The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Thirty-Two (Frank's pov)

Light,

from streetlamps, I think.

It is bright. But it doesn't bother me. I do not get annoyed by it, as I drive out of the garage, still over the phone, nor does it stand in my way. I sense the light as I sense everything else at this moment: insignificant.

My sight, my taste and my touch, they are senseless and numb, because all are flooded by the thought of only one. One, it's existence so extreme, it has been acting as a temporary sense of mine: Giselle.

Somewhere in my head, my perception hears her struggle with someone over the phone. I hear her begging not to take her and I cannot do anything to comfort her without lying or making promises I cannot hold.

Before me lays the road, enlightened by the car's headlights, which doesn't seem to end, no matter how fast I drive. It scares me how afraid I am for her and how extreme I feel the urgency to reach her. It's been over a minute now since she last answered to me, but I can still hear her. I know she's out there, being afraid for her life and I have to get to her.

Just like I got to her when she ran away in the snow and just like I got her back when she was abducted by those bastards the first time.

As I sit in this car's chair and as my hands nervously tighten around the wheel, so I sat waiting in my own car, more than a month ago, while my fingers pierced themselves in another wheel.

**********

She was somewhere in that warehouse, most definitely afraid, if she would be conscious that is.

I quickly found out Giselle Paques was yet another unfortunate victim of Vince Pessoa's human trafficking business. Why couldn't the police come to this conclusion? It's because Pessoa didn't give attention to the girls of wealthy families. He changed his M.O. from poor girls who were living on the street to girls who were going to college, or even high school. Why? I don't know, I can only guess, but maybe Pessoa got in touch with some rich clients. Clients, who want to spend their time with more educated and mannered girls.

It's risky though. Not that many people are going to look for street girls when they get missing, unfortunately. But if a girl from a decent family gets missing, well... that's another story. It sickens me, thinking that one girl's life is more worthy than another one's. Reality is hard.

After days of researching, I finally found a usable address, a place Giselle would be placed before she got shipped away to some rich bastard. So there I sat in my car, in front of that place. I have two options: I could wait for Vince's tough puppets to come back and continue transporting Giselle, and have a chance to finally take them down, with the risk I would be outnumbered and lose the chance to save Giselle's life and that of many other girls. Or I could let this golden chance slip away to maybe take down the whole business, only to save this one girl.

Then I remembered that video of Giselle's piano contest, how she moved and how she smiled. She reminds me of someone special I once knew. I just couldn't risk her life, I have to go in.

So I park my car as close to the warehouse's entry as I think would be least suspicious, I load my gun and I go inside the warehouse. Nothing was locked, I could just walk right inside. Maybe they didn't think Giselle could escape on her own or didn't even consider the possibility of someone finding her. Risky and stupid, but it's a huge advantage for me.

I'm almost one hundred percent sure she is alone in here, as I have been surveilling this place for days. Everyone who entered, also left. I pass containers, piled up on other containers, and take a left turn. Hell, I can't even be sure if she's really here.