A Stop for the Night, Part 2 (Hae-Ri)
Hae-Ri's head lolled against the headrest, heavy with imminent sleep. She closed her eyes, once more on the verge of sleep, just in time for another unexpected appearance to her left. Her heart jumped to her throat in surprise, her eyes flew open.
What is it now? Just go already … She gave him a tired yet vicious look, though with his hat so low that it almost completely covered his eyes, she doubted he could see it, and wondered if he saw anything at all. Feeling utterly exhausted, she just wanted him to leave her alone and stop bothering her, much like he did earlier, when he barely acknowledged her existence other than a few glances through the mirror.
He suddenly stood up, making her wondered if she had spoken the words out loud rather than think them. She was so drained that it wouldn't surprise her if she did. Her captor, though, didn't actually go away, and just leaned over the back of the seat into the trunk with his ass in the air. He then resettled himself next to her with a plastic box of a cloudy color in hand, placing it on the seat between them. The plastic box was almost clear, but not quite enough to see what was in it under the weak light.
Hae-Ri stared hard at the box when her captor abruptly got up again, this time leaning forward over the back of the passenger's seat. She heard the clinking of metal that soon came into view as he sat back again, the light bouncing off the silvery surface. Handcuffs. Her heart rate picked up again after finally calming down, chasing away any desire to sleep, as an alarm went off in her head. She didn't miss the fact that he pocketed the little key before tossing the cuffs aside, it was without a doubt that he was planning to use it soon.
She stared daggers at him, fuming, as he took out his sinister looking knife from his belt in a quick, flowing sweep of the arm. His movement was so elegant that under different circumstances she might have found it admirable, but under this situation, she was terrified. Did she make a wrong judgment of his intentions? This man was well trained, and she had no way to put up a fight with her bound hands and injured ankle. She was racking her brain, trying to come up with something, anything, when he was upon her, knife in hand, leaning over her.
She knew she had no chance, but she couldn't allow herself to go down without a fight. She leaned her head back as far as it would go, preparing to unleash a deadly head-butt, hopefully strong enough to knock him out, when suddenly her body moved on its own, shifting to the left, away from the door. Stiff muscles she had forgotten she had protested at the sudden change in posture after being locked in an unnatural angle for so long.
Her captor then proceeded to take off the zip tie that bounded her wrists to each other, allowing them to gain distance from each other, as if never wanting to meet one another ever again. She spread her fingers wide apart, then slowly rotated her wrists, the movement causing numerous cracking sounds from both. It did hurt, but it also felt incredibly good to move her hands freely after so many hours.
Immersed in the joy of moving her bruised, numb wrists, arms and shoulders, she was taken by surprise when he suddenly grabbed her arm. If looks could kill, he would have died with a huge hole in the middle of his head by now, judging by the number of murderous stares she was giving him, though he was oblivious to them all. She pulled back instinctively in resistance, and while his hold on her wasn't painful, his grip was like iron. She tried to pull back again, but the impact of her resistance was nonexistent, and he maintained his hold as he pushed her sleeve up with his free hand. The bruises were ugly, but it wasn't too bad. The cuts didn't look deep enough to leave a scar, and the bleeding was minimal.
He released her left arm and quickly grabbed the right. This time, she let him. He pushed her sleeve up again and studied her wounded wrist, then let go of her and opened the plastic box, which proved to be a first aid kit. He was very gentle as he treated and wrapped up her wrists. She was looking at him the whole time, trying to make sense of the unexpected turn of events. She felt calmer, her heartbeat dropping back to normal. Considering the fact that he was a criminal, and she – his victim, something felt rather off. She thought about trying to talk him up, but remembering her multiple failed attempts, she immediately gave up, knowing that she would be ignored again.
Hae-Ri's joy of being untied proved to be short lived as he cuffed her to the door again, going about it so quickly that she didn't even notice what was happening. Her curious gaze was traded for a vicious one, but it was somewhat comforting to have her left wrist spared. She already made peace with having both wrists tied to the door with the uncomfortable zip ties throughout the night, and in comparison, this was a lot better. The handcuffs were a huge upgrade compared to the zip tie. It was a bit unpleasant over the bruise on her wrist, but the bandage and sleeve lessened the friction and gave some cushioning, which made it manageable.
While trying to figure out his bizarre actions, her captor went on and did another unexpected thing. He pulled a pair of socks out of nowhere in particular, then bent forward and touched her left shoe. Hae-Ri bit her lip to stifled a cry of pain. She thought of making him regret leaving her with a free hand, and use it to pull at his shirt collar, hopefully hard enough to choke him to death. Though that, much like the aborted head-butt a little earlier, proved to be unnecessary.
He quickly let go of her and straightened up in his seat, looking for something in his pants. He finally chose one out of the numerous pockets, from which he extracted a little black pen, clicked the top and shined a ray of light down on her feet. As he was taking his time, she wondered if he was actually indeed a pervert, like she suspected at first. A foot-fetish, though, she wasn't expecting.
After a short while that felt much longer, he raised a hand to his face, pressing his fingers over his hidden eyes. Endless question marks popped up in Hae-Ri's head. This looked very much like a gesture of a crying man who was trying to hide his tears, and for so many reasons, was extremely odd under these circumstances. She didn't know what to make of it, and just stared at him, which slowly turned into a habit. Her common sense almost won over, telling her it was impossible for this thug to be crying right now, and even if he was, it couldn't be for a good reason. Either he was crazy, or he was so overcome by the sight of feet that he couldn't contain himself, a reasoning which made her think that maybe this type of common sense wasn't that common, and left her even more confused that before.
Her captor finally straightened up, switched the flashlight off and turned to his left, immediately turning back to her with a what seemed to be a jacket in hand. He spread it out and neatly laid it over her knees. She didn't have time to appreciate the gesture, which she did - as the cold was seeping into her bones for a while now. He bent forward again, and very carefully wrapped a hand around her calf. His warm, long fingers dug into her baer skin. She was taken by surprise, but the pain caused by the movement as he slowly lifted her leg from under her was overwhelming, overshadowing everything else. Even so, the pleasant warmth of his palm was registered somewhere at the back of her mind.
Hae-Ri was already feeling thoroughly dizzy when her captor lowered her leg so it came to rest across his lap, which made the jacket that covered her slide sideways. She was wearing a dress with a rather long slit over her thigh, and even through the pain, she was very aware of that as he spread her legs apart. Instinctively, her top priority became to keep herself covered. She used her free hand to grab at the fabric and made sure it concealed her properly. She was sitting in an awkward position and felt extremely uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. She tried to adjust her position, turning her body to face him, and kept her legs as close together as she could under her cover.
Maybe feet really are his thing… She couldn't help but think as she watched him stare at her foot, when she caught a glimpse of it and finally understood why. Her ankle and the bridge of her foot were swollen beyond proportion, a rainbow of colors decorated the skin that was about split open from the pressure the two straps were inflicting on it. It looked hideous. Not even a pervert would get pleasure from looking at that, she was sure. And though it made her feel better and quieted down her raving mind, another part of her started to panic at the sight. She didn't expect it to look that bad. Though it hurt quite badly, she assumed it wasn't broken. She experienced broken bones before, and this didn't feel like it, but looking at it now made her second-guess herself.
Her captor proceeded to unbuckle her shoe strap. That, on itself, was bearable. The next stage proved to be not so pleasant, to say the least, as he tried to pry her swollen ankle out of the shoe, which was significantly less roomy than it was when she first put it on this morning. Though he clearly tried to be gentle about it, the way he pulled changed the angle of her ankle an almost unnoticeable degree, and the pressure it caused was enough to make her see starts. A cry escaped her lips, not for the first time today. Her body acted on its own as her hand flew out and grabbed her captor's shirt, pulling him away from her foot with every bit of energy she had, which wasn't much. He then stopped and turned around to face her. His eyes were completely shadowed under his hat, his black mask covered his face from just below his eyes and down under his chin. She looked back at him, seeing nothing in particular, and he soon returned to his work, continuing his war against the stubborn shoe. He tried a different approach this time, and jiggled it a little from side to side, very gently. Breathing hard and whimpering, she was exhausted and her head felt hazy, the only thing that kept her conscious was the unbearable pain caused by taking the damn shoe off.
Finally, with some effort on her captor's part, her foot was freed, revealing a sickening indentation on the bridge, where the lower strap of pearls and crystals dug into her swollen skin. Being out of the shoe felt so much better, which made her think that it looked so bad only because it was left inside that hellish shoe for hours, or at least she hoped that was the case. She couldn't even begin thinking about what she would do if it was actually broken. It would definitely thwart her plan to escape, maybe indefinitely, especially if she was to be handed over to someone less accommodating then her current captor before she had a chance to recover.
Her captor didn't waste any time, and dropped the shoe behind the driver's seat, moving on to examine the damage. Every touch sent a bolt of lightning along her spine. The progress was slow as she kept pulling him away, though he didn't seem to be very impressed by that. Each time he allowed her a few seconds of rest before he went back to his examination.
"Let go!", she ordered as she pulled him back while he was in the midst of examining the joint of her ankle, gently trying to move it this and that way. One of his hands was holding her shin just above the ankle, the palm of the other cupped her heel, as he rotated it very slowly, checking for movement range. Though the fact that she on pulled his shirt seemed to have no actual impact, he stopped and allowed her a moment to recover while keeping his hands on her. Though her injured foot felt like it was on fire, his warm hand around her shin was actually a comfort against her cool, bare skin. His body seemed to be running hot, and being this close to him in this cold night was surprisingly a blessing. His warm lap chased the cold out of the chilled bones of her leg. She tried to focus on the cozy feeling, ignoring the unfavorable circumstances under which it occurred, as she took deep breaths and readied herself for the next round.
"Stop it, it hurts!", she pulled at his shirt again as he pressed his fingers along the sole of her foot, and he stopped immediately, allowing her another brief breather before moving on. She wondered how much longer he was going to torture her, feeling like she was about to reach her limit any minute now, and then her break was over.
"Ah!", she finally cried out after trying to hold it in as he felt along her metatarsal bones, gliding his fingers dexterously over the bridge of her foot. He stopped at once, making her think that it was just another short break, but thankfully, he was actually done. She thought she heard him sigh, but she was so out of it that she couldn't rule out the possibility that it was actually a product of her imagination. All things considered, she was pleased with the result. Though the pain was extreme while she was touched or moved, it didn't feel like she had a fracture, and the pain was manageable once her foot was left alone.
Hae-Ri's lids were heavy, her eyes rolled back every time she blinked as she tried to stay awake. It took her a few moments to notice that something wasn't quite right. Her captor was frozen like a statue in his seat. It's been a while since he moved after finishing his assessment of her condition, and it looked rather unusual. His head was hanging low, and for a moment she though he fell asleep. Wanting to wrap things up quickly, she opened her mouth to speak up, when suddenly he shook his head. The unexpected movement made her already loose grip on his shirt come undone, as he reached a hand to his face, and much like before, pressed a finger and thumb to his eyes. Seeing how exhausted she was, it was only logical than this man was also beat after going through this day. Kidnapping, car chase, gunfight and driving for hours... As questionable and shady as all those might be, he was bound to be tired after going through all that. She felt silly for thinking this gesture had to do with crying. Seeing it now, it was obviously an attempt to drive sleep away from his eyes.
Apparently recovered, he then turned his attention to the plastic box again, taking out a bandage which he tightly wrapped around her ankle and foot. Seeing as he didn't use a splint, it seemed like he concluded, much like her, that there were no broken bones. He inserted two fingers inside the bandage that he wrapped around her, probably making sure that it was roomy enough, and seemed to be satisfied with the result as he tucked the edge in.
Hae-Ri was only half aware of what was going on when a sharp pain washed over her once more, as her captor suddenly decided to bend down. He quickly sat back up, thank heaven, and very, very gently, put an olive-green sock on her bandaged foot. The sock fit well over the mass of bandage, it was large and thick and warm, reaching up more than halfway to her knee. Eager to wrap things up for the night, as fighting her fatigue was getting harder and harder, she didn't even consider the fact that the guy next to her was actually a criminal with unknown intentions. She raised her right leg and placed it on top of his knee, as if they were old friends and this was a most normal and natural thing for her to do.
Her captor didn't seem taken aback, and quickly took off her shoe and put the second sock on for her. Grateful for the gesture that will help her keep the cold away, and mostly grateful that they were finally done, she lifted both her legs off him. She instantly missed his warmth, and even more so, regretted moving so carelessly, as bolt of pain ran up her leg to the base of her spine. She quickly put her feet down, gently placed them on the floor, and ignored another surge of pain as she waited for her injured foot to get used to the weight.
Though she was still very cold, the socks and jacket that he provided her with did help quite a bit. She pulled the big jacket to covered herself up, leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and fell asleep in an instant.