As I drove, my gaze never strayed from the road, precisely tracked by my GPS. The destination seemed somewhat remote from the Smith estate - not that I'm averse to exploring new territories, but for the life of me, I couldn't fathom why my father was insistent on aiding this young girl. Could she be the result of some secret fling?
That seems unlikely; she barely looks 15, maybe 16 at a stretch, adolescence written all over her face.
Upon arriving at the address indicated by my navigation system, I spotted her. She sat on a step outside an iron gate.
"Hey you, let's go!" I called out without even exiting my car, just rolled down the window and gestured to her.
She looked around, heaved a sigh, and approached my window after adjusting myself in the seat.
"I'm not going with you. Give me the fare, and I'll take a bus instead," she said, beginning to walk away.
"Fine, then walk," I replied, igniting the engine and leaving her behind. Begging isn't in my nature, but as I reached the corner, my father's call interrupted.
"What?" I answered brusquely.
"Turn around and go back for her," he commanded.
"No, she doesn't want to, so let her legs get worn out. It's all the same to me."
"You have three seconds to turn back or you'll answer to me," his loving paternal tones oozed through the phone.
Exhaling with resignation, I checked my rearview mirror, and there she was walking unperturbed.
I reversed so hastily that she jumped and scurried back in alarm.
A grin of satisfaction crossed my face as I exited my vehicle and approached her.
"What are you doing? ... Stop, let go... You beast, put me down!" she screamed while I hoisted her, her torso slung over my shoulder.
"Just shut your damn mouth; you're trying my patience," I muttered, buckling her in with the seat belt.
"HELP! HE'S KIDNAPPING ME, GOING TO SELL MY ORGANS ON THE BLACK MARKET, HELP!" she screamed like a maniac. I reached into my backpack, pulled out some duct tape, and secured her hands, then silenced her with a piece over her mouth.
"Mmmph, mmm!" the muffled sounds continued as she squirmed.
"Quiet, or I'll put you to sleep," I warned, slamming the door on the tinted windows which concealed the bound woman within.
I got back in and drove off.
"Mmph, mm!" her eyes shot daggers at me.
"I'll untie you if you stop that infernal screaming. I hate shouters."
She nodded agreement.
"Good," I said, peeling the tape from her mouth, only to be rewarded with a sharp bite to my hand.
"Get off, you damn bitch," I snarled as she recoiled, her bite leaving a mark. If she had continued, she might have taken a chunk with her; no one except for Bleer had dealt me pain. And oddly, it wasn't an entirely bad sensation; it was something to feel, which was a rarity for me.
"Bitch yourself, idiot," she retorted angrily. "Untie my hands."
"Who are you, and why does my father want to see to your safety?" I paused. "Could it be... my father is your father?"
"NO! GOD FORBID HAVING A PSYCHOPATH LIKE YOU AS A BROTHER!" she spat, turning away.
"Then speak up, or I'll make you talk."
"My name is Daniela, I'm 19, and that's all you need to know about me."
"19? Are you lying? You look 16. You're my age."
"Yes, I am your age, Alessandro Smith!" she said with an infuriating smirk.
"How do you know my name?" I jerked the car to a halt, sending her lurching forward, her head banging against something.
"If you can't drive, why do you even own a car, you trash!"
"How do you know my name?" I demanded once more.
"Your dad told me, that's how! Now untie me. If you're going to keep driving like that, at least let me guard my head against getting hit."
"Damn it, I don't know why I saved your life."
"I'll always be grateful, but don't kill me in a crash!"
"How should I kill you then?" I pondered as I loosened her bindings, our proximity allowing me to catch her scent; she smelled nice. "You smell good," I observed, locking eyes with her.
"That's because I haven't bathed in a week - imagine if I did regularly..."
Did she just wink at me?
"Stop joking, or I'll tape your mouth shut again."
"Is this how you look after me? Your father said you'd take care of me - does that mean you'll be my guard dog?" she teased, an even wider grin revealing perfect white teeth.
"Only because my father has forbidden me from killing you, or else you'd already be dead. Do not try my patience. Remember, I killed that man; there may be more coming for you, so I won't protect you and I'll have a front-row seat as they cut you to pieces."
"They didn't even know how to use a knife properly, jabbing it poorly in the homeowner's body. And if you're going to kill me, make it in bed..."
Is this woman insane? How does she know those people were novices?
"I mean, I'd rather not die standing; I'd prefer the comfort of my bed. And preferably, make it painless, be gentle. It would be my first time; and I know if you kill me, I can't die again. But there are people who die and come back to life, though. So, if you do kill me, make sure it's a clean cut."
"I think you're mad. I'm not sure if you're being literal or..."
"A pretty kind of mad. And I think you understand me just fine; you're not that ignorant, friend."
She gazed out the window as we headed towards the university... I had never been barraged with so many insults and propositions by one person before, but as we drove to the university, she remained silent until we arrived, which is when I posed the question that had haunted me.
"Who were they to you?" I inquired about the people who had been killed since she referred to them as 'senors.'
"They were nothing to me - ask your father," she replied, stepping out of the car. Alessia and Stefy watched from the entrance, their eyes following Daniela even as she walked past.
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