At the Beginning With You

A few hours (give or take, as it was now dark outside) after the strange event—because, really, there was no other way to describe it—a noise that sounded suspiciously like glass breaking echoed throughout the house.

And again. And again.

It was almost as if someone was purposefully targeting this house, knowing that she was being held captive here, but that was impossible. First of all, for her theory to actually make sense, then it would mean that someone had been following her on her morning jog and consequently witnessed her kidnapping, before tracking her to the house which really didn’t make any sense. And secondly, who could actually predict that she was going to be kidnapped today? After all, it wasn’t as if she was some famous, rich heiress that ran the risk of being kidnapped on a daily basis.

She involuntarily flinched when a particularly loud crack and the subsequent shattering of glass as it made contact with the ground seemed louder than the rest of the noises.

From what she could tell, or rather heard, it appeared as if the glass breaking incidents were happening all around the house, not limited to a particular area or room, but at random, nonetheless. The first sound had come from somewhere beyond this room, the next had sounded even more far away but then it had sounded like glass was breaking right next to the bedroom.

She could only wonder if there was a point to all of this seemingly random glass shattering, and if so, then what the heck it was. Unless the owner of this house had incurred the wrath of some revengeful person, then this was starting to look like an act of vandalism, albeit on the extreme side.

It was a wonder that no one had come to investigate this, as she could tell that this was creating some, if not a lot, of disturbance—although the continuous roar of vehicles from the street and the ever-present rumble of a construction site (at least Ash thought so) did wonders to cover up the noise.

So that begged the question: if a tree fell in the forest but there was no one around to hear it, did it still fall?

And the answer apparently was yes.

Three things happened at once.

The window opposite her exploded and a shadowy figure leapt gracefully into the room just as the door suddenly flung open, and something flew over her head. From which direction she couldn’t tell, but the effect was immediate as whoever was at the door crumpled but by this time, the person who had broken into the room was crouching down beside her, examining the handcuff.

“Who—” The words were barely out of her mouth before Ash stopped in shock, staring open-mouthed as the handcuff sprang open, revealing her sore wrists.

How was that possible? For a second, she could have sworn that the person had blurred over to the fallen body before blurring right back to unlock the handcuff. But that was ridiculous, no one could move that fast, let alone see anything with precision in the dark room.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that she saw the key drop to the ground, inches from her own body, then she would have blamed the lack of lighting in the room for her playing tricks on her eyesight.

“I know that you are very confused right now, but please believe that I will not hurt you.”

Ash startled at the low masculine voice and realised that it was coming from above her. She hadn’t seen him straighten up even though he was probably right in front of her, but then and again, a lot of strange things were happening in her life right now so she chose to ignore that. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed that he had turned on the lamp atop the dresser, casting some light into the room. He, however, was bathed in shadows.

“I’m here to take you somewhere safe. Can you stand?”

Nodding quietly, she gingerly stood up, all the hours of her captivity making her less than steady on her feet and wobbled slightly when pins and needles shot through her right leg.

Almost instantly, an arm was around her waist, steadying her.

Murmuring a word of thanks—whether in relation to keeping her on her feet or to rescuing her, she didn’t know—Ash squinted up at her saviour, trying to get a glimpse of his features. But all she could make out was that he had dark hair and just as dark eyes (…wait, was that a flash of concern?), although the exact colour she couldn’t determine. His arm dropped from her waist and Ash got the strange feeling that he had to force himself to distance from her. Before she could continue that train of thought, he was speaking again, in a calm and collected voice that belied the fact that they were more or less in enemy territory.

“I will explain everything later, but right now, we have to leave this place before reinforcements are sent in. I promise to keep you safe but you need to trust me.”

“Do you trust me?” He asked softly, turning to look at her directly in the eyes. Offhandedly, Ash noted that yes, he really did have gray eyes and quite possibly the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen (…and no, Ash didn’t make it a habit of hers to stare at each and every person’s eyes that she came across).

His stormy gray eyes were fixed on hers, and she was helplessly captivated by its intensity. They said that the eyes were the window to a person’s soul, and in that moment, Ash realised that he was not so different from her.

Granted, she hardly knew a thing about the man standing before her but one look was all she needed to know. She saw the same loneliness, the same despair within his eyes and some part of her, deep down, recognised that he too, must have experienced something traumatic, something which had shaped him into the person he now was.

And for some strange, unexplainable reason, she did. Ash trusted this stranger who she had known for a grand total of five minutes, she trusted that he would never lie to her, trusted that he would not hurt her, but most of all, she trusted him.

It was almost as if… Do I know you?

The world around them faded into the background until it was just him and her. The sound of cars honking and rumbling of machinery all vanished, creating something that was purely for them, their own little world.

An eternity could have passed, or maybe it was just mere seconds, but in that moment…it was just them.

He was all she focused on and his steady gaze was on her. Only her.

Her eyes travelled over his features and it was the deep sincerity emitting from his eyes that convinced her that he wasn’t some freak, sprouting nonsense about rescuing her and such when they all but strangers to each other.

Trust was earned, not given.

He gave a smirk, and Ash supposed that her answer was evident in her eyes.

“Then come with me.” He offered his hand to her and after a moment’s pause, Ash took hold of it. As her hand slipped into his, a sense of comfort, of reassurance washed over her. She lifted up her head and smiled at him, aware that on some subconscious level, he was testing her just as much as she was testing him.

But it didn’t seem so bad, really. To just place her trust in the man before her.

And so began the beginning of her life-altering change, borne from a fate that was sealed with her birth.

Side by side, they walked out of the room. Never once did her hand leave his, nor did his let hers go.

After all, wasn’t he trusting her, too?



“Er…um…who are you? And where exactly are we going?” Ash thought her questions were quite reasonable, especially in light of the fact that they had been walking—maybe to him. She had to half-jog to keep up with his long strides—for god knows how long, and he had yet to utter a single word.

She was also starting to think that first appearances were downright deceiving as the taciturn (...stubborn) male beside refused to answer any of her questions and only alternated between raising an eyebrow or smirking down at her as a form of response. This was far cry from how he had acted before, totally at odds with his gentleness and silent concern for her—which was rather unexpected, now that she thought about it, considering she was all but a stranger to him. Now, it was almost…almost as if he was amused at her!

Indignation welled up inside Ash, and she glared at the obnoxiously silent man beside her. If there was ever a time when being quiet was a crime, then somewhere out there was a tiny cell with his name on it.

Some of her earlier trust—blind trust—in him was starting to erode, which brought up the question of whether he was trustworthy at all to Ash’s confused mind. Either she had been desensitized to the real meaning of the word ‘hero’ or he was simply the exception in this case, because he sure as hell wasn’t acting like how all the movies portrayed the hero to be.

But then why was he still holding her hand?

Ash glanced down at their entwined hands and blushed slightly. And not letting go any time soon…

Because she was looking down at their joined hands, Ash saw the faint line of a scar running from one side of his palm to the other but before she had time to examine it further, she was suddenly turned around in one swift motion—

Calloused but warm hands cupped her face, his eyes suddenly intent.

—and he was kissing her.

Kissing her as if his life depended upon it, kissing her as though he would never be able to do so again. Pouring all his emotions, his frustrations, his worries but most of all, his passion and love for her, into that one kiss that suddenly turned into something so much more than a kiss between two complete strangers.

Later, she would reason that it was the shock of it all, the last event in a continuous string of—nasty little—unexpected occurrences that resulted in her inability to push him away, for her to form any sort of resistance against him.

But right then, right there, she simply had no excuse. No excuse for melting into his kiss nor for feeling the warm pulses of pleasure run through her body and certainly no excuse for actually enjoying the kiss.

In the part of her mind that was still functioning, she could feel his astonishment, his confusion at her easy acceptance of this violation of personal space, of his assault on her lips. Even so, his hands gripped her face tighter, as if in preparation for her imminent struggles.

…or something else.

Had her eyes not drifted shut at that moment, Ash would have noticed that his eyes were strangely focused over her shoulder, behind her.

As suddenly as the tender pressure at her lips had come, it just as quickly disappeared while a muscled arm wrapped itself around her waist. Her eyes snapped open at the loss of warmth—although not a total loss, as heat was transferring from his body to hers—and a perplexed frown marred her features as she was prodded into a walk.

By now, enough sense had returned to her head and Ash was feeling understandably confused. Was it really normal for strangers to be so touchy-feely?

If that wasn’t enough, the man also lowered his face towards her own and for all intents and purposes, appeared to be whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Or at least, that was the conclusion that someone passing by might have deduced.

Ash, however, knew differently.

Because in reality, what was he really whispering—damn his rich voice, sending shivers down her body—into her ear?

“We’re been followed.”

Well, she certainly didn’t expect him to utter those words.

Trying to calm down her beating heart (was it because of his words or his actions?), Ash mutely nodded while discreetly glancing—from her peripheral view—around for their supposed ‘tail’. Of course, the pitch-black cover of night didn’t help at all and she already had enough trouble seeing her own feet, let alone anyone following them.

…which was probably why she tripped over something that she didn’t care to identify and would have fallen flat on her behind were it not for his arm supporting her. Again.

She felt rather than saw the smirk on his face and though he said nothing, he was clearly amused. Again.

Really, this was just turning out to be a spectacular day, wasn’t it? First, she was kidnapped by god knows who, injected with some kind of a drug to knock her out and was dumped on the floor beside a bed. Then came her knight in shining armor—when he wasn’t being an obnoxious jerk. And now they were being followed. Followed.

So then why weren’t they trying to escape?

“Shouldn’t we be getting away instead of…and why are we stopping?” Gritting her teeth, Ash allowed herself to be pulled to a stop, although she was starting to question the man’s logic at halting when being pursued.

It was pure common sense that when one was being followed, as he seemed to think they were, then the last thing said person would do was to stop, thereby allowing the pursuer to gain ground and—

“Kiss me,” he breathed, running a hand through her hair and all rationality flew clear from her mind. It was not his normal voice, so calm and collected…although how Ash knew his normal voice from his not-so-normal voice was beyond her.

“Wh—?” Her mouth dropped open in shocked disbelief, only to snap closed when no words would come out.

Click.

—what was that noise?

Almost like she was suddenly contagious, he brushed past her without a word leaving her utterly bewildered.

For just one second a wave of hurt washed through her, so strong was the feeling of deep and aching hollowness of being abandoned, rejected.

Was it…something I did?

Stiffly, almost unwillingly, Ash turned around and half-heartedly squinted through the darkness, wondering if she would see the faint outline of his figure walking away or the emptiness of the street before her, devoid of any life.

Suffice to say, what Ash did see was neither of her assumptions.

She blinked. Then blinked. And blinked once again.

After ascertaining that yes, he was still here and no, he hadn’t left—abandoned—her, her curiousity was sparked and she walked closer to him. He seemed to be crouching in the darkness, occasionally poking…the air?

When she was right next to him, Ash finally realised what he was doing and then everything made sense. All of his earlier actions, his words, the situation they were in, all connected to form one irrefutable fact. He used me.

And anger—was it really anger?—like never before shot through her body, but why was she feeling this way? He had only being trying to save her, to protect her from being captured again and there was no reason why, no reason at all, why she should be feeling this way.

Then she noticed that the prone form wasn’t moving at all, no gentle rise and fall of the chest with each breath, no noise, no movement and all signs indicating the opposite.

“Is he...is he...?” She couldn’t finish the question but she had the feeling he understood her anyway.

“That depends.” His voice was cold now, almost biting, as if he thought she knew the answer but wanted to ask regardless. “Do you want to die or not?”

A sudden chill went through her, and Ash gasped at his words. Eyes wide with disbelief, she stared at the man before her, wondering how he could have turned from the arrogant jerk to…to this ruthless man before her.

She dimly registered that he was speaking in that same tone, and although she heard the words, the meaning was lost on her. “…followed us…alive…call backup…”

He was talking about killing a human being, ending another person’s life! It was wrong, it was sickening to even contemplate murdering someone in cold-blood and yet, here he was, acting as if human life did not mean anything to him. This was not a life and death situation; they only needed to get away before the alarm was raised, for surely her absence was hard to miss and would be noticed sooner or later.

And he, he wasn’t even considering this option, wasn’t even interested in preserving another human life. Irrational thoughts bubbled into her mind and Ash unconsciously took a step back, all the while staring in horror at him.

“Your choice.”

But worse, he was leaving this decision to her. It would fall onto her and her only, if this man lived to see another day or ended his life right now—it was all in her hands.

Fear rose in her mind, sharp and overpowering, as his ominous warning broke through her scrambled thoughts.

There was no emotion, no regret in either his words or actions and now more than ever, Ash realised that he was not a knight in shining armor—he may just be the devil in disguise from who she needed saving against.

Swallowing, Ash forced herself to meet his eyes and though he was crouching, and she was standing, the height difference didn’t matter at all because she was still intimidated by him.
“He lives.” Slowly, he straightened up until the tables were turned and it was now Ash that had to look up at him, wondering if she had imagined her whispered words or if she had indeed spoken them.

He studied her for a minute longer and then surprisingly, it was he who looked away, who broke their mini-staring contest…and acquiesced.

“I apologise. Let’s go now.”

And was that a glimmer of respect—mixed with overwhelming relief?—in his eyes?

Numbly, Ash followed after him, not sure what to think. Was this actually a test, to see if she valued her own life more than that of a stranger’s? To see if she would save a stranger’s life?

For some inexplicable reason, Ash thought that this was only the beginning of it all, and that many more things were just waiting to happen, things that would easily overshadow this event. And the man beside her? She had just as a strong feeling that this man, always one step ahead—but two steps behind in manners—would be catalyst of it all.

Or was he apologising for something totally different?