I could feel my skin tearing apart from the brutal friction between the rough asphalt and my bare feet. But the pain senses were blocked. My heart was racing furiously inside my chest. How much strain can a heart take? Was I breathing at all? My vision was blurry, but I stared desperately into the impenetrable darkness. My body was trying to tell me to stop. But I couldn't stop. I had to go on. I had to run. To run away.

The leaves of the trees around the road rustled ominously. It was as if they were whispering something to me. It was like someone was whispering from behind.

A feeling of dread had taken over my whole being. A sense of despair and hopelessness raged in my veins. But I couldn't turn back. I couldn't risk wasting even a second. I had to go on. To keep running. To run away.

The moon looked bloody that night. The whole night was bloody. Bathed in the scent of blood. Still fresh on my hands. Fresh still on the snow-white ethereal tulle. On the snow-white long veil. Soaked in the white satin.

It was a bloody night. I was all bloody. But I had to go on. I had to run. To run away.

Black shadows flew high into the sky—the birds of the night. I looked up; it was like they were gathered to celebrate death.

A mighty car horn pierced through the silence, accompanied by the sound of screeching brakes. And light. Right before me. Bright and dazzling. Was that the light of my salvation?

Just a split second. Boom! A little more pain. And then complete darkness again.

***

I opened my eyes slightly. That was not heaven. Was I in hell?

I moved a little. My body responded with a killing pain. I was alive. Why was I alive? Where was I?

My gaze, still not quite able to see clearly, drifted left and right. Dark grey walls surrounded what I could see. Nothing more.

Wait. There was a shadow in front. The shadow moved toward me. I squeezed my eyes and opened them again. It was a man. He stood by the bed I was lying at.

I screamed in fear when I finally managed to focus on the figure. The man was tall. Very tall. Dressed in a black t-shirt and baggy camouflage pants. Dark medium long hair was styled back with a way too large amount of hair detergent. His one eye was covered with an eye patch, and down below, a huge rough scar reached all the way to his chin.

It seemed that he smiled at me.

I screamed once again with a full voice.

"Hello, ma'am," the man said with a husky voice. He really smiled at me.

The stretching of his lips looked so creepy on his face, nothing to do with an emotion that could cause such a grimace.

My voice raised again.

The man sat on the edge of my bed and put his hand on mine. "Shh. Calm down, ma'am. Breath."

"Who are you?" I asked with tears in my eyes. "Where am I?"

"Try not to move much," he said, fully ignoring my question. "You have a broken rib."

Just then, I realized that my wedding dress was gone, and a long nightgown covered my body instead.

"I want to sit," I mumbled while putting the strength to rise in the bed.

"Let me help you." The man offered and reached a hand toward me.

"Don't touch me," I cried out.

"Don't worry, ma'am."

That word ma'am sounded so wrong, given the fact he looked at least ten years or more older than me.

"Tell me who are you!" I insisted, though every word I said came out with great fear.

"I am Cade," the creepy man said. "Do you feel better now when you know?"

I didn't feel any better. I might have been if I was let to hide at the end of the world. "I want to go."

"Why don't you lay down and take a rest, okay?"

The tone of his voice made the words sound more like an order rather than a polite question.

I nodded, and to my brief relief, the man headed to the door.

Just when I saw his back, I swallowed the pain and stood up from the bed.

My life was in danger before. Did the danger grow bigger now? I didn't know how much more pressure I could handle anymore.

The man left the door slightly ajar. Should I try to exit this room? To keep running. To run away.

I took a few steps. Each one caused me an additional ache in the chest. The gray concrete felt cold below my still bare feet. Could I make it exit the room?

The very next move, followed by a sharp, stabbing, excruciating piece of feel gave the potential answer to that. 

As I writhed on the floor with drops of sweat all over my face, black leather shoes appeared before my eyes.

Slowly, my gaze slid up over the black jeans, fitting tight on a man's thighs, and stopped on the gun fastened below his leather belt.

Panic aroused, and trembles crept through my whole body again. What a monster I was about to discover next?

Despite the fear, my eyes kept moving above. Hands in the pockets, marked with tattoos, making to wonder if they stopped somewhere or covered the whole area below the shirt colored in black. A metal watch, probably made wholly of gold, embellishing the man's wrist, could have told me what time of day we were in, but instead, I focused on the features. My life lately has taught me to recognize rich people's expensive toys as soon as I see them.

Above the unbuttoned collar, pumped veins stood out all over his neck; I could swear I could see the blood pulsating rapidly in them. A strong jawline defined the bottom part of his face, covered with a black stubble beard. Wet lips, a little slightly apart, damn, for a second, made me wonder how they could taste. But his cold, dark eyes quickly brought back the fear and horror into my heart. A hint of ferocity and cruelty was painted in his gaze. I had already encountered such. From such, I wanted to escape.

How much easier it could have been if that car had killed me that night...

And while this thought was running through my head, I couldn't tear apart my eyes from his.

"Go ahead. Kill me. Just do it quickly. Let's finish this madness," I barely uttered.

He moved back a strand from his raven-black hair that fell over his forehead and extended a hand to help me stand up. Which made things even more tense when I realized I was twice as little as him. Or so it seemed. It was how I felt when my height stopped below his chin.

He reached and moved my face up so my gaze met his again. "Why do you think I want to kill you, love?"

The way he spoke made me tremble again. Were those guys Grayson's men? Only, if they were, I would have been just a memory by now. 

"If you don't want to kill me, then let me go. Please, let me go!" I couldn't stop the tears falling down my cheeks.

The man stood still before me, looking intently into my eyes. "You won't go anywhere. At least not for now, love. I have an offer for you."

"What offer? Are you insane? Who are you? Why are you keeping me here?"

"Hear me out," he said calmly. "If you don't like what you hear, you'll be free to go."

I looked down at his gun.

The man grabbed my chin and moved my face back up. "You don't have to be afraid of me."

His words expressed a whole new meaning, far different from the one they were to imply. I was afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid of Cade—the man with the scar. I was scared of the man I was trying to escape from. I was scared of the whole world.

"Who are you?" I asked again. "What could you possibly offer to me? You don't even know me."

"You are wrong here, love." His fingers slid on my cheek, tracing the wet marks. "I know who you are, Ella Zanova. But most importantly, I know what you did."

His words echoed through my head. Over and over again. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. I just stood frozen before him.

"The consequences will be very, very cruel. You know that. But, I offer you full protection from Grayson Hall."

"You want to protect me from Grayson? Why?" I asked timidly. "And in return for what?"

"You will stay here with me. Simple as that."

"Why?"

The man pointed with his head to the bed. "There are painkillers on the nightstand. You need some." He reached for the door's handle. "The offer is valid for twenty-four hours from now. You have plenty of time to think. Until you make your decision, make yourself comfortable here."

Without another word or giving me a chance to speak, he walked out and locked the door behind him.