but the sudden turns I made three their strategy off. I kept looking in the rear view mirror and didn't see sight of any suspicious car. I stopped at a gas station and sighed, relaxing and closing my eyes.

Somebody tapped my shoulder and I jumped, only to see an old man with a gentle smile plastered on his delicate wrinkled face. I was relieved and looked at him. He made gestures with his hand keeping his excited smile on his face. I couldn't pick out exactly what he had told me, but it had to do with money and directions.

"I don't understand. If you want money. I don't have anything on me." I apologized.

"He says that you're beautiful and if you'd want anything from his shop. He also says if you're trying to run away from here to take this road down, make a left when you see a house with a bunch of graffiti written over it. From there, you head all the way down and the beginning of the highway to head to the next town should be there." A man walked over and explained to me.

He looked around 26, probably wasn't married and worked hard by the sweat on his forehead, oil smeared on his shirt and muscles on both arms. He was attractive and being in lingerie still from last night had me uncomfortable for once. I nodded and started the car again, thanking them both. I drove with his directions and stopped before I got to the exit. I got out of the car and looked around, hugging myself with a lost face. I could leave now and start all over again, maybe a better life would be ahead if I got in the car and drove off, but Zayn kept coming back into my mind. He wasn't exactly boyfriend material, but I liked something about him. He was just..misunderstood, judged so quick and hated so easily. His heart was bitter because it had never had a tender soul to pamper it and heal its wounds, but something convinced me that he could be better if I tried helping him.