Enemy Beloved

20 | kneel

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V A U G H N

Muggers. Damn it!

"Oh my God! Vaughn, go and see what's wrong with him." Claire directs me, making me look at her in disbelief.

"Are you crazy?" I grip the steering wheel tighter to stop myself from shouting. "He's a mugger. You get out of the car and he will rob you."

She widens her eyes like I have spoken something unholy.

"How can you be so cruel, Jackson?" She points towards the body on the road. "That person could be injured and in need of our help. Where's all your 'charity' now?"

I squeeze my eyes shut. "He's not injured, Claire. That's just a trick."

"You're unbelievable, Jackson!" she grunts. "I was about to die yesterday. That body could have been me. That man must be in need of us."

"Yes, he needs us to rob for sure," I grumble, the center of my forehead ticking in pain. I hear the sound of the car door opening and turn to find her getting out of the car.

Bloody Hell!

"Claire..." I stretch a hand to grab her wrist to pull her back but she is already out and slams the door shut. "Blondie! Get back here."

She ignores me as she walks to the person lying on the road. I hold my head between my hands, clutching my hair in frustration.

Claire Hill, known her entire life for being the mean girl — killed by an untimely change of heart.

I grab the steering wheel as I watch her and just as I predicted, the person moves just as Claire is about to touch him. I notice her gasping as she takes a step back while the stranger, dressed in baggy jeans and a brown jacket, gets up from the road to block her way. He is wearing a black mask to cover his face and only his eyes can be seen from the two holes poked on it.

"And people say marriage is fun," I mutter under my breath as Claire starts to run back towards the car like a lost puppy.

I was right. She has no idea how real life works.

I am about to hit the engine when more masked goons spring out from the woods surrounding the road. Claire stops in her tracks two feet short of the car, looking at me and I follow her gaze to find a tall, burly man pointing a gun towards me through the window to my side.

My lovely wife shrieks, covering her mouth with her palms while I am completely frozen with the question of how to proceed next. The man with the gun knocks at the window of the car, signaling me to roll it down.

I quietly do as asked, mentally scolding myself for not bringing my licensed pistol with me today. I have never needed it. But clearly, I underestimated Claire.

The man slips his other hand in, unlocking the car and opening the door.

"Get out," he orders in a rough voice and I climb down with my hands raised above my head.

"What a day, man!" the other guy, who was lying on the road before, tells his companion, and they laugh with him.

I feel the barrel of the gun on my spine as the man pushes me at Claire. I look at her with a clenched jaw while she observes the road distractedly, probably sorry for not paying heed to my warning. I am pushed towards her and collide with her body, my hands instantly reaching to her waist, holding her close for me. She holds me too as she looks at the goons.

"What do you want?" I ask the men and they look at each other before bursting into laughter again.

"Money, dude," one of them replies. "Raise your hands above your head."