I Won't Let You Die Angel

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I Won't Let You Die Angel Page 4

by Neal Goldy


  One got up way earlier than I expected and fumbled inside his jacket. I yanked his hand away, spun in a half circle, grabbed his shoulder, and toppled him on the ground hard. God he was heavy!

  Meanwhile, another was speaking on his walkie-talkie, probably asking for re-enforcements. Where did that come from? I didn’t waste any time and snatched it away from him, so he refrained. We entangled ourselves in some sort of wrestling match; thank God he was not that much heavier or more muscular. But still I was outmatched. He was about a foot taller than me. I took advantage of it and stooped lower to kick him in the guts. He let out a hard snort, but remained unfazed. I quickly rummaged through his coat and found what I was looking for.

  I pulled out the gun, all the while giving him hard kicks in the same place with precision. You have no idea what impact one point can infuse.

  I turned around, knowing for sure the other goon would be reaching for his own gun. And he did exactly that, quickly regaining composure from his head concussion. I remembered my training. “You only have one shot, make it count.” I pulled the trigger, and the bullet scratched his heart as intended. I ducked and turned back to shoot the other one, first in the leg, and when he sank to the ground, straight at his head. His eyes rolled up and he died instantly.

  I got up quickly and searched for Neil. A few yards away, he was wrestling with a blonde attacker. One of them was sprawled on the ground, his neck twisted at an abrupt angle. Neil was losing the battle; Blondie was choking him now. I recalled all my training and shot straight at his head. He collapsed in an instant.

  Neil looked at me with such a shocking glance that I could have pulled the trigger on him, and he would have welcomed it without even blinking. But I was exhausted, and I couldn’t bring myself to hurt Neil. Don’t ask me why.

  Neil got over his shock and his eyes lit up with admiration.

  “What? You didn’t really think you were the only one with skills here, did you?

  Come on, we gotta leave.” I said proudly.

  He was fixed in his place. “How did you….?

  Did you just shoot three men to death with absolute accuracy?” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “And wrestled two of them first, don’t forget to mention that. You may add that in my resume. “Now move your ass. One of them called for re-enforcements.”

  “Wait! I need to know who’s behind all this. Maybe we could catch one.” The way he said “we” made my heart flutter.

  “Look, Hero, you might enjoy fights and being beaten up, but I certainly don’t. And I surely don’t enjoy killing.” I dropped the gun in disgust.

  A few men in black became visible in a faraway location. I counted; there must be at least twenty. “And now we’re going to run for our lives.” I grabbed his hand and together we sprinted over the hedge and maneuvered our way in the dark towards the exit.

  I finally relaxed when we were safely tucked inside a motel room. I sank on the bed, completely drained. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was. Neil collapsed beside me, kicking his shoes with a projectile motion into a corner.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “What! Do you think you are the only one drained? Men need to rest, too.” With that, he pulled the covers over him and closed his eyes.

  “Hey!!! I’m not sleeping in this bed with you.”

  “Why? Do you think I’ll take advantage of you? How archaic. Don’t fret Angel. I don’t go where I’m not invited.”

  “I don’t care what you say. We are not sleeping in the same bed. Period”

  He tossed me the covers. “Then sleep on the floor. I couldn’t care less.”

  I looked at him in awe. “You are so not a gentleman. You’re asking a lady to sleep on the floor while you enjoy the exquisite comfort of a bed.”

  “Lady? Who? Who’s the delicate Cinderella here? The girl in front of me took out more men in a fight than me.

  I’m fully assured of your toughness, darling.”

  I slammed the pillow in his face and settled myself on the cold, hard floor. Several attempts to take a nap were thwarted by my jangled nerves. Today, I killed three persons. Surely, it was entirely self-defense. They attacked us in the first place. But I took three lives today. That was not me. That was not Janet. All the harsh, bone-cracking training I endured was only to learn to protect myself, not to kill.

  This is how the practicality of life deviates from reality. I took a deep breath, relaxing my mind. “Try to meditate, Janet. You are not a murderer,” I consoled myself. “You are not a murderer, you saved your life. More than yourself, you saved Neil’s life too.”

  I murmured “Om” in my mind. Peace.

  “Where did you learn all those skills? I thought you were a mini-scientist?” inquired Neil suddenly.

  For a second, I thought about pretending to be asleep. But again, I so needed to talk to someone. I went with the flow downstream, “Took training, learned all defensive and offensive techniques I could manage between my studies, including swordplay.”

  “Well, your aim was awesomely precise. A slight falter and the bullet would have pierced me.”

  “My instructor told me that I’m best with guns, but I could’ve thrown a knife with equal precision.”

  By the way, thanks for the compliment.”

  He chuckled, “I am not complimenting you, Angel. You got the wrong idea.”

  I scowled, “Oh really, Mr. Monster?”

  “I have a name.” He retorted.

  “So do I.” I gave it back.

  He whistled slowly, “But why did you go through such an intense program? You are not an athlete, I suppose.”

  Please don’t tell me you are some CIA’s secret alias agent.”

  I laughed, “No, I’m not.”

  “Then why? Why go through all this trouble? You could have creatively enjoyed all those hours frying someone else’s mind with more theories.”

  I sighed. “I had my reasons.” Now the conversation was drifting in a direction I didn’t want to explore. I didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me,” he asked cautiously.

  “No”, I haven’t told anyone. Even mom has no idea. I wish I could share it with anyone. The weight of these things crushes me sometimes. I could talk to Neil. He would listen, and then he’ll be out of my life one day. No harm done.

  “Someday, maybe!” I replied laconically.

  “Someday,” he murmured.

  Then silence prevailed. I hate silence; I guess I’ve it mentioned earlier. Maybe he slept, I decided.

  I recalled the intimate moment we shared earlier. It seems far earlier. He was going to kiss me, and what horrified me that I was ready to give myself in to it. I didn’t restrain him. He would have kissed me and I would have let him. Hell! I would have kissed him back.

  I’ve kissed before. But I never felt this much euphoria over someone. I strangled my brain. No!!! I tried to shake away the mental picture. But no matter how hard I tried, his smile, his heartfelt laugh, his hands on my waist, his lips--everything kept popping into my senses.

  Neil’s next question startled me.

  “If you are that meticulous, then why didn’t you try to tackle me before? Not that I mind you not trying. You couldn’t have given much of a fight while fleeing out the window or in the street.”

  I pondered the question. “A- In the street, I was completely drained and in shock. B- I would have tackled you earlier if you hadn’t had that stupid gun of yours always within reach the entire time. C- My skills usually get triggered during the most-deadly, life threatening situations. I’m a simple girl, not some trained ninja. I have my moments of weakness.”

  The point D I was not telling him was what I didn’t want to admit either, that every time I was near him, I was overwhelmed by his close proximity.

  “You know, you had bullets left in the gun. You could have easily shot me. Or you could have just left me wrestling with that man and run away,” He asked,
intrigued.

  “Yeah!” I just said that, unable to voice more. Now that he did mention it, I realized that I had my golden chance. But I don’t know and can’t understand why I stuck with him.

  “But you didn’t,” his voice was more questioning than stating.

  “But I didn’t.”

  With that, my eyelids became heavy and I drifted off.

  Chapter 7

  I was enjoying the sight of fireflies over the pool, casting shadows of light in the water. I always enjoy fireflies. They always shine; always shine for me; unlike the stars which are so, so far away. I sat down, half dangling my legs in the water, enjoying the peaceful whirlpool created by them.

  I quickly got myself busy calculating the diameter and circumference of the concentric circles, when someone forcefully pushed my head under the water. I gasped for breath and struggled in vain. I maneuvered my hand and found a wine glass within reach. I grasped it and smashed it on his face. His clench loosened and I sneaked some air inside my now exploding lungs. But before I could escape, he lifted me up and threw me in the water. I sank halfway to the bottom; couldn’t swim, and couldn’t breathe.

  I paddled my legs and arms fruitlessly, I was drowning. I tried to cry for help, no one came; no one heard me. I was helpless….. Someone save me…… Someone save me, please…………

  I don’t want to die…….. Please…..

  Someone was shaking my shoulders violently. “Janet…. Janet wake up.”

  My eyes fluttered open. I was panting and sweating hard. Neil helped me into a sitting position and patted my back gently. I clutched his shirt tightly in my fist, unable to let go of the one thing that was keeping me from drowning. His other hand was tangled in my hair, massaging my head.

  “Calm down, Janet. What happened?”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  His hand paused, his voice thickened, “You’re not going to die, Angel. I promise.”

  I looked into his blue eyes and a feeling of warmth spread over me, making me feel secure for the first time in years. I let his shirt go meekly. He looked away for a second and helped me up. Only then did I notice the carry out bags.

  “You went shopping?

  Here I was, having the nightmare of my worst fears and you went shopping,” I barked.

  I certainly didn’t want to shout like that. He was not my chaperone. He could do whatever he wanted, and, in fact, I was supposed to obey him. But after last night’s little adventure, I dreaded being in close proximity hence the outburst.

  “Well, I don’t know your definition of shopping, but I call this arranging for necessities, not shopping, unless you want to stick with your Minnie Mouse look. Not that I mind, it fits you perfectly.”

  I flushed and then regretted it, “No, thank you. I’ll do exactly what you say. So, did you get something in my size or did you assume I’d wear your clothes again.”

  “Here”, he tossed me a bag. I dug in and found black trousers and a white T-shirt with ‘I love California’ written in red with a red heart in the middle.

  “Well, it’s not that bad. I see at least the shirt is not oversized. But I think I’ll pass.”

  “Go ahead, try it first.” He gestured towards the bathroom. I turned. “And just for your information, don’t bother prying open the window, it’s sealed. I checked.”

  I looked over my shoulders and shot him my best “I have no idea what you’re talking about” look. He did that one eyebrow thing again, and smirked. “What? Did you think I was not aware of your little endeavor back there? Just try not to waste the toiletries this time, please.”

  Oh crap!! He knew! In my mind, I did all sorts of torture on his bound and helpless body. But in reality, I just shrugged and peeked inside the bathroom. It was ordinary, but it had a bathtub and I felt more relaxed.

  When I finally stepped out after a whole forty-five minutes of beauty and bath, he was there, sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling on his phone and smiling. God! His smile! He was wearing the same “I love California” T-shirt and black trousers.

  “Whoa…. We look like some newly married couple, deeply engrossed in love and enjoying our honeymoon in a creepy motel.”

  He looked up surprised, “You’re only eighteen. Not that I want to complain about the honeymoon part.”

  I stared at him, “Whoa there, Angel, I was just commenting on our similar outfits here,” I said, sitting across from him.

  He flashed me a crooked smile. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” He whispered, leaning closer. My mind desperately shouted instructions to fall back, but his eyes kept me immobilized.

  “Angel? Don’t you want to quote some of your theories and explanations? Or should I encourage you?”

  That’s it. Snap out of it. I ducked sideways just in time as he propelled himself forward.

  “Dodged you,” I beamed.

  “Lucky you, Now about last night……”

  Uh huh….. Not about the almost kiss, please…. Not about that…. I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Did you recognize any of those men back there? Do they ring any bell?”

  I sighed at my close reprieve. “No, why would I? They looked like your brethren, must be your unfaithful friends.”

  “They were not my ‘friends’. Did your mind fail to register that one of them almost subdued me?” He replied defiantly.

  “Subdued? You are so arrogant. That Blondie would have killed you if not for me. At least pretend to be grateful. And if your mind had not fallen into short-term-memory-loss, you would remember, I was their prime target. Did you fail to notice the red laser spot booming over my heart?” I shot back.

  “Well then, I conclude that someone has betrayed us. Someone made his intention clear that you are not to reach Majestic, hence the attack.”

  “Do you ever ponder the possibility that it is because of you? Or do you just presume to be unharmable by anyone.”

  He shrugged at my conjecture. “Come on! It’s time for your little field trip to hell.”

  I made a face, “I’m hungry.”

  “I don’t care. Come on.” He held the door open. I strolled past, stomping a foot hard on the floor.

  I stared at our ride open-mouthed. A black BMW was looming in front of me.

  “B-M-W…. What are you? A billionaire?”

  He chuckled, “Well, we don’t have to pay taxes.”

  I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, yeah, at least I’ll enjoy the highway to hell.”

  Once inside, I couldn’t help admiring the posh interior. I traced my fingers along the edges and found myself handcuffed. “What the hell! What is that for?” I asked angrily.

  “Did you actually think chitchatting with me would confuse me into believing your submission? If you pry your memory a little, you’d remember that you did promise me to escape, given the chance. I’m just curbing that chance.”

  “I swear; I’ll strangle you the moment these get off if you dare blindfold me too.” Well done, Janet. Go ahead; give him the idea, stupid fool.

  “Don’t fret Angel, I was not going to. You already know where we are.” He had this mischievous glint in his eyes that spoke otherwise. And then, he did blindfold me.

  “Huh….. Mr. Monster, I promise you today….. Your death will be on my hands.”

  Almost two hours passed in silence. I felt nauseous and infuriated.

  “Can you at least switch on some music? I hate silence and it’s not that I can do some sight-seeing.”

  “No”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like music.”

  “What kind of person are you?” I shrieked.

  “A dangerous one!”

  “Ha! Bite me.”

  “You don’t need to encourage me, Angel. I can bite in several places and I bet you’ll love it.”

  That slammed my mouth shut. If it were someone else commenting like this, I’d have snapped. But to my absolute horror, I flushed. How could someone like him make me blush?

>   I decided. I was going crazy with each passing hour. Neil’s company was infectious. By the way, how old are you, Neil?

  “Huh?” inquired Neil.

  Uh huh, I realized, I spoke out loud. “How old are you?”

  He chuckled, “Why do you wanna know? You have a thing for me?”

  “In your dreams.” I snapped. “I was just making conversation. I am – um – claustrophobic in a way. Darkness and silence unnerve me.”

  “You know, Angel; you keep informing me about your strengths and weaknesses. That’s not a smart move.”

  “That’s why I’m a simple college girl and not some underworld princess.” I retorted, but kept my mouth shut for the rest of the ride, pondering his age.

  Chapter 8

  “Are we in Diagon Alley?” I stared at the alley ahead of us. Is this even America? “I thought that was in London.”

  “What?” Neil asked frustratingly.

  “Well, you must be aware about my thing for fantasy. Harry Potter is my favorite hero. Ah, no, actually Percy Jackson equally qualifies.”

  He stared at me as if I’d spoken in Sanskrit.

  “Never mind, I don’t expect you to read novels and especially fantasy after all. You must love the ‘20 most wanted criminals’ type of books.”

  “Actually, Hermione and Annabeth both have much more wits than your so called heroes.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “You’ve actually read those books.” I was surprisingly glad. Neil was the first person ever who appreciated my reading genre. None of my friends could digest the fact that as a science student, I could actually believe in fantasy.

  “You might not be as old as I assumed,” I said excitedly.

  “What did you guess? Thirty?”

  “Not thirty.” I squinted through the corner of my eyes. He frowned.

  “You’re not thirty? Right? You don’t look like it.”

  “No.” He said blandly.

  “Then?”

  “Then what?”

 

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