The Handsome Devil

Chapter 4 - Tortured

Hardly a minute passed since the tray hit a ground when the door burst open and she found herself face to face with a man. Shock ran through her body when she realised he had no ski mask on. It was quite some time since she has seen anyone's face.

Her eyes immediately jumped to his hair. The same slicked back hairstyle. Is it possible this was Max? She quickly scanned over the tattoos on his neck and face before hesitantly meeting his glare.

It was obvious he was livid, judging by the way he took a drag from his cigarette and threw it on the ground (picture on top).

For a minute, no words were exchanged as they engaged in starring contest. Despite his murderous look and the circumstances, Deya had to admit he was handsome. The sarcastic dark blue eyes reminded her of an ocean. Deep. Wild. Hiding a danger underneath.

As she devoured the sight in front of her, the man brought himself to speak at last.

"That wasn't very nice, Deya." His eyes quickly glanced to the mess she made. His hands were clenched in fists and she could see the muscles on his jaw tighten. Yet, his voice was as calm as if he was scolding a little child.

That's when she realised he used her name. How? She was sure she didn't tell him. And, given her lifestyle in the last two years, she carried no form of identification whatsoever.

Her eyes slowly widened in shock. We must have met before. Isn't it what he implied at the garage? But why did she not remember him? There was no way she could have forgotten a face like that, was there?

Even though, there seemed to be something familiar about his voice.

Was he masked the first time they've met? Thousands of questions popped in her mind, none of which she had answers to.

"You know my name." she whispered to herself, getting an amused chuckle in response.

"Yeah, your friends in Brixton were so kind to share it with me."

Deya cursed silently. She did not remember half of that night, including telling them her name. What else did she share with them?

"I told you I'll find you." Max noted as he slowly approached her and crouched down to unlock her feet.

At his words, her face paled. What was he talking about?

The moment her legs were free, Deya got up and stumbled on the other side of the table. While she knew it would hardly prevent him from hurting her, she felt the need to put a distance between them. His face held a knowing smile and she felt vulnerable not remembering the interaction they supposedly had.

"There's just one thing I can't figure out." he spoke again without acknowledging her actions.

"What were you doing at the garage?" He stood up and took few steps in her direction.

"Why would you come back?" he fired again without letting her answer first.

"C-come back?" the girl stuttered, caught of guard.

He thinks I was looking for him?

"Did you, perhaps, change your mind about the offer I made you?" His eyes lighted up with curiosity.

"Offer?" Deya mouthed the words inaudibly in disbelief. It was as if she was playing a game no one told her the rules of.

Max's eyes narrowed in response and he studied her face for a trace of lie.

"You don't remember, do you?" he said in teasing voice, obviously enjoying keeping her in the dark.

"Well, I shouldn't be surprised. You were pretty out of it." He added laughing half heartedly and moving closer.