10. Dinner and dessert
During the early evening Van Cleaf looked out for a proper dining place. Finally he parked in front of a Steak house. The place was large, but it's location a bit offside the road surrounded by open fields was a sign for often changing customers. Before they got out he turned and look into Sandrine's eyes: "I guess I don't have to remind you that you get other and certainly yourself in a lot of trouble, if you try anything in there."
"Certainly not," she said, then he broke eye contact and left the car. She did the same and together they walked into the restaurant. They waited for a second and then a waitress showed them to a table. There were no chairs only a bench, but it was much more comfortable as in an ordinary café. The girl sat herself so she could face Pick.
Unfortunately by the time they had ordered their meals Sandrine had gotten the full attention of the five males at the neighbour table. Short after they had sat down, the leader started to make bad jokes. Also Sandrine could not see them, she saw that Pick look over and was not very amused. The guys were either very drunk or very stupid. Then one guy pulled at her hair. She turned to advise him to stop this, but he just made a disgusting gesture with his tongue and mumbled something like: "How about us?"
"That is a rather hopeless dream," Pick had watched this and decided to end this the one way or the other. Even if it would ruin the meal, he hated this behaviour and especially towards his only friend's daughter. Sandrine took the chance and slid towards the window. The sound of Pick's voice was so deadly that anyone who had at least a bit of his mind left would leave immediately. Obviously the guy was stupid, since he had not smelled like someone who had drank a lot.
"And why is that," he demanded. It was clear that he looked for a chance to impress his buddies, who followed the scene with great interest. None of them were older than twenty-two . Their outfit looked like they had seen to many western.
"Maybe because she hangs on real men," he said in the same tone looking towards Sandrine who had meanwhile arrived at his side.
"So and you are?!" The guy tried to mock. Before Pick could think of the best way to show the foul how wrong he was, his hostage suddenly said with a warning hint in her voice: "More than you could stand."
As a result the others started to laugh out loud, which caused that their spokesmen went red and rushed out of the restaurant. Van Cleaf was really impressed. "You hit the right spot."
Sandrine was relieved that after all this had ended without any bloodshed. She doubted not a second that Pick could have send all of them in a few seconds to a hospital or worse to a cemetery. Now that this was over she realised that she sat very close by Van Cleaf. She had been in danger and instinctively she had fled to the safest place. She suddenly had to smile, strange or not, besides Pick she felt safe. Furthermore it was definitely the safest place she could think of.
Since he did not seem to be disturbed by her presence she decided to remain at his side. They did not spoke a word until the waitress brought their order. They both had ordered steak and also both agreed that they had eaten better, it was quite good and much better than anything they had eaten in the past days.
Pick enjoyed the evening. It was not mainly because of the food, but because of Sandrine. For the first time she was the one coming closer, also it was due to the pack of scum bags he interpreted it as a sign of her awareness. She knew how dangerous he was and turned to him for protection. Had not he want this from the beginning with? The only thing that disturbed him was how comfortable he felt in this role, but as long as he felt like this only for her he considered it to be alright.
For Sandrine was this dinner much more. After the other guys had left and business turned to normal activities, she began to realise that for the first time she really felt free. This was all she had missed. Going out to a nice restaurant, dressed in something that turned heads and all this with a really handsome guy. Maybe the guy was her kidnapper, but he acted more like a bodyguard.
Today she had talked to him already more than to her father. He never had listened to her, he never had given her a straight answer to a question and most of all he never had taken her seriously in any conversation. That was weird, but she did not cared, because she was to busy enjoying this meal as much as she could. Unfortunately Pick broke off very soon. He paid right after they had finished and walked her to the toilet.
She found it was a bit unnecessary, but on the other side, she did not found the courage to tell him this. Doing this would mean that she had to admit to herself, that she was quite comfortable with this situation. He gave her a warning look before she went inside the ladies room. It was empty, maybe because the waitresses used another room for the personal. It did not matter. She was glad that she had the opportunity since she had no idea how far Van Cleaf wanted to go tonight.
As she walked out she could not see Pick and felt a bit panic rushing over her. She looked around, but he was not anywhere in the restaurant. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. The girl was relieved to see that it was Pick. He had used the chance and had gone to the men's room. He smiled at her, thinking that she had thought about attempting an escape. He got no idea that Sandrine's pouting expression was about him leaving her alone.
They left the restaurant. It was dark and only two single streetlights enlightened the middle of the parking lot. Still Pick recognised the dark figures which were hiding behind the vehicles. He informed Sandrine that they got company and walked down the stairs towards the enlightened space. The girl noticed the amused tone and frowned, but still she followed him close by.
It were the guys from before. The left the shadows of the cars and blocked their way. The leader know wearing a silly cowboy-hat was obviously chosen because he was the tallest and the one with the largest mouth. His eyes were wandering from Sandrine to Pick as he said: "No let's see who can stand more."
Van Cleaf gave her a sign to stay behind. Not to late the spokes man rushed towards him. Even though Pick was smaller he easily blocked the attack and broke the attacker's arm. He showed the guy next to him a triumphing smile and instantly the guy felt the need to perform his own attack. Two of the fellows joined him and the last one decided to take care of Sandrine.
For a moment Pick considered to pull his gun, but this was like calling the police right away. So he kicked the first one down. As the next one came he was ready to face him. He was much stronger than the thin guy before him and grabbed his arm as he tried to throw a punch on him. Before he knew what the stranger was doing, he felt the fists of his friend penetrating his rips.
While grabbed by the remaining guy, Sandrine instantly rose her hands scratching through his face. "My eyes," he yelled pressing his hands on the wound unable to stop the bleeding. He yelled and pressed his hands before his eyes. Even then he could not stop the bleeding. Momentarily blinded he could not stop the girl who hurried without thinking out of sight. Behind a car she stopped. Nobody has seen or followed her. Sandrine looked over to her kidnapper who was doing pretty well for someone attacked by a larger group.
All of his opponents were bleeding and dirt marked the spots on their clothing where they had hit the ground. The guys were too inexperienced, too slow and had no co-ordination in their attack. It was not like Van Cleaf got not hit at all, only that it was not effective. Pick otherwise knew exactly where he had to place his fists to cause great damage.
Soon all four guys lay either knocked out or moaning on the ground. Then Pick saw the last guy still holding his eye and cursing. He did not saw Sandrine, he thought that now she might have taken the change to went inside and call the police. Annoyed he walked over to the poor guy, who joined his friends with tree broken rips and a smashed ankle.
Kindly surprise he saw Sandrine rising behind a car and walking towards him. Not even for a second she had thought about escaping. Pick figured out that she had time to think and knew therefore that she would only have endangered everyone in the restaurant. Still that did not explain why she had not even felt the slightest impulse to do so.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thanks," she answered looking around.
"Then let's go," he said and went to the car. Quick they left the scene behind. Pick was deep in thoughts. He knew that it was quite unusual that she had not used this opportunity to evade him. He had to find out more about this.
"No time to call for help?" he asked.
"It didn't occur to me, that you might need it," she replied and sounded almost a bit sarcastic.
That was not what he had expected to hear. For her it was really an odd thing to say. Or was she upset about his performance. It had amused him a bit, also he missed a more challenging target.
"Do you think I overestimated?"
"No, they begged for it," Sandrine shrugged her shoulders. Those guys had needed a lesson and now they would not bother anyone else for a long time. She looked on her hands; under her nails where still shreds of flesh and blood. The girl cleaned it. Violence was not her thing and she could not understand why Van Cleaf enjoyed it so much. Since she did not want to ask him, she would have to continue wondering.
Again an uneasy silence was about them. After some time Sandrine decided to end this.
"I don't want that anyone, who does not deserve it, gets hurt or killed because of me, that's why I didn't try anything."
"I thought so," he said. So he believed her, she looked surprised to him. This was an unimportant reason, but telling him one of the other reasons was out of question. She did not know them by words, she only was aware that something else very strong was there.
"And now you expect me to trust you and continue without the handcuffs." He said and turned with a teasing smile on his face. Sandrine felt a certain heat in her chest. She was angry, for once because she had hoped that he would consider forgetting about the handcuffs and second because she ever mentioned it.
"Certainly not. Well - forget it," she fired back. If he wanted to tease her again, she would show him, that she was standing against it. Also she wished he had not started this again, she was glad. Glad because, she already started to feel too comfortable with him.
This caused Pick only to smile more. He had actually decided that from now on there was no need to chain her anymore. If it was just about him, he would keep them, but this was about his friend. Considering this almost irresistible need to touch and to play with her, he did very well.
Sandrine was glad that he did not drive on too long that night. She was even more happier as he went to bed without chaining her. If she only knew what plans Fouchon had for her. Everything that had happened pointed to a good ending, also she might see things more positive than she should.
Maybe Fouchon had given her mother a promise to ensure that if something happens to her he would take care of her children or something like that. He probably had not the time to think of a good explanation which Pick could present her. In fact the time might have been that short he could not even inform his right hand properly. The girl decided to hold on to that idea. She knew she could live with that. Whether she liked Pick taking place in this future or not she could not tell. Seeing him as a bodyguard Sandrine felt more than safe. There was without a doubt nothing that could possible harm her - except himself. That was the fact she could not ignore. So maybe she just needed to learn to live with it.
After his hostage had fallen asleep he called Fouchon from his cellular. It was very convenient that he was busy so Pick had a good excuse of not telling him about all the things he had discovered. Fouchon gave him further information about the contacts and the best escape route.
During the early evening Van Cleaf looked out for a proper dining place. Finally he parked in front of a Steak house. The place was large, but it's location a bit offside the road surrounded by open fields was a sign for often changing customers. Before they got out he turned and look into Sandrine's eyes: "I guess I don't have to remind you that you get other and certainly yourself in a lot of trouble, if you try anything in there."
"Certainly not," she said, then he broke eye contact and left the car. She did the same and together they walked into the restaurant. They waited for a second and then a waitress showed them to a table. There were no chairs only a bench, but it was much more comfortable as in an ordinary café. The girl sat herself so she could face Pick.
Unfortunately by the time they had ordered their meals Sandrine had gotten the full attention of the five males at the neighbour table. Short after they had sat down, the leader started to make bad jokes. Also Sandrine could not see them, she saw that Pick look over and was not very amused. The guys were either very drunk or very stupid. Then one guy pulled at her hair. She turned to advise him to stop this, but he just made a disgusting gesture with his tongue and mumbled something like: "How about us?"
"That is a rather hopeless dream," Pick had watched this and decided to end this the one way or the other. Even if it would ruin the meal, he hated this behaviour and especially towards his only friend's daughter. Sandrine took the chance and slid towards the window. The sound of Pick's voice was so deadly that anyone who had at least a bit of his mind left would leave immediately. Obviously the guy was stupid, since he had not smelled like someone who had drank a lot.
"And why is that," he demanded. It was clear that he looked for a chance to impress his buddies, who followed the scene with great interest. None of them were older than twenty-two . Their outfit looked like they had seen to many western.
"Maybe because she hangs on real men," he said in the same tone looking towards Sandrine who had meanwhile arrived at his side.
"So and you are?!" The guy tried to mock. Before Pick could think of the best way to show the foul how wrong he was, his hostage suddenly said with a warning hint in her voice: "More than you could stand."
As a result the others started to laugh out loud, which caused that their spokesmen went red and rushed out of the restaurant. Van Cleaf was really impressed. "You hit the right spot."
Sandrine was relieved that after all this had ended without any bloodshed. She doubted not a second that Pick could have send all of them in a few seconds to a hospital or worse to a cemetery. Now that this was over she realised that she sat very close by Van Cleaf. She had been in danger and instinctively she had fled to the safest place. She suddenly had to smile, strange or not, besides Pick she felt safe. Furthermore it was definitely the safest place she could think of.
Since he did not seem to be disturbed by her presence she decided to remain at his side. They did not spoke a word until the waitress brought their order. They both had ordered steak and also both agreed that they had eaten better, it was quite good and much better than anything they had eaten in the past days.
Pick enjoyed the evening. It was not mainly because of the food, but because of Sandrine. For the first time she was the one coming closer, also it was due to the pack of scum bags he interpreted it as a sign of her awareness. She knew how dangerous he was and turned to him for protection. Had not he want this from the beginning with? The only thing that disturbed him was how comfortable he felt in this role, but as long as he felt like this only for her he considered it to be alright.
For Sandrine was this dinner much more. After the other guys had left and business turned to normal activities, she began to realise that for the first time she really felt free. This was all she had missed. Going out to a nice restaurant, dressed in something that turned heads and all this with a really handsome guy. Maybe the guy was her kidnapper, but he acted more like a bodyguard.
Today she had talked to him already more than to her father. He never had listened to her, he never had given her a straight answer to a question and most of all he never had taken her seriously in any conversation. That was weird, but she did not cared, because she was to busy enjoying this meal as much as she could. Unfortunately Pick broke off very soon. He paid right after they had finished and walked her to the toilet.
She found it was a bit unnecessary, but on the other side, she did not found the courage to tell him this. Doing this would mean that she had to admit to herself, that she was quite comfortable with this situation. He gave her a warning look before she went inside the ladies room. It was empty, maybe because the waitresses used another room for the personal. It did not matter. She was glad that she had the opportunity since she had no idea how far Van Cleaf wanted to go tonight.
As she walked out she could not see Pick and felt a bit panic rushing over her. She looked around, but he was not anywhere in the restaurant. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. The girl was relieved to see that it was Pick. He had used the chance and had gone to the men's room. He smiled at her, thinking that she had thought about attempting an escape. He got no idea that Sandrine's pouting expression was about him leaving her alone.
They left the restaurant. It was dark and only two single streetlights enlightened the middle of the parking lot. Still Pick recognised the dark figures which were hiding behind the vehicles. He informed Sandrine that they got company and walked down the stairs towards the enlightened space. The girl noticed the amused tone and frowned, but still she followed him close by.
It were the guys from before. The left the shadows of the cars and blocked their way. The leader know wearing a silly cowboy-hat was obviously chosen because he was the tallest and the one with the largest mouth. His eyes were wandering from Sandrine to Pick as he said: "No let's see who can stand more."
Van Cleaf gave her a sign to stay behind. Not to late the spokes man rushed towards him. Even though Pick was smaller he easily blocked the attack and broke the attacker's arm. He showed the guy next to him a triumphing smile and instantly the guy felt the need to perform his own attack. Two of the fellows joined him and the last one decided to take care of Sandrine.
For a moment Pick considered to pull his gun, but this was like calling the police right away. So he kicked the first one down. As the next one came he was ready to face him. He was much stronger than the thin guy before him and grabbed his arm as he tried to throw a punch on him. Before he knew what the stranger was doing, he felt the fists of his friend penetrating his rips.
While grabbed by the remaining guy, Sandrine instantly rose her hands scratching through his face. "My eyes," he yelled pressing his hands on the wound unable to stop the bleeding. He yelled and pressed his hands before his eyes. Even then he could not stop the bleeding. Momentarily blinded he could not stop the girl who hurried without thinking out of sight. Behind a car she stopped. Nobody has seen or followed her. Sandrine looked over to her kidnapper who was doing pretty well for someone attacked by a larger group.
All of his opponents were bleeding and dirt marked the spots on their clothing where they had hit the ground. The guys were too inexperienced, too slow and had no co-ordination in their attack. It was not like Van Cleaf got not hit at all, only that it was not effective. Pick otherwise knew exactly where he had to place his fists to cause great damage.
Soon all four guys lay either knocked out or moaning on the ground. Then Pick saw the last guy still holding his eye and cursing. He did not saw Sandrine, he thought that now she might have taken the change to went inside and call the police. Annoyed he walked over to the poor guy, who joined his friends with tree broken rips and a smashed ankle.
Kindly surprise he saw Sandrine rising behind a car and walking towards him. Not even for a second she had thought about escaping. Pick figured out that she had time to think and knew therefore that she would only have endangered everyone in the restaurant. Still that did not explain why she had not even felt the slightest impulse to do so.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thanks," she answered looking around.
"Then let's go," he said and went to the car. Quick they left the scene behind. Pick was deep in thoughts. He knew that it was quite unusual that she had not used this opportunity to evade him. He had to find out more about this.
"No time to call for help?" he asked.
"It didn't occur to me, that you might need it," she replied and sounded almost a bit sarcastic.
That was not what he had expected to hear. For her it was really an odd thing to say. Or was she upset about his performance. It had amused him a bit, also he missed a more challenging target.
"Do you think I overestimated?"
"No, they begged for it," Sandrine shrugged her shoulders. Those guys had needed a lesson and now they would not bother anyone else for a long time. She looked on her hands; under her nails where still shreds of flesh and blood. The girl cleaned it. Violence was not her thing and she could not understand why Van Cleaf enjoyed it so much. Since she did not want to ask him, she would have to continue wondering.
Again an uneasy silence was about them. After some time Sandrine decided to end this.
"I don't want that anyone, who does not deserve it, gets hurt or killed because of me, that's why I didn't try anything."
"I thought so," he said. So he believed her, she looked surprised to him. This was an unimportant reason, but telling him one of the other reasons was out of question. She did not know them by words, she only was aware that something else very strong was there.
"And now you expect me to trust you and continue without the handcuffs." He said and turned with a teasing smile on his face. Sandrine felt a certain heat in her chest. She was angry, for once because she had hoped that he would consider forgetting about the handcuffs and second because she ever mentioned it.
"Certainly not. Well - forget it," she fired back. If he wanted to tease her again, she would show him, that she was standing against it. Also she wished he had not started this again, she was glad. Glad because, she already started to feel too comfortable with him.
This caused Pick only to smile more. He had actually decided that from now on there was no need to chain her anymore. If it was just about him, he would keep them, but this was about his friend. Considering this almost irresistible need to touch and to play with her, he did very well.
Sandrine was glad that he did not drive on too long that night. She was even more happier as he went to bed without chaining her. If she only knew what plans Fouchon had for her. Everything that had happened pointed to a good ending, also she might see things more positive than she should.
Maybe Fouchon had given her mother a promise to ensure that if something happens to her he would take care of her children or something like that. He probably had not the time to think of a good explanation which Pick could present her. In fact the time might have been that short he could not even inform his right hand properly. The girl decided to hold on to that idea. She knew she could live with that. Whether she liked Pick taking place in this future or not she could not tell. Seeing him as a bodyguard Sandrine felt more than safe. There was without a doubt nothing that could possible harm her - except himself. That was the fact she could not ignore. So maybe she just needed to learn to live with it.
After his hostage had fallen asleep he called Fouchon from his cellular. It was very convenient that he was busy so Pick had a good excuse of not telling him about all the things he had discovered. Fouchon gave him further information about the contacts and the best escape route.
