Unforeseen Turn
Athena's pov
Amid the suffocating darkness of the alley, my futile attempts to break free echoed as I kicked and punched, each effort met with grim resistance.
Desperation fueled my instincts, and in a defiant move, I sank my teeth into the hand that sought to silence me, a scream of pain escaping the intruder's lips.
Relief surged as I seized the opportunity to kick the assailant, sending him recoiling momentarily. But the shadows cast by the dimly lit alley concealed another threat—this time, a menacing figure emerged, wielding a knife and gripping my neck.
"Get off me!" I screamed, anxiety escalating, and the chilling truth of the situation caused my breath to grow shallower.
The second man, indifferent to my pleas, callously remarked about the potential use I held for them. Fear and desperation welled up, manifesting as tears in my eyes. The alley became a labyrinth of ominous shadows as I fought against the tightening grip on my neck.
As despair threatened to take hold, a sudden release of pressure on my neck brought a wave of relief .
When I turned around though, I saw Dante. Like a swift and decisive savior, yanked the assailant away in an instant. A satisfying thud reverberated through the narrow confines as Dante's fist met the intruder's face, sending him careening into the unforgiving wall.
Undeterred, the remaining assailant menacingly advanced. Before the full danger could register, Dante acted again, pulling me protectively behind him.
With visceral intensity, he unleashed a relentless barrage of punches, each strike landing with calculated precision, echoing through the alley.
The sounds of the confrontation—sharp punches, the dull thud of bodies colliding, and my own gasps of terror—created a chaotic symphony. The second assailant, now almost motionless on the ground, offered a stark contrast to Dante's controlled fury.
Terrified yet strangely comforted, I watched as Dante's eyes flickered toward me—an unspoken acknowledgment of my vulnerability in that moment. Without hesitation, he closed the distance, rushing towards me just as my balance wavered. His strong arms enveloped me securely around the waist, providing a sanctuary amidst the chaos.
The intensity of the fight, Dante's swift and calculated movements, and the overwhelming flood of emotions left me breathless.
Panic surged, and the haunting memories of the past became a palpable presence. Overwhelmed, I succumbed to the darkness, unconsciousness offering a fleeting escape from the horrors that echoed in my mind.
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Slowly, like the delicate unveiling of a long-kept secret, my eyelids lifted, revealing a world drenched in hues of blurred uncertainty. The first face to pierce through the fog of unconsciousness was my brother's, his eyes wide with a tumultuous concoction of relief and terror. An urgency possessed him as he hurriedly approached, his embrace a tangible manifestation of the fear that had gripped him just moments ago.
"I always told you, Athena, not to tread the alleyways alone. Why do you never listen?" Lewis, my brother, questioned, his concern dripping with a rich blend of brotherly affection, his words a tapestry woven with threads of worry.
"It's all my fault. I would've never let her go. I didn't even know she went. She told me to go up and help Daphne. This wouldn't have happened if I had not gone up," Nathan confessed, his guilt hanging in the air, palpable and heavy like the weight of unspoken regrets.
"Nathan, it's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, alright?" Daphne interjected, her reassurance a soothing balm in the midst of the chaos. She settled beside me, offering water, her caring touch a gentle respite amidst the tempest of emotions.
In the background, Dante and the others were waiting, witnessing the aftermath of my ill-fated venture. Embarrassment, like a crimson tide, crept into my cheeks. I had made a spectacle of myself in front of everyone. Tears threatened to well up, but I fought valiantly to keep them hidden, unwilling to expose my vulnerability. Leo, ever the comedian, approached, attempting to lighten the mood.
"You better smile, Athena, or I won't be making frequent visits," he teased, his words an attempt to coax a smile from the shadows of my distress. I managed a feeble attempt, but the weight of the day clung to me like a stubborn shadow. Feeling the need for solitude, I uttered a stammered apology.
"I'm really sorry for today. I just need some time alone, just a minute," I rushed into the staff room, my tears escaping like unbridled fugitives, unseen by the prying eyes of others.
I let my emotions flow freely, hands trembling, breath hitching in sync with the rhythm of my inner turmoil. After some time, there was an audible creak, and the door closed behind me, creating a semblance of solitude.
Defensively, my voice rang out, "Lewis, I said I wanted time alone." However, the approaching footsteps belonged to none other than Dante. My eyes, reddened from tears, reflected a mess of smudged makeup, leaving me feeling utterly exposed. Attempting to conceal my vulnerability, I shot a guarded question, "What do you want?"
His deep voice cut through the emotional turmoil, suggesting, "You can sit outside." Confusion clouded my expression, but he clarified, "Nobody is there."
Avoiding Dante's gaze, I felt the weight of embarrassment bubbling within me, akin to a pot on the verge of boiling over. His eyes lingered on me, intensifying my nervousness. It seemed as if his scrutiny could peel away layers of my soul, and I yearned for an invisibility cloak. Silently pleading, I begged, "Please, don't stare at me," fearing his gaze might expose the cracks in my composure.
In that delicate moment, Dante reached into his pocket, taking out a handkerchief. Approaching me, he closed the distance, casually wiping away my tears. The gesture, though seemingly blank, spoke volumes. As he handed me the handkerchief, I took a step back, creating a small but necessary barrier.
"T-thank you," I stammered, my voice barely audible, unable to summon the courage to look up.
"Outside?" he asked once more, and I nodded, following him like a shadow. Emerging from the confined kitchen space, we stepped into the empty expanse.
"Where are Lewis and the others?" I inquired, curiosity wrestling with lingering hurt.
"They went home," Dante replied, a straightforwardness catching me off guard.
"Lewis wouldn't leave me alone, nor would Daphne and Nathan," I confessed, a tinge of hurt coloring my words. Dante's response, however, added an unexpected twist.
"Lewis had an urgent emergency at work; he had to go. Nathan and Daphne, I sent them home as it was late," he explained, unraveling the mystery behind their sudden departure.
"Alright then, I'll lock up the cafe, and I'll head home. My car's in the parking," I asserted, grabbing the keys with determination.
But before my exit, Dante's firm voice cut through the air again, "Can't send you home alone. I will drop you." The unexpected lifeline left me speechless as he strode out of the cafe.
In a flurry of action, I plunged the space into darkness, securing every lock. Wearing my coat, mobile phone in one hand, and keys in the other, I approached the back doors, only to find them mysteriously secured. A chill added an extra layer of mystery to the night.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped outside, finding Dante near his car, engaged in a serious phone conversation. As our eyes met, he swiftly ended the call, making his way towards me.
Locking up the cafe, Dante silently directed me to the passenger seat, courteously opening the door. Settling behind the wheel, the engine's hum echoed the night's unspoken complexities, setting an intriguing tone.
Feeling like I was trapped in a giant awkward snow globe, the realization hit me that my place was a mere 15-minute drive away. Beside me sat a man who seemed as intimidating as a skyscraper, casting a shadow over my 5'6 stature like a friendly giant at 6'4, his expressionless face adding an extra layer of mystery.
Closing my eyes momentarily, I summoned the courage to break the silence. "Thank you so much for saving me today," I uttered politely, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, giving away nothing. The prospect of striking up a conversation with him felt as daunting as pulling teeth.
Undeterred, I tried again, determined to chip away at the silence. "Do you not talk to people?" I asked with a friendly smile, but his gaze made me nervous, prompting me to quickly look down.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way, just curious," I added, fidgeting with my fingers.
"I talk when it's necessary," he replied flatly, his attention fixed on the road.
Trying to lighten the mood, I quipped, "I talk when it's not necessary. We would be such a dynamic friend duo!" I thought I saw a slight twitch in his lips, seizing the opportunity.
"I saw what you did," I continued, but he remained silent, eyes on the road.
"Say something; it's necessary right now," I insisted, folding my arms with a huff.
The most he offered was a noncommittal "hmm?".
Frustrated, I threw my hands up. "I get it, you look scary. But just because you're tall as a giraffe doesn't mean you're mute. God gave you a voice to speak. Use it!" I scolded, my voice still low, clearly annoyed.
He raised a brow, bit his lip, and for a moment, it seemed like he might respond, but he just sighed.
"Calling you a giraffe is insulting a giraffe itself. I don't like crocodiles. I'll call you one then," I declared, attempting to provoke a reaction and shatter the silence.
"Alright," he conceded, still focused on the road. I gave up on my quest for conversation and settled for staring out of the window. Just when I thought the verbal barricade was impenetrable, his deep voice rumbled through the car once again.
"Almost there," he announced, but my annoyance was palpable, and I kept my silence.
"Do you like ice cream?" he asked with a blank expression as if this were the most crucial question in the world.
"I don't know," I responded, mirroring his stoic demeanor.
"Okay," he acknowledged and, surprisingly, took a right turn instead of heading left toward my house. The unpredictability of the situation left me on edge, feeling like a pawn in a game I didn't quite understand.
"That's not where my house is," I pointed out, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow and a curiosity as vast as an unexplored galaxy.
"I know," he replied, his gaze fixed ahead, and we came to a halt in front of an ice cream parlor.
"Ice cream?" he proposed, and while he was undoubtedly a peculiar character, I couldn't deny my love for ice cream. "Mint chocolate chip. It's one of the best, and I haven't had it in ages," I declared proudly, intentionally not cracking a smile. Then, with a reluctant admission, I added, "I haven't had it since last night."
"Cone or cup?" he inquired, but I decided to take matters into my own hands. Without a word, I exited the car, sensing him following closely. Opting to avoid sitting with him, I headed straight for the counter, where a friendly lady greeted me.
"What would you like?" she asked.
"One mint chocolate chip, please, in a cone," I ordered. Glancing at the looming figure behind me, she turned and questioned him, "And for you?" He motioned a no, bypassing the line to pay at the counter.
I stepped forward to pay for my own treat, but out of the blue, he unexpectedly took my hand, causing me to collide with his chest for the second time.
"What are you doing?" I protested, my playful banter morphing into bewildered amusement. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed he had sneakily paid for the ice cream. I stepped aside, giving him space to claim his victory.
Extending the ice cream towards me, he insisted, "Take."
I shrugged, uninterested. "You pay next time," he declared, and I raised a skeptical brow.
"There's going to be a next time?" I questioned, but he brushed off the inquiry, placing the ice cream in my hand. Quite funny, considering I never thought I'd be bonding over ice cream with a man who seemed as mysterious as a hidden treasure.