by Alli Sims
When the van finally pulled to a stop, Samantha's heart beat wildly in her chest. She could hear voices talking as the door creaked open loudly. Samantha began to hear scuffling as women were pulled out of the van, muffled protests filled her ears. The men didn't bother speaking to them. Samantha felt herself dragged from the van. A hand gripped her arm, pulled her along as the sound of heels clicking on the ground filled her ears. The walk wasn't long, before she was shoved to the ground. The hard feeling of concrete bit into her knees, made her wince.
Now what's going to happen? Samantha found herself thinking back to the morning, that feeling in her gut telling her to stay home. Relax. Now, she wished that she'd listened. Samantha could hear voices around her now, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. The language was foreign to her. She felt a shiver of fear work its way down her spine. What would happen next? Refusing to just let her fate unfold, Samantha began wiggling her wrists. She could feel the zip ties digging into her skin, but she would try anything if it even slightly hinted at the chance of getting out of the situation alive.
Fingers worked their way into her hair, yanked her upward. Samantha cried out against the gag. She was pulled to her feet before the blindfold was removed. She squinted against the sudden invasion of light. The men still wore their masks, guns held in their hands. One was pointed right at her chest. In front of her stood a camera on a tripod. The red light glared at her menacingly. Although fear coursed throughout her body, Samantha kept her head held high. She wasn't going to show them how afraid she was. Even if her hands were trembling, even if she felt like fainting at that moment.
A man in front of her spoke a different language as he held up his gun. Samantha wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, shut out the image of her own impending death, but she didn't. She watched him carefully, watched his finger curl around the trigger. If nothing more, she would throw herself out of his way, try to run if she could. Anything was better than the thought that she'd die without a fight.
The action took less than a few moments, but to Samantha it felt like an eternity. The man's finger pulled back the trigger. A smile spread on his chapped lips. Then he was gone. A blur of black moved across the ground until Samantha realized that he'd been tackled by another man. They fought on the ground, as more men filtered into the room. They disarmed the kidnappers so quickly that Samantha was stuck in a daze as she looked on.
The man who had tackled her kidnapper walked over to her. By then, she was trembling in earnest as the adrenaline began to fade away bit by bit and she knew that she wasn't going to die. He pulled out a knife, cut through her zip tie before he removed the gag. Samantha coughed, her mouth dry as she looked at him.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Now I am. I want to get out of here,” she said as she choked back tears.
The man wrapped an arm around her waist. The other women were being helped out too, all of them wide eyed and shaken. Once they reached the outside, Samantha saw that the sun had almost vanished from the sky. No wonder I'm so sore. They had been captives for hours. Still, she was grateful that she was even alive. The man who led her out wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before he took off his helmet and glasses.
Samantha was immediately struck by his deep, blue eyes. They held concern as he looked her over. The set of his mouth was firm with a strong jaw. She couldn't stop gazing at him. He ran a hand over her arms, looking at her closely. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“I'm okay, really,” she said. “The other women were kidnapped too, you know.”
“Yes, but they didn't have a gun pointed directly in their face when I came in. I'm gonna walk you over to the ambulance.”
He again wrapped an arm around her waist, before he led her over to one of the many ambulances with flashing lights sitting on top. The EMT began to look her over, but he didn't move. The man just stood there, waiting until she got the all clear.
“I don't see any injury, aside from some bruising. Of course, I think you should go to the hospital just for the mental strain,” the EMT was saying. It sounded as if he was speaking through water.
Samantha shook her head. “I just want to go home.”
All she could think about was running a hot bath, sinking below the edge of the steaming hot water. Then curling up in her bed to cry herself to sleep. The last thought surprised her, but she couldn't deny that it was what she wanted to do. The pencil skirt and heels were putting pressure all over her body. While she wanted to rest, it was in her own bed that she would do so.
As the EMT insisted, Samantha continued to shake her head. She wasn't going to be persuaded otherwise. Her phone had been taken away by the masked men, but she thought it would be possible at least to get someone to call her a taxi. When she asked the EMT for a phone, he sighed.
“Look, it's policy to take you to the hospital. If you want to go home after that, fine. For now, let us take you in, okay?”
Samantha didn't want to go. She hated hospitals and after the events of the day, she was burnt out. Still, the EMT held out a hand to her. Groaning, Samantha let herself be helped inside of the ambulance where she sat on the cot. The EMT spoke to the man who'd saved her. When they were done, he walked up to her, blue eyes still looking her over.
“We'll be following up, more than likely. Try to get some rest, I know it's been a hard day.”
Samantha nodded. “I'll be fine,” she said, but she was clutching her hands together to stop the shaking. “What's your name?” She asked, surprising even herself.
“Clint. What's yours?”
“Samantha. Thank you, Clint. Thanks for getting me out of there, alive.”
When the doors of the ambulance shut, she sighed. Her stomach was a mess of nerves and spent adrenaline. The EMT watched as she curled up on the cot, before he placed a blanket over her. She didn't know when, but her eyes closed sometime soon after they started off. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was until that moment. In the back of her mind, she wondered about Clint, his face the last thing she thought of before she drifted off.
Samantha spent the night in the hospital, the sound of the beeping monitors around her not enough to keep her awake. The doctor ordered rest, medicine to help her relax, painkillers and an antibiotic. Her wrists were worse than she'd thought and she'd sprained her ankle pretty badly. The scratchy, white gown she'd been given had been uncomfortable at first, but it wasn't long before she was fast asleep again.
Two days passed by. She was still sore, but she didn't want to stay another night. She took her prescriptions and went home to her little apartment. It was odd how something she was sometimes so unsatisfied with looked so welcoming now. She touched the walls, picked up her clothes from the floor. Some part of her had been prepared to never see any of it again.
Samantha ran a bath before she peeled off the clothes from the day before. They were ruined. The shirt and skirt had been torn, one of the heels were now broken. She tossed them into the corner. There was no way she would have ever been able to wear them again anyway. As she slipped into the steaming hot bath, she leaned her head back against the cool porcelain of the tub. A deep sigh left her lips.
As she closed her eyes, the image of a man pointing a gun to her chest made them snap open again. Her breathing was heavy as she sat forward. Trembling took over her body. Samantha climbed out of the tub, gathered the bottle of pills she'd been given when she left the hospital. Her fingers fumbled with the cap before she got it open, she popped one into her mouth. Slowly, her breathing evened out.
Samantha decided that being in the house wasn't what she needed after all, but she wasn't ready to see her friends yet. They had all left messages, her mother had called her non-stop. She wasn't ready for the questions though, the looks of pity and sympathy. There had been enough of that when she was in the hospital, the way the doctors and nurses loomed over her made her feel very small. She didn't care for that feeling.
After she'd slipped
into a pair of jeans and a sunny, yellow blouse, she decided to go to Connect. The coffee shop was a few blocks away, but she didn't mind the walk. It felt good to walk down the sidewalk, see the neighborhood through fresh eyes. She stepped into the little cafe, the heat outside cut down by the air conditioning.
“Iced coffee, please.”
The woman behind the counter took her money. When she walked away to make her cup of coffee, Samantha couldn't help but to think how normal that woman's life was. It made her envious. As much as she wanted to put the entire ordeal behind her, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. It was even all that Heather wanted to talk about. Samantha just wanted to forget. She took the clear, plastic cup from the woman before she wandered over to a table by the window.
The sun was still shining, the sidewalks packed with people as they headed to or from their destinations. Yet, it all felt so surreal to Samantha. She realized that part of it was because of the medicine they'd put her on, but she couldn't put her finger on the rest of it. She sipped at her coffee as she gazed out of the window.
The sound of approaching footsteps was enough to make her jump out of her memories and her seat. She looked up. Standing beside the table, there was a man with deep blue eyes, a strong jaw and she noticed, golden blond hair that was cropped very short to his head. Samantha recognized him immediately.
“You're Clint, right?” She asked.
The man nodded. “Yes, ma'am. And you're Samantha. How are you?”
The woman tried to slip a smile onto her face, but failed. The sadness was so apparent on her face that Clint slipped into the chair across from her. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tissue for her. It was that small act of kindness that made Samantha start to cry. Clint stood up. He walked around the table, slid in next to her as she buried her face in her hands, crying quietly. He hesitated before his hand went to her back. He rubbed at the yellow fabric of her shirt to soothe her.
It wasn't long before Samantha wiped her eyes. She waved him off with the tissue. “I'll be okay, I swear. It's just been a rough couple of days.”
Clint's hands were laced in front of him. “I understand that. It's okay to be overwhelmed with it all, take your time.”
Samantha smiled at him as she wiped her eyes. She was happy that she'd chosen to skip the makeup that morning. As she settled down, she took more of a look at Clint. He was built with hard muscles, a wide chest and thick arms. She could tell his waist was more on the slender side, but that his stomach was just as firm as the rest of him. He was quite appealing with his interested eyes and flaxen hair too. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“What are you doing here?” She asked. “I thought you'd be long gone. Saving the world,” she said with a genuine smile forming on her face.
“Unfortunately, we're still tracking down some remnants of the group that...took you. I won't leave until they're gone.”
Samantha nodded. “Good. I don't want a single woman to have to go through that again,” she said with a s shudder. “I really am glad that you were there.”
They spent the next two hours talking. He didn't once look at her with pity, but asked her about things that had nothing to do with her abduction. For a while, Samantha felt like a regular woman at a regular coffee shop on a Tuesday. When Clint's phone rang, he frowned down at it.
“I'm afraid I have to go. I know it's a long shot, but do you think you'd like to go out sometime? Grab a bite to eat? If you don't want to, I understand. It's probably too soon to be asking anyway...”
Samantha smiled. “I would love to go to dinner with you.”
The grin that covered his face was enough to make Samantha melt. He waved good-bye to her before he was gone. She sighed. In her hands, she held the napkin that he'd scribbled his phone number down on. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. At least it gave her a reason to go and get a new phone.
For a while, the fear that had swam up her throat was gone. Samantha made her way to the electronic store where she brought a phone. She stored his number inside of it before she walked home, a grin on her face. The woman couldn't stop thinking about his eyes or his smile.
As excited as she was, she battled with herself about when to text him. On one hand, she'd always followed the three day rule pretty well. However, now things were different. She kept thinking about how anything could happen, especially in his line of work, so sooner was better. Her patience lasted for two days before she shot him a short, simple text.
It's Sam. I just wanted to say hi.
Samantha didn't know what to type after that so she hit send quickly. Wanting to put it out of her mind, she stuffed the phone back into her pocket. It vibrated moments later. A giddy smile formed on her lips as she slipped the phone back out of her pocket. She paced the living room as she checked the message.
Hi Sam. I get out of here around eight, is that okay?
Samantha could feel the blush rising to her cheeks. She pushed her hair out of her face. Typing quickly, she told him that would be fine. He sent back a few restaurants and she picked one before they decided. Her heart thudded in her chest, but it was such a blissful feeling that she didn't mind.
The place that she picked out wasn't too fancy or casual. Instead, she'd suggested a nice Thai place that she loved. The hard part was deciding what she wanted to wear for the evening. She knew she'd pick a dress, but which one? How should she wear her hair? She vaguely wished she could call one of her friends, but she didn't want to tell them about Clint just yet. It was her secret, she wanted to keep it that way.
By the time seven-thirty approached, Samantha was finally finished getting ready. She wore a black dress that hugged her curves and accentuated her breasts. Since her ankle still throbbed, she swapped her usual heels for a pair of gleaming, black flats. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders in soft curls. For makeup she'd gone as light as possible. He already knew what she looked like on a bad day, she didn't think she needed to worry all that much about make up.
As she was fastening on a pair of silver, stud earrings, there was a knock on her door. Samantha stole one last glance at herself in the bathroom mirror before she smiled. Her fingers slipped over the switch, turning out the lights before she walked into the living room. There were butterflies in her stomach as she approached the front door, her hand gripping the knob tightly. One last breath was drawn in before she pulled the door open quickly.
Clint stood at the door with a flower in his hand. It was a single, pink carnation. She had vaguely mentioned it in passing when they saw each other at the cafe. Surprise lit up her face. She didn't think he'd remember that, or any of it for that matter. It had just been a casual chat.
“Good evenin',” he said with a southern accent she found amazingly charming. “Do you mind?” He asked as he held out the flower.
Samantha shook her head. Clint walked closer to her. As he slipped the flower into her hair, she could smell his cologne, something muted, but seductive. She felt that old blush working its way through her body until she was sure she was red all over. If she was, either Clint paid no attention or he didn't point it out. Instead, he held out a arm for her to take.
“Right this way.”
Samantha locked up her apartment before she followed him down the stairs to a black, pick-up truck. He helped her into the cab before he took his place behind the wheel. As they drove, her eyes roamed over him. He looked handsome in a dark blue button down shirt and black slacks. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he drove, the warm air pushing through the window as they went.
Taste of Thai was packed when they arrived, but Clint didn't seem to have any trouble getting them a table. He pulled her seat out for her before taking his place across from her. The restaurant was filled with the aroma of cooking food that made Samantha's stomach growl. Music filled the space as well as laughter. Samantha smiled. She was happy that she'd chosen such a busy place. Seeing everyone look so happy made her feel better for a little while.
/> They ordered their food, spring rolls and chicken satay, before they smiled at each other. Clint looked so confidant that it still made her feel a little nervous. She hadn't gone out on a date in years. She liked spending time with herself, but she had to admit, it was better sharing it with someone.
“You look really beautiful,” Clint said as he gazed at her.
Samantha blushed. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. Does your family live here too?”
Samantha was happy when Clint took the lead in the conversation. She wasn't generally shy, but his piercing gaze made it hard to concentrate. The smoothness of his voice comforted her. She soon found herself relaxed, the smile on her face easy as they discussed their families and lives. Clint was mostly quiet about his job, but she'd expected that. He did however seem to have a story for everything else.