t e n || Expected Saviors and Unexpected Declarations

|1st February 2019|

How I had failed to notice his presence was beyond my understanding, seeing as the incident eleven years ago had left me very alert when it came to movements in my surroundings, but I wasted no time in thinking about stuff that would lead me nowhere but trouble and turned around, only to bump into a chest. A very, very hard one, at that.

A bigger uh oh.

Realizing that this one too did nothing to untie the knots of distress dominating my whole body, I stumbled backward, but not before subtly pushing Zeph behind me. He would have to break me thoroughly before even thinking of touching Zephrine. In fact, not only would he have to break me, but he would also have to turn me into a corpse before touching Zephrine− my Zephrine.

"Watch'ya got in there?" the guy in front of me growled, nodding towards the pockets of my cardigan, his whole body smelling like the oldest culvert.

Yuck, dude, if you find the task of fixing a water tap in your stinking dwelling so tedious that you don't even take a bath, make use of the rain− a free source of fresh water. It's been raining a lot these days, anyway.

I touched my pockets, comprehending only a moment later that I'd left the apartment with a ten-dollar note, and having already spent five dollars on the ice-creams, I had nothing more than five dollars left.

The biggest uh oh.

But then I felt it− a hard object.

Oh, my phone! Yes, maybe I can call somebody and−

And what? Tell them that two gangsters have caught you and your little one in a fit? And that too in front of the said gangsters themselves? asked the voice, being helpful for once.

Yeah, that's just too risky, I agreed. Maybe this voice didn't belong to some telepathic psycho. Maybe it belonged to some telepathic genius.

Nope, that's plain stupid, not risky.

Whatever, I replied, flitting my mind back to where it was actually supposed to be.

"Mom, give it to him," Zeph whispered, her body shrinking into mine from behind me in fear. Zeph, couldn't you be sensible enough to shut your mouth while I took care of things my way?

I slammed my eyes shut as the man in front of me bent slightly over my shoulder so he could have a look at that source of the sound behind me. I was actually surprised he hadn't noticed her until now, because my only motive behind hiding her behind me was preventing her from being harmed while I was in my full mind and body. But I guess the dirt on his body had clogged his vision, too.

However, before he could even lay a finger on Zeph, her frame moved. Not willingly, of course, but because the man who had been approaching us from the other end had grasped her frail body firmly in his arms.

"I got this one, get the dollars from that one," the one holding Zephrine said, nodding at me.

Zephrine started sobbing instantly, and the louder her cries got, the hazier my vision became.

My hands flew to my mouth, my eyes unable to see her being held so tightly. She must be in so much pain− all because of me. "Oh my Go−okay, okay," I raised my hands in surrender, my eyes moving frantically between the two men in fear. "I'll give you everything I have, just let her go, p-please, just let her go and I'll give you every-everything," I exclaimed, my voice nothing short of terror.

Oh, God, please help me.

I quickly fumbled through my jeans' pockets to try and find some more cash, but I only turned up empty-handed. Why didn't I bring my wallet?

"Quick!" said the one who was supposedly 'handling' me.

I hesitantly thrust the five dollars in his outstretched palm, hoping that his greed for money would be satisfied with what I had. But from the way deep laughter rolled off his throat the instant he was done inspecting the number on the note, I knew he was not letting me go any time soon, that too without anything less than a good fortune. "I'm a thief, a'ight, not a beggar." he bellowed gruffly, then his hand jerked me towards him, the impact making me stumble into his chest for the second time during this encounter.

Close up, he wasn't that bad in the 'looks' department. That is, until we keep disregarding the dirt covering his face. Seriously, I could vomit on his face and he wouldn't even know.

"Gimme everything you have. Or," he turned towards Zeph, his gaze slicing into her figure, emitting a dangerous vibe. He didn't even have to complete his sentence for me to know what the consequences of doing anything otherwise would be. "She gets it. All of it."

Suddenly, amidst all chaos, a peculiar idea materialized in my brain.

I didn't have enough money, of course, but it wasn't like I didn't have anything that didn't smell like money for time enough for Zeph and me to escape their clutches. Albeit, my only hope was that none of them understood what I really had done before we were out of their sight.

I raised my hands up to my ears, pretending to try and hide the artificial earring hanging from each of my lobes from him as if they were platinum-made. And thanks to the maker of this jewelry, they were tainted a pale gray, adding more effect to my dramatics.

He, much to my content, immediately noticed what I was trying to hide, and literally growled in my ears, "Gimme those, now."

I shook my head, pretending to disagree with him because they meant a lot to me and I couldn't give them away so easily.

Perhaps I shouldn't have overacted, shouldn't have tried so hard to disagree with regards to complying with his wish so I could make him believe that they really were worth a load, because what he did next hurt. A lot.

He pulled the earrings off my ears (thank goodness they weren't rings or else my earlobes would be torn by now) and motioned something to the other man.

What he actually meant to convey, I shall never know, but what the man behind me actually did, I shall never forget.

I turned around just in time to see him literally throw Zephrine at the wall. Then he ran, like the coward that he really is, but then again, he didn't do it before pushing me so harshly that I landed on my knees and palms.

The blow was hard enough to make my palms start bleeding as soon as they came in contact with the tiny stones scattered on the ground. My hands hurt, obviously, but my mind was focusing on only one thing. Or rather, one person.

Zephrine.

I turned around to find her lying on the ground, and I could swear to God that I hadn't ever choked so hard on my own breath, not even when Elliot had left me as I did when I saw her there, her body twisted by the wall at which she was thrown not a few seconds ago.

I pushed myself in a standing position, but even before I could stand properly, I started limping towards her, my body falling on its own at the sight of moonlight glistening off the blood covering her forehead, and her eyes closed, indicating she was unconscious.

"Zephrine! Zeph, baby open your eyes!"

She looked in so much pain, a pain she couldn't explain because she wasn't even awake.

"Zephrine, wake up!"

All of a sudden, I couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't move. All I could do was cry because I hadn't been sensible enough to head home as soon as I had bought her the ice-cream. Because I had allowed her to lead the way while I was on a sojourn in the past.

This is because of me.

All of this is all because of me.

Finally managing to draw some courage from God-knows-where, I chucked my phone out of my pocket. My hands shivered as I held the device between my fingers. What I'm going to do with it or who I'm going to call, I don't know, mainly because I couldn't call Jael− she'd be too deep in sleep to wake up within one or two missed calls, not Dave− because he isn't even here, not Lauren (my closest friend)− because she lives too far to make it here within half an hour.

However, knowing I had to do something, call someone, tell them what has been going on here so Zeph could be saved as early as possible, was mandatory, and had to be done right away.

And just like that, without even thinking twice, I dialed Elliot's number.

He picked it as soon as it started ringing, making my mind stray off the topic at hand for a millisecond and wonder what he was doing awake at three in the morning. "You okay, Ms. Wilson?" he asked, his breath coming off quickly, an indication he was doing some workout. Maybe he was pacing the room or something like that.

I tried my best to talk normally, but I couldn't. So, with my watery eyes trained on Zeph's closed ones, I sobbed out, "El-liot, Zephrine, she's hurt." I sucked a shallow breath in and continued before my vocals could go off altogether. "I was just buying her ice-cream and then, then these men, I dunno wh-who, they−"

I heard some shuffling in the background and before I could complete, he hoarsely muttered, "Stay where you are. Don't go anywhere. Switch your GPS on. I'm coming," and cut the call.

I let the phone slip from between my fingers and into my pocket. I removed the scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around Zeph's head, a weak attempt on my part to somehow prevent excess loss of blood.

Then, after placing her frail body in my lap, I took her coat off so I could search her body for any other major injuries. It wasn't hard finding one more, along the length of her elbow.

Oh God, how many more bruises did she have?

My heart crumbled into pieces as I heard footsteps echoing in the dark passageway.

Please, no more trouble, please.

I slowly turned around, assuming I'd find somebody who meant no good, but instead, I found Elliot rushing towards where I sat cross-legged on the ground, an unconscious girl on my lap. As he came closer, I noticed the look of pure worry etched on his features.

Woah, his speed in getting here has to be a set record.

"I'm here, I'm here," he whispered, trying to calm my sobbing-self with his soothing tone.

Despite how torn my heart was at the moment, a tiny spark ignited at its abyss at how Elliot squat beside me to carefully pick Zephrine from my lap, after which, he extended his hand towards me so I could stand along with him. I took his hand but retracted it as a keen pain traveled from my palm to the rest of my hand.

The bruises from being pushed over and landing on a mess of stones, right.

He paused in his actions, his concerned gaze moving to my hand, as if trying to analyze what the matter was with it using his visuals, before balancing Zeph in his right arm and pulling me closer to him by my elbow.

"Did they hurt you, too?" he asked, tiny hints of anger laced in his tone.

I shook my head. They hadn't hurt me even a quarter as much as they had hurt Zeph. "No, no, that's not important, let's get her to the hospital," I said, sniffing and hurrying towards the lane that opened to the main road, where his car stood.

He nodded distractedly, his eyes holding an expression I couldn't quite decipher under the dim lights.

Okay, that is a lie. I actually didn't want to read into his expressions because that wasn't important at the moment. Oh, and also because they held an emotion I had come to hate in the past few years, despite feeling it quite a lot these days.

Love.

He opened the door to the passenger's seat and after helping me inside, placed Zeph on my lap with the same gentleness as before and hurried to his own seat on the other side of the car.

There was an aura around him tonight, something close to fear. Of, or from what, I didn't know because hey, he didn't even know her, but it was there, throughout the twelve and a half minute drive to the closest hospital during which he had asked me a few questions regarding what had happened and what we were doing in an alley like that at this time instead of our beds, which I had tried answering as less as possible because I wasn't very interested in talking to anyone about anything before confirming to myself that my girl was alright.

We reached the hospital and Elliot quickly got off his side and ran− yes, he literally ran to the emergency counter and called for a stretcher. He shifted her figure from my arms to his own, and then laid her on the stretcher and moved back.

I wanted to go after her, I wanted to be with her when she woke up but apparently, I wasn't allowed.

A soft sob left my mouth as I watched her being taken away. Nobody who hasn't been a mother would understand how much my whole body was aching to see her smile once more, laugh once more.

"Celeste, please, come sit down," said Elliot, trying to get me away from the door to the room in which the doctors had taken Zeph. I stubbornly brushed his request aside and stood there itself. There was nothing strong enough to move me from here.

Or so I assumed, because not mere moments later, I was being dragged by him to the closest seats. When he was moving me away from the door, for the second time this evening, his hand brushed against the inside of my palm and I flinched away in pain. He paused, and now that there was no unconscious Zephrine who had to be rushed to the hospital, he took my hand, shock, and worry camouflaging his features as he inspected the tiny stones sticking in my flesh.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he seethed.

"It's nothing, forg−" of course he didn't let me complete, and instead of the seats, he dragged me towards the nurse who was passing by.

Oh, you are so not going to win here, Elliot.

But I guess I had forgotten that the day he wasn't going to win over me would be the same day I would stop loving him (which was probably not happening, ever), because as he followed the nurse inside the emergency department after explaining to her what the matter was, yanking me against my will, I stayed shut.

He stood there all the while the nurse cleaned the wounds and wrapped my hand in white roller bandage, his eyes never leaving my bent figure. And I know this is probably the third time I'm mentioning this, but there is something distinguishably different about him this night, something...nice, something a lot alike the caring boy who had saved my life all those years ago.

My heart warmed as he placed his left arm around my shoulders and led me to the reception area. And then, somewhere at the back of my mind, it clicked why I had chosen to contact him, and not the ambulance.

I knew for sure that he would come for her, just like he had come for me. And what's more important is that regardless of how much I kept denying it, I trusted him to know about her.

We had just seated ourselves when a nurse came from around the corner. "Sir, we need you to make the payments for your daughter's treatment," she said.

Elliot stood beside me. "Sure, but how's she?"

"Her right elbow's fractured, and a few bruises on her head, but worry not, the doctor's working on her treatment, sir."

Right elbow's fractured, still working on her treatment.

Is it all really that bad? I wanted to ask, but Elliot dismissed her with an: "Alright, thanks," Then, turning to me, he said, "Stay here, I'll be back," and turned away from me, walking towards the reception desk.

I wanted to listen to him and stay back− I really did, but I couldn't. So, I followed him. As if sensing my presence, he turned around, and I watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion, silently questioning my motives behind following him when he had clearly asked me not to.

"I came to pay," I stated coolly.

I know I asked for his help and all, but that was only restricted to bringing her here while I was knocked off my senses. What is to happen after that is my responsibility because she is my− only my daughter; and although my mom passed away when I was just seventeen, she had taught me by then how I am supposed to fulfill my responsibilities with perfect care.

His eyebrows rose in offense. "I thought you said you didn't have any money on you," he replied, referring to how we landed here in the first place.

"Well, I don't. Not now," I said, nodding in agreement. "And that's why I'm gonna ask them to gimme some time so I can go home and pick a cheque,"

I tried getting away from him after speaking for myself but Elliot's form stood in my way. Of course, he wouldn't let me pass without interrogating me thoroughly, despite this being my matter.

He raised his hands, trying to make me understand his point of view towards this situation through gestures. "There's no need for that, Celeste. I'm here now and I'll take care of everything, okay?"

My brows shot upwards on their own. "I'm sure you can take care of everything, Mr. Nithercott," I said, feeling the need to talk myself out of this using our usual professionalism. For some reason, I didn't like how persistent he was being about this. "But because this is my personal matter, please let me handle it myself."

I tried moving away from him but failed for the second time as he leaned in, mild pain evident in his eyes. "Oh, yeah?" he pronounced, leaning closer. "If I'm only a client who you feel should keep himself out of your personal matters, then why did you even bother calling me when you needed someone, huh?" then, he leaned in more closely. "I'm sure a person like you has many friends trustworthy enough to lean on in case of such an emergency."

Unable to form coherent words, I simply stared into the deep blue abyss' of his eyes.

I knew there was a rather explicit reason as to why I had called him before anyone else.

I trusted him, more than anyone else.

Not finding it in me to speak out the truth, I lowered my gaze to the bleached floors. But how lucky must I count myself when they shoot up just in time to witness the tenderness on his face as he finished his next statement, leaving me utterly appalled.

"Celeste, you acting all stuck-up does not change the fact that she isn't only your daughter," he said. Then, in a whisper that was nothing more than a sounding breath, he added, "Because she's my girl too."

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um, hey? any thoughts on this chapter?

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