A crack of laughter erupted from behind her. Uneasiness settled in her stomach as she could sense the joy this chase brought him. Sick bastard, she though as the laughter grew louder, only a psychopath would find this funny.
Her legs moved fast beneath her. Hair flying wild in the wind, as she moved faster. Her head flew over her shoulder to see if there was a decent distance between them. Panic engulfed her as she saw the small space separating them. Head twisting rapidly, she searched for a way out of her situation. It felt like there was no where to go; no where to hide.
The only thing she could do now was try and outrun them. Footsteps were heard behind her, the sound of their stomp echoing down the ally. She made it out of the ally, and made a sharp right; tires squealed next to her. Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded in her chest. Fear consumed her. The adrenaline kept her legs pumping. She was almost unstoppable. Aware of the fading footsteps behind her, she turned down another ally. Racing to get out the other side before she was noticed, her heels skidded to an abrupt stop.
"What's the rush, beautiful." His hand gripped her arm. In one swift motion he pulled her towards him, spun around and pushed her into the van; only to hop in afterwards, sliding the door closed behind him. Laughter rolling out of his mouth as he planted himself down in the seat next to her. His arm wrapping around her shoulders, only to close the gap between them. "You look nervous."
She watched as his forehead wrinkled. It was as if he was showing concern, but in a way where she could tell he was not distressed by how uncomfortable she felt. Her body squirmed in his hold, trying to get a barrier of air between them; her plan did not even work in the slightest.
He questioned her comfortability while leaning in towards her ear, stopping when there was only an inch between them. "Is it the scars? Want to know how I got them?" He leaned back nodding his head, as if he answered the question for her. Mouth opened to tell his story, he watched her face carefully.
"No," the answer to his first question slipped out of her mouth, "it's not the scars." She watched as his eyes opened in suspicion. People's uneasiness around him has always been because of the distracting flaws on either side of his mouth. "It's your reputation. That's it." His questions were all answered. Nodding his head as if to tell her that he understands, he leans against the back of the chair and waits for the car to reach its destination.