Perilous

Chapter Four: The Inevitable

The bitter breeze surged through the window of his driver's seat, whisking away strands of my hair and irkingly tickling the surface of my face. My twitching hands were secured between the rough, old leather seat and my heathered sweatshirt, ceaselessly voicing my discomfort by the rattle of the chains. The eerie silence was disrupted by his radio frequently, the muffled, robotic voices communicating with each other monotonically as were furthered into the city. My curious eyes would leer through the tinted back window, reposing at the sight of my clouded headlights still trailing behind us.

That faulty car had instilled this attachment to me the moment I drove it from Montreal, likely due to being the only entity to provide stability. Finding a job in a congested, overpopulated city was transparently one of the most challenging tasks I had ever achieved. And during that tiresome struggle, my car bestowed a place to sanction all things necessary-the role an apartment would usually possess.

"Stay in your seat," His vehement, aggravated voice ordered, inducing this panic without my blood. My parted lips clamped shut and I hastily snapped my widened eyes towards his rear-view mirror, the resentment within his glaring, brown eyes. The anger issues surely relied in his seething intensity, the question being, 'Why the fuck did he become a cop?' Was it just for Leo's gang? I couldn't bear to endure his strong gaze for anything more than a moment, peering away towards the darkened window as the street lights flickered inside.

The community we traveled through was inconclusive up until the beaming, pink donut sign drifted by, the familiarity instantly pumping through my brain. We were fastly approaching my neighborhood, and although there was a slight unlikely chance of him taking me home, there was another location in my neighborhood that was likely the destination.

"Where are you taking me?" I gingerly inquired, the answer buried beneath my hopes as we sped past my apartment complex. Although I possessed the qualities of a witless bitch at times, the question wasn't genuinely for answer, but rather a fruitless confirmation. His deep, mahogany eyes connected with mine again, his thick brow propping upwards with belittlement as he mutedly criticized my words.

My anxiety levels immediately skyrocketed after this minor exchange, consuming his confirmation with a trembling sigh and the bouncing of my legs. The cursive, sparkling red letters beamed into the interior of the car, my swelling chest revealing just how hastily I was breathing. The restaurant had been the only positive thing in my life-aside from that near-death with Luci-and for its stature to diminish into a emblem of fear, it was depressing.

He briskly pulled into the front parking spot, the surrounding areas unoccupied and desolate due to the late hours. This inactivity was majorly unnerving as there was no one to hear my pleads or even my impending death, hoping to God that if I was going to die, my parents wouldn't have to dwell over if I was alive or not.

I would deem that my worst fear precisely because of my mother's condition.

The door beside me was jerked ajar by Officer Moretti's snappy persona, his aggressive hands clasping onto my forearms and impatiently pulling me outward. The frigid air blanketed the entirety of my body as he harshfully gripped onto the clamps of the cuffs, digging them impossibly deeper into my cold wrists. A pained hiss escaped my lips, mutely voicing my discomfort towards my pissed off captor as I glared back towards his challenging eyes, the fog coming out of his nose from the chilled temperatures.