Clueless Love

“Now tie her to the chair, and make sure it’s tight because if it’s not, you won’t like what I will do to you,” he tells Ismail. I sit on the chair Ismail sat on before as he uses the ropes to tie me up.

When he is tying Ismail up a plan pops to my head, but I will need Ismail’s help to make sure it goes well. A wonderful idea also comes to me that will work perfectly with my plan.

“Ismail ti fidi di me? (Ismail do you trust me?)” I ask in Italian praying I said the right words.

“Lo faccio, ma perché stai chiedendo e perché parli italiano? (I do, but why are you asking and why are you speaking Italian?)” Ismail replies in Italian. I am about to reply, but the thug responds instead.

“Vedo che voi due potete parlare la mia lingua (I see you two can speak my language)” the man interrupts. I can’t use Italian to say the things I want to say to Ismail. If I say it in a language he understands, our plan won’t work. That’s why I can’t tell him in English.

“Non riesco a spiegare perché in questo momento, ma per favore basta fare quello che dico (I can’t explain why right now, but please just do what I say)” I say in Spanish, praying our captor does not understand Spanish as well.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“? Por qué hablamos otro idioma? (Why are we speaking another language?)” Ismail asks back in Spanish.

“Porque, no quiero que escuche lo que voy a decirte (Because I don’t want him to hear what I am about to tell you)” I explain.

“Hey, what are the two of you saying to each other,” the man says, clearly angry he does not understand Spanish.

“Alhamdulillah (Alabado sea Allah) él no entiende el espa? ol. Ahora escúchame, lo voy a distraer, mientras tú quitas el arma de su espalda) (Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) he does not understand Spanish. Now listen to me, I am going to distract him, while you remove the gun from his back.)” I mantel Ismail, ignoring the man.

“Supongo que es muy arriesgado, pero de todos modos estoy contigo. Solo dime cuando debo, (Umit that is very risky, but I am with you. Just tell me when.)” Ismail says understanding it’s our only hope of getting out of here.

“Cuando digo Bismillah (en el nombre de Allah) lo haces. (When I say Bismillah (In the name of Allah) you do it.)”

“Muy bien, esperaré tu se? al. (Alright, I will wait for your signal.)”

“Do you know something funny? Someone in here is a big coward but thinks he is so big and strong,” I say getting the attention of the man.

“What are you talking about?” the man looks up and stops tying Ismail to the chair.

“I am talking about you. You are a coward.”

“What did you just call me?” he says already getting angry, not what I planned for, but it was expected.

“You heard me right. You are a coward.”

“You are a funny lady because I doubt you can do anything besides look pretty. But you sit there and call me a coward. If anyone should be called a coward, it should be you! Because I bet the only thing you know how to do is sit around and look pretty,” he rants getting into my face to say it.

“You should not have said that!” I say getting annoyed with his ranting.

“What are you going to do about it, Bitch?” he says very close to my face.

“Call me that word one more time, and I will show you what I can do.”

“Which word? BITCH,” he says with a nasty grin.

“You shouldn’t have,” I say. Without even thinking about the possibility I could get Ismail and myself killed, I let my anger control me and do what pops to my head.

I smile and use my forehead to hit his, very hard. I don’t wait for him to recover before I use my right leg to kick the side of his face. I use my left leg as soon as my right touches the ground. I hold the chair tight as I use both my legs to kick his stomach. He does not even have a chance to react because of how fast I attack him. For my last move, I use all the energy I have left in my body to lift the chair up that is tied to my body. I swing the chair on his body, breaking it into pieces on him.

“I wonder if I am still just a pretty face now,” I say standing over him, while he tries to process everything I did to him.

“Umit, what just happened?” Ismail asks sounding shocked to the core.

“There is no time to explain, let’s go before he recovers and beats me for the damage I have done to him,” I say pulling at Ismail’s hands without thinking, running out of the door.

While running down the stairs, I can hear the man already barking orders for them to follow us.

“I can’t believe that bitch broke my jaw, follow them!” I hear him shout.

“Come let’s hurry,” Ismail says as we take two steps at a time, but it’s not so easy for me because I’m still in my high heels. My heels are making it a bit hard for me to run fast. Ismail is a little ahead of me because of it. We reach outside faster than I would have thought possible, but I guess the adrenaline and only being on the fifth floor made us fast.

“Umit, we need to hurry. They are gaining on us,” Ismail yells, noticing I am a bit slower than him.

“I need to take off my shoes so that I can run faster,” I say attempting to take off my shoe on the run. But Ismail stops me by saving my life…

“Umit, watch out,” he yells bending me forward as a bullet barely misses my head.

“Subhan Allah (Glory be to Allah) that was close,” I say, putting my hand to my heart. I can bet anyone close to me can hear how loud and fast my heart is beating.

“Don’t shoot them, you fools! We need them alive,” the scary man says.

Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) they won’t shoot at us again.

“I see the car, hurry up Umit,” Ismail says, running towards where the car is parked.

“I see it too, open it,” I say, running towards the car.

We get to the car at the same time and get in, but the problem is I am sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Umit, what are you waiting for?” Ismail shouts sounding very anxious.

“The key, the key, the key, to start the car,” I shriek getting anxious too.

“It’s press to start, Umit, press to start. Let’s go I have pressed it,” Ismail says pressing the button while I quickly press the pedal and change the gear to reverse. I reverse at the highest speed I have ever reversed in my life. Ya, Allah please let us get out of here in one piece.

“Umit, you need to increase your speed and lose them. They are getting close,” Ismail says while I am race out of the building.

“I didn’t know they were following us!” I look at my side mirror and Ismail is right; they are gaining on me. I start overtaking cars.

“They are and let’s switch seats.”

“How are we going to do that, and hang on,” I say, taking a sharp turn. I drive into the turn with high speed praying dearly for our lives.

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Ismail asks sounding both impressed and scared for his life.

“My brothers. Are they still gaining on us?”

“No, they are not, but we still need to switch seats. You don’t know where we are going.”

“Oh, so how are we going to do that, and where are we going?” I respond clearly understanding that going back to either of our houses would be too risky.

“We need something to hold the pedal while we switch seats, and we are going somewhere safe.”

“Check the backseats for anything heavy. Like books or anything.”

“Alright, hang on,” Ismail says leaning over to the back seat to search for anything to hold the pedal down.

“Find anything?” I ask. How long can it take to see what is on the backseat?

“No, nothing here that can help,” Ismail says turning back in his seat.

“You can give me the directions to this place since we can’t switch seats.”

“That would slow us down, and we need to lose them as fast as possible.”

“Hmmm… do you know what we are going to do? You are going to cross over one of your legs to hold the pedal down and use your hand to hold the steering wheel. I will crawl into the back seat while you take over the driver’s seat.”

“That would work. Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

“I don’t know, maybe the pressure is not allowing us to think straight.”

“I guess so,” Ismail says as he crosses his leg over. I feel his leg touch mine as I remove my foot from the pedal to allow his on it.

“Now grab the steering wheel,” I say removing my hands, but not before he puts his on.

Once his leg, and hands are in position, I climb over the seat and into the back. I wait for him to cross his whole body over, before scrambling over to the passenger’s seat.

“Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) that went well, but I have bad news. While we were changing seats, they were able to gain on us. They are right beside us,” I point to Ismail’s window. He rolls his window down, and a gun is pointed at us.

“Stop the car, if you don’t want to die,” one of the men shouts, pointing a gun at us.

Ismail does not say anything but slams the car into reverse and turns the car around, going the other way. He drives so fast; I am holding my breath while praying. He speeds into an eatery carpark and parks the car next to a large SUV. I am about to ask why we are here, but when I see Mr. Alberto’s men speeding past the wrong way, I understand what Ismail is trying to do. Parking the car here is the best way to get them off our tail. He waits a few long minutes before starting the car again to make sure they haven’t back tracked and caught us hiding.

“Ismail where are we going?” I ask after we have been driving for a while.

“Just wait and see. We are almost there.”

“Alright,” I say relaxing a little now that Mr. Alberto’s people are not hot on our tail anymore.