Page 12 of Daring

The man emits a muffled groan, followed by what seems like a complaint. Slowly turning, he faces them, revealing his mouth covered with tape.

"We need to remove it," Abigail asserts.

"Do you want us to touch him?" Gretel, wide-eyed, asks.

"I can't think of any other way," Abigail responds sarcastically.

Gradually, the man regains clarity. In the dimly lit area, his features remain elusive. The gagged man starts to groan louder, struggling to free himself. Both women watch, frozen; there's something unsettling about him, an instinctual warning of danger, particularly sensed by Abigail.

"Carol, grab your phone and shine the flashlight," Abigail instructs Gretel, who looks puzzled until realizing Abigail deliberately used a different name.

"On it," Gretel says, rushing to her seat, retrieving her phone, and returning with the flashlight ablaze.

She focuses on the man, who blinks several times, trying to adjust to the blinding light. Both women observe, and if he gave them an uneasy feeling before, now they are certain they shouldn't release him. The man appears young, just over thirty, with black hair mirroring the darkness in his emotionless, angry gaze. Gretel senses the presence of a psychopath, reminiscent of the descriptions in the true crime podcasts she often listens to, sending a shiver down her spine.

Except for a head wound, likely inflicted by the men at the bar, now dried and crusted with blood, he seems to harbor nothing but unbridled fury.

"If you stay still, I'll remove the tape," Abigail proposes, growing increasingly nervous.

"Maybe we should call the police," Gretel insists at her side.

Hearing that word, the man emits hysterical sounds muffled under the tape. It's the first time he looks at them with pleading eyes and suddenly becomes still, in a clear state of submission. Abigail examines the way he's tied; there seems to be little danger of him breaking free. His hands are bound behind his back, with a rope connecting the binding to his tightly tied feet.

She leans over him as a couple of cars pass by without stopping. Times have changed; now, no one in their right mind halts to help a stranded vehicle, the risk of falling into a trap and getting beaten or robbed is too high.

Abigail grabs the duct tape on his mouth and gives it a forceful yank before stepping back as if afraid he might bite her.

"No police," the man declares with absolute coldness.

Both women stand frozen. They expected pleas and cries from someone in their predicament. It's logical to seek help, but the man doesn't, and his situation doesn't seem to bother him much.

"I'll pay you; I have a lot of money. Just give me an address, and tomorrow you'll have enough money to fix your lives," he assures with an icy tone.

"Don't you want to report those who did this to you?" Gretel asks, her brain struggling to process what she's hearing.

The man crafts the most macabre half-smile they've ever seen, sending shivers down their spines. Their sense of danger intensifies rapidly, and Abigail thinks perhaps the smartest move is to leave him there and run. However, suddenly, a disconcerting sense of responsibility grips her – the same responsibility that drives her to work tirelessly, single-handedly sustaining a business employing over four hundred workers who would be left jobless if she were to abandon it like her brothers did.

"Who are you?" Abigail asks.

"Who am I?"

The man releases a histrionic laugh that freezes their blood in their veins.

"I am the man who will butcher you and your entire family if you don't release me right now," he shouts.

Both women jump in fright, moving away from the trunk.

"Come on, don't be stupid and accept what I'm offering. I have no idea where the hell you came from or what you're doing in this, but I don't think you're with them. You don't fit the profile, damn it," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you look like two scared little lambs. This is the last time I say it, let me go, let me take the car, and tomorrow you'll be disgustingly rich."

"I don't think so," Abigail decides, who, since removing the tape from his mouth, can't shake the feeling that his face is familiar, but she can't place him.

"You filthy, disgusting bitch!" he roars with anger, writhing like a snake, "If you hand me over, I'll say you kidnapped me, damn whores, and I assure you witnesses will appear out of nowhere. I'll rot in jail, but not alone," he threatens furiously.

"I think we should do what he says," Gretel says, pretending to be even more frightened.

The man stops again, giving his full attention to her, and Abigail nods.

"You're right, I already have enough problems to worry about another that doesn't concern me," Abigail plays along.

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