Ashley

What the hell am I doing? Why am I trying to change his perspective? It shouldn't matter to me that for whatever reason he may hate women. There are seven billion people and I am not certainly a wonder woman who'd twirl her magic wand and everyone will start respecting women. 

But, wasn't that my dream?

Yes, a dream when you had a free life when you were not forced to live with strangers and work in some illegal organization. You are not an ideal person to preach feminism anymore.

My subconsciousness snapped at me. 

I need to know him so I would know the location of the file which holds my freedom. I need to steal for its the key through which I can reach out to my mother again. I don't know how she is but I hope she is healthy and safe. I need to get hold of that file even if it means breaking his growing trust. 

I am not supposed to bond with these men, I am here for a purpose, I will have to leave them after I twist a knife into their hearts. I cannot let them know anything or else I will lose my only chance at freedom.

There is something about his hooded eyes, a brighter shade of green with flecks of gold making them more exquisite.

His orbs always seem on a quest for a ray of hope when they look into mine as if they want to believe but something is holding them back.

But, how can I help him regain his faith when I've lost mine long ago?

The second day of our little trip, our destination being Adelaide because I wanted to shop.

But, here we were, in the middle of nowhere waiting for a lift because of his stupid car engine thought of taking a break along with us.

"Your car is a piece of crap," I said while crossing my arms against my chest.

He was leaning against the car tapping on his phone. 

"Says the one who once burnt my bloody car down without any reason," he seethed.

"Whatever. Now, find a mode of transportation or a kangaroo, you brute," I said, fanning myself with the hem of my blouse.

"If you don't shut up, I swear I will make you sit on a platypus and ride it till Adelaide," he roared, glaring at me.

"How cruel," I pouted, my eyes searching for a vehicle in the desert area we were stuck in.

That's when I saw a car coming toward us.

I pulled my bra down a little accentuating my cleavage and fixed my hair to grab the driver's attention because we had been denied by two cars already. 

I jumped in and gestured for a lift and the vehicle pulled in front of me. 

I smiled flirtatiously and the windows rolled down revealing a raven-haired man probably in his mid-twenties. 

He flashed me a toothy grin, gestured me to get in but his face colored green when he saw the broody blond behind me.

There was a raven-haired girl too, maybe his sister. She giggled and checked out Nathaniel totally.

Time to roll my eyes.

"You may sit at the back while the spunky lady can accompany me here," that raven-haired man directed at him.

I chuckled and wiggled my way into the passenger seat. With a huff, he got into the car. 

Nathaniel was glaring at me continuously, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Our gaze locked through the prismatic rearview mirror.

My eyes zeroed on the little space that was slowly reducing between that girl and him. That girl slowly tapped her fingers over his lap and batted her eyelids at him provocatively. 

I narrowed my eyes and focused my spy eyes on her. He was so clueless about it like hell, was he enjoying it? Of course, he was. 

She opened her stilettos and traced his skin underneath his pant. 

His jaw ticked and he turned stiff. I don't know why he wasn't reacting. He was just sitting there like a statue. 

Considering his silence as encouragement, she scooted closer to him and wrapped her hand around his arm. 

That was it. I saw the vein on his forehead popping and he caught her wrist just in time.

"You got to be kidding me," he hissed, twisting her wrist a bit too harshly.

"Caleb," she screamed like an infant. I swear the sound left me deaf for a while.

Caleb, the raven-haired boy braked the car and turned around to see her sister teary-eyed.

"What happened?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"He tried to touch me inappropriately and also hurt my wrist," she slurred, a flood of tears smearing her makeup.

What an actress! I was amazed by her skills. She had that doe eyes which can lie more efficiently than Shakira's hips.

"Get off my car, you pervert," Caleb growled.

"I did not do such a thing. Your sister is lying on your face," Nathaniel, said, his tone flat.

And, she started crying more like screaming. Her face turned tomato, as she sniffled.

With that, the raven-boy unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the back door, and pulled Nathaniel out by his tee.

Caleb threw a punch at his face. Blood oozed out of his nose, he clenched his fists and knocked Caleb on the ground.
Holding Caleb by his neck, he landed a few fists on his guts.

Nathaniel wiped the blood off his nose and was about to stand when Caleb kicked his knee catching him off guard.
He landed on the ground and soon, they were throwing massive punches on one another.

Everything happened so fast, I was still in shock. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and ran toward them.

"Knock it off," I screamed but they didn't listen.

I picked up two medium-sized stones from the ground and threw at them. They broke apart and glared at me.

I turned toward Caleb guy first.

"Dude, I saw how your baby sis slipped her hand on his thigh. She is lying you faggot. I saw it all from the mirror. And for causing such trouble she deserves.."

I opened the car door, dragged her out of the car by her wrist and slapped her right across her face. Her eyes widened and she wept again.

"This," I said.

Grabbing Nathaniel's wrist, I dragged him out of the mess.

We were almost near Adelaide Central Market, we walked a bit and then, booked a cab to the nearest hotel.

My hands still felt itchy as I remembered that lassie and her dumb brother. 

Reaching the hotel room, I kicked the door open and closed it behind us.

He strolled further into the room and settled on the bed.

Time to start.

I walked up to him and stopped right in front of him.

"You mister, you can prove your point without turning into a hulk," I hissed, examining his bloodied face.

His nose seemed pretty bruised, his lower lip split open, a purple bruise was decorating his right cheek and his eyes were bloodshot red. He totally looked like a distorted Adonis.

His white tee now had red patches on them. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were as dirty as a public toilet.

He just shrugged. That bastard.

"Remove your tee," I ordered, eliciting a raised eyebrow from him.

Ignoring him, I went through the drawers and took out a small first aid box. Time to return favors.

I sat beside him, opened the box and took out the essentials.

I raised my hand to wash his cuts with the antiseptic but he caught my wrist before it managed to touch his skin.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you think you're doing?" He said, bitterness lingering in his rough voice. Trying to scare me off.

"It won't hurt your pride to accept some assistance," I replied, my lips pressed into a thin line.

"I, unlike you, can take care of myself," he spoke, rather hissed.

I didn't argue any further rather handed him the cotton ball and watched him clean himself. There was a full-length mirror on the other side of the closet.

I watched his face through the mirror. His eyes were a bit less crimson now, his lips were dry as he wetted them twice, his knuckles were slit too.

After he was done cleaning himself, I passed him a shirt from his duffle bag. Our trip was over, I knew.

But, what I couldn't get over was the look of surprise on his face when I took his side.

He was right then why wouldn't I?
He reacted as if it was his first; someone taking his side.

A couple of moments later, buttoning his navy blue shirt, he turned around to face me.

"It's all your fault," he said, dismissively. His unwavering gaze hard on me, accusing me.

So much for a thank you. Wow.

"How so?" I chided, crossing my arms against my chest.

"If you'd not blackmailed me into this trip, nothing would have happened." He stated, his back straightened as he reached for the plastic jug kept on the bedside table and pouring the water directly into his mouth.

Arrogant. Ungrateful. No manners. He's totally marriage material, isn't he?

As he kept the jug aside, I walked closer to him and stretching my arm forward, I pinched his distorted nose hard.

He winched. You deserve it.

"You're an ungrateful piece of wreck," I seethed and scurried out of the room.