The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Fifty-Two

A hand wraps around my upper arm.

When I sense its warm pressure, I wake up in a shock.

"Easy, easy." Frank has come up to my car seat and crouches down next to me. Light of a street lamp illuminates a part of his face; the rest is darkened by the night. He patiently waits until my disorientation ebbs away.

"Where are we? And what time is it?"

Frank stands up and reaches out a hand for me to take. "We're at a safe house. It's midnight."

I take his hand and exit the car. My muscles are sore and my body hurts in different places. I curse mentally when I'm spontaneously being remembered of my past abduction. And the attempted abduction.

We walk to the front door of a small but relatively modern-looking house. The inside is as cold as it is outside, but the white walls make it appear even cooler. I wrap my arms around myself while walking through the living room. Frank instructs me to search for some matches in the kitchen to lighten up the fireplace. While I do so, he turns on the electricity and installs a primitive-looking radio.

I sit down before the fire and let the flames hypnotise me. Soon, I forget the radio is even on. The flames slowly grow bigger and their heath stings on my skin.

I'm curious how much more of the demanding sensation I can tolerate, until Frank comes up to me and my attention shifts partially to him.

He observes me for a couple of moments before he speaks. "What are you thinking about?"

I lightly shake my head, while moving a bit away from the flames, yet not looking away from them. "I don't know. A bit of everything."

We are quiet for awhile.

Frank crouches down next to me. He stretches out his hand and softly pushes a couple strands of hair over my shoulder. It was all tucked away at the beginning of this evening, but the struggle with Jabari messed up my hair and clothes.

"You have a graze on your collarbone." Frank points out.

"Not only on my collarbone." I say back.

Frank inhales deeply before standing up and walking away again. "Let's get you fixed up." He says when he beckons me to follow him to the kitchen.

I almost stumble over my long, ruined dress on my way.

"You don't think you'll be wearing that any time soon, do you?" Frank comments on my red dress.

"I doubt if it will see daylight ever again." I say with some sorrow when I enter the kitchen.

Frank nods and takes a pair of scissors from an ehbo-kit he found in one of the kitchen cabinets. He then gets down on one knee and takes the fiber of my dress between his fingers. "Stay still." He swiftly makes a cut just above knee height, puts down the scissors and in one fluent movement, rips my dress.

"Jeezus, Frank!" The loud tear takes me by surprise, just as the forceful movement. I support myself by laying my hands on Franks shoulders.

He slightly moves his position and rips the fabric until I am left with basically a skirt.

It's much more practicable, yes, but he could've  given me a warning though.

Now I notice all the grazes on my legs; two on the left one, three on the right. I haven't even noticed the cut on the side of my right leg, along with a stream of dried up blood reaching my knee.