I'll Take You Away From Him

Chapter 9

A few minutes after a gentle, the sweetest kiss, we are already sitting in his car.

Unfortunately, I can't forget what happened not so long ago. I'm afraid that my mom will make a scene after my escape. I have no doubt that a quarrel awaits me.

But besides that… Will she really sell the bike? But she also said she would block my card at the first point. But it's unlikely that will be the end of it.

Will she forbid me from going out anywhere at all? I still have to go to university, and after classes—she won't be catching me on the streets, will she?

Though I'm not going to follow her orders unconditionally anyway. I have a right to live my own life all as I want to.

At some point, breaking free from my thoughts, I noticed that we were turning off the main road and heading towards a wooded area.

I've never been there and I don't know what's in that part of the city. But at this point, I absolutely don't care where Will is taking me.

As wild as it sounds even in my thoughts, I trust him more than my own mother. He has no reason to do anything bad to me. And if he wants to take me somewhere and… I feel so bitter and bad that I won't even resist.

Let him do what he wants. Already feeling like I’m dead inside.

When the car stops, I try to see where we are in the dark. Not out of fear, but simply out of curiosity about where and why Will brought me.

And I see nothing around except trees and bushes.

Will gets out of the car, opens the trunk, pulls something out, then opens the door on my side and extends his hand. Without hesitation, I take it and climb out, catching a glimpse that he has some large cloth or something in his hands.

Holding my hand, he continues into the thicket, and I follow like a docile calf. A few hundred minutes later, I see a small piece of water on the horizon.

He brought me to the lake?

While I stare at the sill surface of the water in shock, finally realizing that if this man were some kind of maniac, he would definitely not have brought me to such a beautiful place, Will drapes a blanket over my shoulders, sits down on what seems to be a deliberately left log, and pulls me onto his lap.

I lower myself—and find myself, along with the carefully draped blanket, in the cocoon of his arms.

“I didn’t plan to bring you here,” he breaks the silence with a quiet voice, “but I thought you probably wouldn't want to go to a restaurant or some crowded place right now.”

“Yeah,” I nod, frozen, and wrap my arms around his neck.

Pressing my cheek against his prickly face, I breathe him deeply. I feel how at the same time his breathing grows deeper, heavier, and how his chest rises high.

I hope it’s not because I'm allowing myself too much or that he dislikes something. It just feels so good to be with him. And I wish someone would understand, sympathize, and support me. It doesn't have to be in words, just with these tight embraces.

I really wish my feelings about Will would not turn out deceptive. He is so… such a man to which I would give all of myself now for this manifestation of understanding and support.

And with each passing minute, this feeling of boundless gratitude only grows stronger, pushing away unpleasant emotions and replacing them with the desire to do something so he understands how good I feel with him and how much I appreciate his simple yet very important gesture for me.

He didn’t take me somewhere I would feel uncomfortable, didn’t start to flirt, as guys typically do on a dates right away they had started, testing how agreeable I am.

He is serious, thoughtful, and I am once again convinced that there is a reason I like older men. And at this specific moment—I like Will.

We sit like this, embraced and cuddled, what felt like an eternity, before Will is the first to break this idyll. Leaning back, he looks into my face, although, of course, he can hardly see anything.

I guess he has already sat long enough on the hard log, and I’m adding weight on top of that.

“Want me to take you home? It’s almost midnight,” he says, glancing at his phone.

I hesitate with my answer because I don't want to go home.

Moreover, according to my story, I'm at a party for the whole weekend, so I can return only on Monday after classes. But how reasonable is that, and what will he think of me if I start to impose myself? Definitely nothing good. Probably…

“Well, I'm not in a hurry,” I replied uncertainly. And immediately add just in case, “But if you need to…”

“I’m not in a hurry either,” he interrupts, relieving me of the need to choose my words carefully. “But I'm tired of feeding the mosquitoes,” he laughs hoarsely. “If you want, we can go to my place.”

And that's it. He adds nothing more, leaving me to contemplate on my own whether to just go to his place or to go and…?

Leaving the decision up to me, whether I agree to this or not?

“Let’s go,” I exhale with difficulty, terribly worried that I might ruin everything with this decision. “It's just that I had a quarrel with my mom and that's why I don't want to go home,” I add for no reason. “Well, I was planning to spend this weekend away from home, with friends, but…” I fall silent, as I don’t even understand why I’m saying this.

But it’s too late; there’s no taking the words back.

Will releases me, but first, I feel a light touch of his lips on the tip of my nose. I don’t know how to take this.

It seems nothing special, yet embarrassment still arises. And it grows even more as we approach his car, and then drive off. Again in an unknown direction for me.

Whatever happens next, I've made this decision myself. So I’m not going to regret anything. I really fell for Will, like for no one else ever before.

And it’s better to spend this time with him, since that’s how it turned out, before I return to the harsh reality.