I had always hated storms, but that’s not what had me shaking from head to toe. It was an unknown man hovering over me, yelling. His face, shadowed by the hood he wore, was unknown to me, but it was his eyes that made me unable to move.
They reminded me of storm clouds.
Dark, swimming with varying shades of grey, and full of danger. His eyes alone had me drowning in fear. Paralyzed, all I could do was shake and mumble. My mind was screaming for help, but my voice refused to work.
The man became more agitated by the second.
I tried with all my might to stop him, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I was lifted from the ground, held tightly against him, as he carried me off to only God knew where.
Tears, my only defense, now.
I prayed this wouldn’t be how my life would end, suffering at the hands of a brutal man. Only time would tell. If it were to be my last moments, I hoped they would be quick and painless.
My body began to come alive, and the pelting rain was painful against my skin. It was surprisingly cold for this time of year. It didn’t seem to bother the man who was taking us to what felt like my final destination.
His grip became tighter, almost painful; I managed to cry out. I jumped at the sudden movement when he forcefully kicked in a door, whisking us both inside. When he slammed the door shut with his foot, I almost fell out of his grip.
He quickened his pace.
I fell from his grasp and felt a rush of weightlessness as I landed on the plush cushion. It took me a moment to realize that it was a cozy couch; the man faded from view. My head felt like it would explode, but I knew I needed to find a way out. I sat up, scanning the room I was in.
I was still shaking; it was more than fear.
I was soaked to the bone and freezing.
It surprised me. The room wasn’t lavish, but it was nice. This cabin didn’t seem like the kind of place one would meet their end. Nice didn’t mean safe, so I tried to run for it. I didn’t make it far. He was right there. Once again, I was in his arms. This time he kept me from slamming into the floor.
“Easy now,” he whispered, helping me back to the couch.
I could do nothing else. Vertigo had taken hold, intensifying the throbbing in my skull. My vision blurred, and I felt faint. Against my better judgment, I slumped further onto the couch. For a third time, now, he was hovering over me. This time his voice was lower, and he was covering me with a blanket. I tried to make out the words he spoke, but I was lost in his eyes.
A calm to the storm, this go around.
They looked softer and more soothing than before.
My fear began to ease, and my body slowly relaxed. I felt it then. Fire under flesh. As the numbness began to fade, pain ignited and swam through me. I tightened up; a scream escaped my throat.
“Shh…” the man whispered, “you’ve been through a lot, I think. Try not to move too much.”
I couldn’t help but get caught up in his gaze once again.
The hood and jacket were gone, revealing more rugged features. His dark, rain-soaked hair melded some of his small curls across his face. I could feel his body heat and could smell the lingering cologne; he was so close.
Not predator, protector.
My fear began to fade as he disappeared once more, followed by running water, the striking of matches, and natural gas.
Was this man about ot cook?
Was he hungry after his daring rescue?
I maneuvered my way into a sitting position and glanced in his direction. He was standing in front of a stove. He reached for a cabinet door and froze. His voice was low and calm, but he didn’t hide the danger laced in his words.
“If you can, I need you to get to the floor. Preferably behind that couch.”
My anxiety rose.
I stared at him for a moment, then at the window he was facing. I leaned over for a better look but saw no signs of danger. The rain was falling hard. Thunder and lightning shook the small cabin, but nothing that would cause such alarm.
“Why?”
I was a bit unsteady on my feet when I stood, staring out that window. Pelting rain was all I could see. Why such alarm over rain? I couldn’t stop myself from questioning him.
“Are you worried about the storm?”
He never took his gaze from that window. “It’s a hurricane, not a storm. That in itself is dangerous, but that’s not what I am talking about.”
I interrupted him, a little perturbed that he was being so cryptic and scaring me.
“Ok, well, then what are you talking abo—?”
It was then I saw what had his body tight and his words cut short. I didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he pulled me to the ground, shielding me with his body. His voice echoed an answer I saw a few moments ago.
“There are about five men outside, and it’s not the coast guard. They don’t usually carry guns for rescue."
My heart raced as I tried to make sense of all of this. I didn’t have time to think before chaos erupted, and I was helpless to stop it. My protector jumped from the ground, pushing a kitchen chair under the front doorknob to prevent entry. Or delay it at least. He slammed the curtains shut, then hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me off to a small bedroom.
“Stay right here,” he ordered as he set me in a small closet and shut the door.
I watched through the slats of the closed door as he pushed the bed against the bedroom door, adding a small dresser and nightstands to ensure it was too heavy to move. Then he stood facing the window.
Watching, waiting.
I jumped when I heard someone kick in the front door, followed by heavy footfalls and loud voices. My protector slipped out the window and disappeared into the rain. I sat shaking once more, terrified of what was to come.
How could he leave me alone?
The cabin, as small as it was, wasn’t hard to figure out where I was hiding. I could hear them trying to push the bed away from the door. The bedframe scraped across the floor as they slid it inch by inch with each shove. Their voices were loud enough to hear, but not enough to make out the words they spoke. However, with each heave against the blocked room, I could hear the frustration and desperation in their voices.
More commotion just outside the door.
It sounded like fighting now.
Some of the men kept working the door. I knew when they broke through. The bed screeched across the floor, the nightstand tumbling right into the door I hid behind as if to pinpoint my location.
I held my breath.
The door burst open, and I was grabbed.
I screamed and fought as best I could, but they were no match for me even if I weren’t unsteady on my feet and on the verge of passing out. They were built like war machines. Tall, thick, and full of enough muscle to break anything they laid their hands on.
Momentarily, I broke free and landed on the ground, kicking at the attackers and fending them off. I wasn’t as successful as I wanted to be. Before long, I was staring at the angry, distorted faces of two men. Through their hoods, only their eyes could be seen.
Black as night.
I could feel their intentions rolling off them, their laughs laced with eagerness. They grabbed me and tossed me across the room. I landed just under the open window.
Gunshots rang out, and I feared I was the target.
I curled into a ball and prayed.
As I rocked back and forth, I felt hands grab at me, and instinctively I fought them.
“Easy now…” came the same words as before.
I knew I was safe, but I didn’t understand how. They were right there. I had been caught. How did he survive?
“It’s ok. You’re safe. They are gone,” his soft, soothing voice whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine.
I stopped rocking and started crying, letting it all out. The fear, the exhaustion, the helplessness, and God’s answered prayer for protection.
I was spent, and I didn’t even know what was going on. Again, I was carried to the couch, now back in its rightful place. Albeit not in the condition it was in before. Large rips revealed someone had taken a knife to it, maybe in an attempt to take someone’s life.
I couldn’t think about that right now.
It was too much.
My protector was back at the stove as if he hadn’t just saved my life, cooking something. Though I was safe, I found it to be very agitating.
How could he be so…calm?
When he turned, I had planned to let him have it. Grill him for answers on what was going on, who wanted him dead so badly that I was dragged into the midst of it and almost killed? However, when I saw the steaming cup of what smelled like coffee, I lost my fire. I was so cold and hurt everywhere, and I wanted that cup of hot goodness. I needed it.
That’s when I saw him smile.
It stopped me dead in my tracks, though I wasn’t going anywhere. All I could do was stare. His smile lit up his entire face despite the lack of light in the room. It was as if his entire frame smiled with him. His shoulders weren’t as stiff, his movements were slow and purposeful, and even his hands looked steadier. He walked over to me, and he looked as if he had known me his whole life.
He was no longer nervous and fearful as he moved quicker and more assured. Perhaps he knew what I didn't. I was safe, and he was not a threat. I smiled back at him as he sat down and handed me the cup of coffee. The warmth from the cup swam through my hands and up my arms, joining the heat in my chest after I took the first sip.
It was glorious.
Fire chasing ice.
I sat just enjoying the warmth chasing away the cold and some of the soreness. The coffee was like being engulfed in a body-sized heating blanket, making me cozy and warm, chasing away the fatigue that held me in chains when I first awoke. That feeling was shattered when my protector spoke a few minutes later.
“Gather as much strength as you can.”
I stared at him over the cup. “Okay, but why?”
I watched as he glanced out the open windows. “Because they will be back soon, and they won’t be alone.”
Fear had me in a grip and refused to let go.
They were coming back.
As I glanced around, I realized I saw no bodies, no blood, nothing that would’ve suggested a fight to the death. Only upturned furniture, showing a brawl had broken out. Nothing in the room indicated they were defeated, only run off. He was right; they would be back. It didn’t take a genius to know the natural order of things. In this situation, it meant they would come back with reinforcements.
This time they wouldn’t have the element of surprise, but we would be severely outnumbered.