"You are an empty space in my heart that I can't simply fill with words."

***

TWO: DEFEATED & STRAY

TAKING MY POSITION at the starting point of the racing track, I tried to calm my nerves and breath steadily. It was Sunday and my second and last race of the week. There were a few minutes before the race started so I casually shifted my eyes to the other racers on my either side of me.

A few were talking to each other very casually as if they weren't against each other and would divide the toffee in the end.

My eyes stopped at the guy whom I recognized as Damien Russell, a popular figure with a lot of people investing in him. His tanned face was covered in a well-trimmed beard and his jaw elongated outwards, more than the usual people, giving a clever dainty look.

His eyes were squinted, so I couldn't see the color of his eyes because he was looking forward. He was wearing a sleeveless black glossy leather jacket with chains sewed at random places. Arms painted in dragon and fire tattoos.

He looked at me as if sensing my eyes on him and smirked knowingly. Narrowing my eyes at him, I withdrew my gaze and looked forward. His gaze on me made me feel uneasy. It dampened my zeal.

At a distance towards the resting area, a few known faces were casually discussing something while everyone waited for the clock to strike twelve.

The crowd roared cheerfully as the countdown ended and finally, we took off. I rolled the throttle a few times and warmth surfaced inside my jacket making goosebumps rent the skin. My eyes were focused sheerly on the road, visualizing a few other contestants in front of me.

Adrenaline marched through my veins haughtily, making my breath shallow. I crossed a few of them as a smirk appeared on my lips very naturally, decorating my face. I felt a shadow right behind me, till it was adjacent to me.

Giving a sideway glance I recognized Damein's red bike. I rolled the handle just when his bike came right in front of me, crossing mine strategically, making my balance go off. My heart stuck in my mouth due to alertness and my nerves awoke.

Pressing the brakes out of emergency, my bike fell on the right side of the ground taking me with it. My helmet hit the concrete road, as bikes raced past me. To say that I was angry will be wrong. I was disappointed, disappointed in myself for letting my shield down, even though it was unconscious.

My right leg was tucked below my very heavy bike, painfully. Scrunching my face in agony I pulled the bike up with my wrists, struggling and hissing. And then thrusting out the stand, I got off of the bike.

The sides of my deep blue jeans were greyish, instinctively my hands rub on them, dusting off the dirt. Sighing, I squatted down and gritted my teeth out of frustration. The scratched bruised stang when the cold air touched them. I hiss lowly, inspecting them.

I took a few breaths to calm my palpating nerves. A few places in my body were soar but I chose not to pay any heed to them at the moment. Knowing that nothing can be done then, I got on my bike, very difficulty. The right side of my abdomen pained when I breathed. I stopped when I reached the white-black checkered crossing line.

A few people sighed, way too visibly to express their disappointed but a few were even rude enough to shout at me. Turning a deaf ear to them, I parked at my everyday spot and waited. I knew I had to have a conversation with Damien before going back to the apartment. Otherwise, I won't be able to sleep at all.

I could've just reported him for his foul act.

I waited for more than fifteen minutes as he received his cash, chatted with his friends but he always kept a tab on me. His eyes met mine often than normal, and then he would extend a devilish smirk making me huff. I finally decided to walk up to him personally and have a 'little chat'.

But when he caught me walking towards him, he turned his back at me and I stopped in my track, bewildered.

The audacity of the asshole!

Not knowing if I should continue but later deciding to sort this out the next time, I made an immediate U-turn as I became more frustrated every passing second.

Sleep. Sleep will cure this.

I threw one of my legs on the other side of the vehicle, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain in my side. Huffing again, angrily, I cursed under my breath and heated the engine.

Such a dickhead, when God was training us to behave well, he must have been playing with Satan rather. And when Satan was distributing arrogance and hatred he must have snatched all of it for himself. Jerk!

My eyes snapped open at the muscular figure walking carelessly in front of me, in the middle of the road, typing furiously in his phone. Before I could halt to a stop there was no distance left between us.

My heartbeat accelerated, the sound throbbed in my ears, it's speed more than that of freaking speed of light. When his body made contact with the front tire, his eyes opened widely and before he could make a full eye to eye contact with me, his structure started sinking into the air till he fell on his back, colliding with the ground.

I don't know when my hands pressed the brakes but I could feel the chilly air around me, I realized my heart was caught in my mouth and everything was happening in slow motion.

Snapping back to reality, I quickly made it to him, and looking at his closed eyes made my breath hitch.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuckkkk. Just, don't die!

"Hello," I said, prodding his cheek repeatedly to check if he was fine. He grumbled slowly and my breath came back to me.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked again. His eyes opened minutely and he nodded meekly.

Thank God!

"Come on, we need to go to the hospital. I'll try to help you get up. Please don't leave it all on me."

I felt him smile faintly, eyes closed in bliss which made me release a defeated sigh out of surprise and shock.

"Ma'am you need to fill this form." The receptionist uttered.

"Okay."

Taking the form from her hold and pulling out a pen from the counter table. My eyes fell on the first thing, which was the 'name of the patient'. Realizing I don't even know his name let alone blood group or phone number I panicked.

"Has the doctor taken him under observation?" I questioned dumbly, feeling like what the hell is wrong with me.

"Yes ma'am-"

A phone vibrated in the inner pocket of my jacket. I quickly took it out and sighed in relief when I figured out that it was his phone, which I had picked up from the ground, before rushing to the hospital.

Sliding my finger across the screen swiftly before the call would end, I answered. But the dangerously hoarse voice on the other side made goosebumps blanket my arms.

"Where the hell are you. Mom is freaking out-"

"Hello?" I extended my voice in a questioning tone.

I felt shuffling on the other side, assuming that he must be re-checking whom he had dialed.

"This is my brother's phone number. Whose speaking on the other side, if I may ask," his authorized choice of words amused me.

"Yes, I know this is not my phone but I took your brother to the City Hospital and his phone is with me. He's injured so I wasn't left with any other option. I have already cleared the-"

Pulling down the phone, I saw the line was dead. Did he seriously end the call of the person who saved his brother's life?

I gave that phone to the receptionist and told her to give it to his brother when he comes.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I pull out my wallet. Clearing the charges with my debit card I slip the card back in its respective slot. My phone starts buzzing so I pull it out of my jeans pocket and place my wallet back on the counter and turned around.

"Hello."

A disrupted screeching voice comes from the other end so I repeated myself, rather loudly. Still, no decipherable sound came from the other side. This time I shouted a 'hello'. My nerves were throbbed in my head.

Who the hell calls at three in the morning?

"Ma'am this is a hospital." Giving the receptionist a blank look against her stern glare, I start walking to the exit.

The line got cut and I looked at the caller ID. Neither it was saved nor I recall this number from anywhere. Not that I would, cause I barely give any attention to someone's number. Why should I anyways?

I mean when we can always save it. Shaking my head, I finally make my way towards home.

----

"Hello," I replied to the phone call while washing the dishes. I tucked the cell between my ear and shoulder.

"Is it Ms. Hargrave on the other side," a familiar voice echoed, but I couldn't decipher whom it belonged to. It felt like a dream which was lost when I woke up.

It was very formal and impassive, not ready to give away any kind of emotion. Almost mechanical. My hands stopped working and rested on the wet marbled kitchen island, splashing away some water back into the sink.

"Yes, speaking." My fingers craved the rim of a porcelain cup.

"I think I have something very precious of yours with me." Replied the owner of a hoarse tone.

"I think it would be easier if you tell me your name, before continuing your bullshit." I snapped, sliding the cup away before I ended up breaking it. It glided smoothly over the water.

"Where's the fun in that now?"

Heaving a sigh exasperatedly, I said, "What do you want?"

"Tsk tsk tsk... there is nothing I would desire from your end, Miss. Here, I was just trying to be a gentleman and hand you over your belongings."

Gentleman my foot.

"See, whoever-the-hell-you-are, cut the crap and tell me what the hell you stole." Because I don't think I find anything missing. I thought internally.

"I am not a thief and neither do I have any free time to talk to you. Meet me in the Neo Coffee Bar tomorrow at one o'clock sharp."

The line went dead before I could retort.

What the hell is he talking about?

How did he manage to find my number?

What did he have of mine?

Was he high? But it didn't sound like it.

Is there even anything precious to me? No, not apart from my phone and wallet. Shit! Wallet.

Bolting out of the kitchen to my room, I started rummaging through my jacket, carelessly, not bothering if it tears up. Not finding it there, I searched my wardrobe, cupboards, side tables but nothing. I ran back to the living room area and my ears have turned warm. Frantically, I searched between pillows on the couch, kneeling down to look below the couch, shoe rack - nowhere.

Fuck!

Did I drop it in the racing ground?

Did Russell steal it? No man, he wouldn't do that. I think. Maybe.

Where else did I go?

Striding continuously from here to there randomly, in the living room I press the nerves of my scalp. I am so irresponsible. Damn.

Where the hell is my wallet?! My fucking entire life revolves around it. Money, debit card, credit cards, bills, identification memos, the card to participate in the races, and what-not.

Does he have my wallet or some papers regarding the NGO?

I hope nothing illegible came to his hands.

Huffing exasperatedly, I conclude that I am definitely a gone case.

Fuck me!

***