The first gear, then the second gear. So far so good.
"Watch your RPM gauge. You shouldn't shift gear before it's above 2, close to 2.5."
OK back to first, brake, indicator to the right, check the road, all clear, throttle, clutch, second gear, throttle. She knew the mechanics. She could name every piece of Nicky's Mini Cooper, probably date them and name their inventor too. The Highway Code had no secret for her either. It became obvious as soon as they boarded the car together, her in the driving seat, on the right, him spilling instructions and advice. But he never asked why or how. She appreciated that. Nothing but a quick comment when Tony came to find them the first evening:
"She had a head start. Tomorrow, she'll burn rubber around town!"
The joke was sweet. Their discretion about her past life even more. She didn't feel comfortable discussing it anyway. She didn't really care that this tact of theirs was part of a larger scheme to make her focus on life's positive side. She had absolutely nothing to lose so she might as well trust them blindly. Worst case, it would be over in a few days.
She had been tricked so many times before. Men and their promises. Her, gullible, naive. It had hurt each and every time. She swore to herself she wouldn't fall for it again and yet, here she was: placing her fate in the hands of a stranger. What was it about him?
"Make it left at the next crossroads."
Mirrors, indicator, clutch, throttle. The confidence? All the men she served were leaders. Whether a small gang or a whole cartel. It might have been an illusion, even to them, but power turns men confident.
"There, take the second lane, and then you can merge."
Mirrors, indicators, throttle. The expertise? She had discussed with other girls: some of her masters were deemed competent in the art of pleasing a woman. Yet she never received anything but coarseness and ruthlessness. Many times had she wondered if the problem came from her. But if it were, then how was this man so gentle to her?
"Congratulations! You're driving on the motorway!"
Throttle, throttle. Maybe that was it, the gentleness? His smile was radiant. She recognized pride in it. Nobody had ever shown pride for her. She blushed and felt the rush of the freeway, all these cars speeding around her. She stepped on it and overtook a van. The feelings of dominance and freedom were intoxicating. Without realizing it, she stretched the corners of her mouth and wore the brightest of smiles. Soon, she felt him staring and embarrassment flushed her. She called back her dimples and anxiously glanced his way, staying aware of the traffic around. He understood he unsettled her and focused back on the road, but not before shrugging it off with a:
"It's just that it suits you."
He kept a grin on his face. Or maybe that was what made her trust him, his smile? He sure was a handsome man. And muscled with that. The kind of physique who would intimidate any person at fault but filled her with reassurance and courage. But she had been abused by men bigger than him who didn't grant her any kind of protection whatsoever.
She concluded it was the combination of it all. And just then, it appeared to her that this trust was mutual: letting a suicidal learner driver transport you at full speed over the highway took some balls. For the first time ever, she was responsible for someone else's life. That felt good. It took him less than two days to make her feel so whole. She shook her head vigorously: careful sister, he might just be keeping his cards close to his brawny chest. She smirked stupidly, this morning's shirtless vision fresh in her mind. She just really wanted to trust him, that's all. And if he lied, like all the others, there were so many ways to end it. For now, she accepted to follow him wherever. She, for one, was the kind to respect her own decision.

"Oh there! There's a spot."
Yeah, it was a parallel parking. Not the funniest part of driving.
"Just like we practiced at home.", he encouraged her.
Home. What a weird choice of word.
"You could go back a bit more. Yes, just like that. Now spin the wheel. Yup, you've got it. First try!"
The Mini is not called a Mini for nothing. She fits everywhere. That was not a hard exercise. Yet he seemed so happy, it sipped through her. She beamed again, switching the engine off. He knew better than making another comment about it but he couldn't help devouring her with his eyes. She felt her cheeks warm up. Any other man, any other place, she would have felt that all too familiar ache in her stomach, that clenching apprehension and tension of her body, getting ready for the tortures to come. But not this time. She felt playful. She flung the keys at him and exited the car. He mirrored. She was looking all around her, discovering a world without chains and bars. Well… there were plenty of bars here actually. What was that place he brought her to?
"Have you ever had takoyaki?" She shook her head as he caught up with her. "How can you say no to a life that has takoyaki?"
He captured her hand in his own and tugged on her arm, compelling her to follow his steps. She let all of her cells tag along. The way he was guiding her had nothing coercive. Somehow she knew she could get loose of him anytime. And that only made her wish he would never let go. Was that a trick? Was he just more clever, manipulative than the others?
A flashy red light broke her questioning: they were now strolling down a narrow paved street lined with food stands. Vapours, smells and shapes like she had never seen before. She pulled herself to his level and mechanically ensnared his bicep with both arms, clinging onto him. Her changing range of emotions tired her, quite frankly. And there were the wonderment and the learning to deal with too: she twisted her head left and right, curious of everything, using all her senses to imprint these discoveries in her memory, unaware he was focusing on her, taking in her reactions. He led the way to a small stall covered with a candy red tarp. She froze in front of one of those miniature wooden boat covered with ice and seafood, like she was now challenging the whole fabric of her reality. She was frowning, tilting her head and visibly struggling to understand the point of it. He burst into laughter, startling her.
"Oh sorry", he articulated through his muffled giggling, "You're right, it's very stupid, I don't know why they do that."
Her mouth stretched and she would have laughed if she had a voice. He dragged her back on track and lifted his targeted stand's noren to slide under. It felt cosy. The old man behind the counter welcomed them, his eyes worn out by the steam no doubt constantly filling up the tiny kitchen space he spent his days in, escaping over to the patrons' side to create a warm snug atmosphere.
"Nicky! Long time no see!"
The man's wrinkles drew into amusement and genuine delight at the sight of his friend.
"Oh Asao, it's only been two weeks you know."
"At my age, two weeks're like an eternity."
"Sorry old friend, I had to give a hand to this lovely lady.", he gently nudged her elbow as she was taking place on the high stool. She looked up, content with the casual tone of the conversation.
"Ooooh a lovely friend indeed.", the cook commented, "Well, my dear, my friends' friends are my friends too. So please consider me such."
Esmeralda perceived no perversion whatsoever from the man, which surprised and pleased her. She nodded, grinning widely, and made a mental note that, if anything were to happen to her protector, she might be able to come here for help. And she felt Nicky's pride again.
"Can you make it two house specials for us, Asao?"
"Coming right up!", the man cackled before turning his back to them to concentrate on his pans.
Nicky let some minutes pass by, giving her the occasion to get accustomed to their surroundings, settling in, feeling comfortable.
"Why driving?", he simply asked when he assumed her available.
She was in such a good mood, which was not a familiar experience, that she would not lose her smile. He watched her graceful fingers answer him:
'They never let me. It was a means of escape.'
"There are so many things to discover and learn in this world, yet it was your very first -and only- request when we asked you what you wanted to do this week."
She widened her smile as an answer. She was not very… talkative. Obviously. But knowing he could understand her, she still kept her words to herself. She seemed to consider they were clever enough to fill the blanks. Nicky also recognized restraint in everything she gave them: there was distrust in her demeanour; she was expecting them to turn against her at any moment. This saddened him more than he could say.
"You know, it takes a normal human being several months to learn driving."
He tried playing her game, leaving the many implications of that statement hanging in the air. But he knew his limitations. That woman was way more intelligent than him. Her smirk turned enigmatic, almost bitter. He would not be able to get to her standards so he might as well put his feet in it.
"They never let you hold a wheel but they gave you access to computers?"
Soon after settling inside after her diving attempt, her eyes had met Tony's laptop, always lying around in the living room. She had pounced on it, starting fiddling with its keys and buttons. Nicky was a stranger to technology. He had a phone of course, a smartphone even, for business purposes. But Tony was the one he thought fluent with emails and internet. Until he saw her playing with this computer like a pianist would play Liszt's La Campanella. The first thing she had opened was a black window with green lines superposing themselves and when she had started typing, it was like she was literally conversing with the machine. Soon enough, an all too familiar logo popped up on the screen.
"Hey! That's our bank account!", had complained Tony (again, not Nicky's area).
But he had then remained silent as numbers went up. All in all, it appeared obvious she was an informatics genius. His associate tried solving that mystery but she stayed focused, deaf to his questioning, until sleep caught up with her. The next day, Nicky had made sure to keep her in the car, fulfilling the only wish she had taken the time to express. His purpose was only to indulge her and, in the process, he hoped she would open up a little. But he knew that she would need solid proofs of their probity. So there was no inquisition, no reference to anything but the here and now, during the two days-long lesson he had planned for her. Now, he counted on the frequency and intensity of her unassured stares and that life-changing smile of hers to probe her sentiments a little.
"Did you maybe learn, hum, 'computering' before your, hum, past life?"
She did that snort again, that unamused sound, always punctuated with a raised eyebrow. He was starting to grasp the meaning of it. It was sardonic.
'The rich ones try to keep me happy. So they let me play with outdated machines.'
Yes, he was getting there.
"Outdated?"
'They were afraid I could reach the internet and call for help.'
"You never managed?"
'If you got the hardware, you can do anything.'
"So you managed."
She hesitated. 'The internet is a somber place. Full of cowards and perverts.'
"No one ever took you seriously?", he tried guessing.
'I quickly understood I could only depend on myself.'
That made a lot of sense. A sex slave's SOS could easily be mistaken for attention seeking on the internet. Who would be crazy enough to risk their life for a stranger? For all these geeks knew, she could have been a trap. Well, for these people, that's what she was. Not for Nicky. And she probably encountered the deviants on there too. He could only imagine how being surrounded by them in real life only made her wish to stay away from more.
"Not even the Police?"
'I hacked their website to force them to look into it.'
"The NPA?"
She nodded and kept on signing. 'By the time they took me seriously, I had been handled to a new owner.'
"And that repeated itself, didn't it?" She nodded again, lowering her head, and it only confirmed the extent of hell he imagined she went through. "How many? Owners, I mean."
She widened her eyes and puffed out her cheeks in a very self-explanatory expression: too many. "But these hacking skills, surely they could be useful somehow?"
She turned her head to face him, a sly grin on her mouth.
'Whenever I was given the chance, I could hack their account or send emails on their behalf, to compromise their situation, destroy their life. It always ended up with me changing house. Whether stolen or given.'
"Never freed or let loose."
'Never.' She tilted her head and gave him a silly face, sticking her tongue out. 'But I had a little control whose bed I ended up in.' She lost the attitude. 'Or cellar.'
"Who would do that?", he blew up suddenly, "I really can't understand these excuses of men." He took a sip from the pint of beer old man Asao had dropped in front of him a moment ago and realized she was gawking at him when he laid it back. He gave her a quizzical look and she very visibly blushed, bringing a hand to her cheek. He understood his compassion felt weird to her. He frowned and shook his head. "What life put you through… No. What these people put you through, it was not right. You can't let it define your existence."
He looked so serious. If she could have found him more handsome, she would have. Stay on your guard gurl, he's only saying this to win his stupid bet. A silence settled. At first, it felt sort of awkward. He could sense she was having that cautious reaction again. But she relaxed under the hypnotizing effect of Asao's cooking. Her smile, that had left her lips for a minute, crept back on. He should try getting back on a lighter subject, maybe.
"It's funny how Laura's clothes fit you so well.", he pointed out, after another sip of beer.
'She's such a kind girl', she signed, thoughtful.
"I wouldn't know." She raised her eyebrows, interrogative. "Tony never let me meet her. That's why he took you to her yesterday night, rather than having her come over."
'Why?'
Nicky chuckled. "He's probably afraid she'd fall in love with me." She full on snorted this time, laughter in her eyes. "What? You think she wouldn't?" She tried to muffle her soundless giggles but her amusement did nothing but spread to him. "When you do this face, you really look like a Kakapo!", he retorted.
She gaped, falsely offended, but seconded her snickering. He finally blurted into laughter, just as Asao set down their plates in front of them, joining in the hilarity. That's a nickname that'll stick.