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We had no choice but to trust Alex and his knowledge of human nature. Let’s hope we didn’t make a mistake.
CHAPTER 19
Jack turned out to be a real asset to the team. His excellent Aikido and archery skills were beneficial, and his whole being positively complemented our group. He was patient, warm, and had an amazing sense of humor. It had been a long time since I had laughed so much.
The blond law student was wholly absorbed in his role as a teacher. After introducing me to the theory of Aikido and the philosophy of martial arts, he showed me various step sequences. The movements with the arms would later be expanded to include a sword.
My good balance and the corresponding body awareness, which I had to thank my ballet classes for, allowed me to quickly learn the fluid flow of steps, positions, and punches. It did my ambition good that Jack patted me appreciatively on the shoulder at the end of the training, as he usually would only with his buddies. Even if I was a little disappointed not to be able to start directly with the different weapons.
In the meantime, Alex trained with Edward, who showed him the basics of fencing. Since the two newcomers could not be present at every meeting, we had decided that Alex should also learn how to use weapons to continue practicing with me.
I wasn't comfortable with Edward, although I was relieved to see he had taken care of my fiancé. I often felt his suspicious gaze resting on me, making me nervous.
But despite the distraction of joking with Jack, my mind kept wandering back to the young woman who had been taken away in Harlem. She had tried to fight back. Had kicked, screamed, and wriggled. But no matter how much resistance she had put up, she had been helpless against the two guys. She was beaten up, without mercy, without a shred of hope of being rescued.
How could I believe that a different fate would await me in the event of such an attack just because I had learned a little self-defense? I was not allowed to acquire such arrogance at all. That would be my downfall. Because those two guys there in Harlem, just like the ones from the museum, were giants of men, apparently well versed in various martial arts and certainly trained to kill.
Of course, the training increased my minimal chance a little bit, and for that reason alone, I would stick to it. But it could not ensure my escape.
After washing myself at the sink with the cold water, I changed back into my confessional robe. Alex kissed me gently. He would not be joining me tonight. He and his friends planned to use the next few hours for an intense workout. I had to be patient until next weekend, which stung. Still, I accepted it without a word and even said goodbye to Edward.
Chris then took me to Stephan, who was waiting in the car by the road, just like last time. Sighing, I slid into the back seat, and my brother slammed the car door. The butler drove off directly.
"Stephan, is the road still closed?" I asked the man at the steering wheel, hoping that it was. I just felt the urge to see if I could spot the children. I wondered how they had fared since their mother's abduction.
“No,” Stephan answered curtly, but his gaze studied me over the rearview mirror. Although I didn’t look up, I could feel his cold eyes, which sent a shiver down my spine.
"If you wish, I can still drive the route via Harlem," he offered emotionlessly. With a jerk, I raised my head and looked at him suspiciously. But his expression was utterly indifferent, his gaze directed forward to the road.
Could I dare to ask him to take the detour? Would I get myself into trouble?
My urge and concern for the children were so great that I decided to take the risk.
"Yes, please. Thank you," I replied politely, avoiding his gaze and staring aimlessly out the window. It wasn't long before we had turned onto West 125thStreet. Tonight, the streets were deserted. Stephan drove leisurely, and when we came to the traffic light where we had stood the day before yesterday, watching the young woman being dragged out of the house, he stopped suddenly. Murmuring, he began to look in the glove compartment for something. I took advantage of his distraction and looked up at the window where I had seen the children. Crying, screaming.
All the windows in the whole block were empty and dark. Ghostly black. Nowhere was there a light to indicate that people lived here. Nothing.
The entire block resembled a ghost town. Or a grave.
"There it is," I heard Stephan say and saw him pop a mint into his mouth. The light jumped to green, and he steered the car down East 125th Street, heading straight home.
What had happened to the inhabitants of this part of Harlem? Where were they?
In front of our house, Stephan let me out. Aza already greeted me at the front door.
"Good evening, Miss. How are you?" she asked, and her smile was genuine.
"Tired, Aza. I'm exhausted," I answered, briefly squeezing her hand as I passed as a sign that I appreciated her inquiry. "Do you have news from my father?"
The young woman shook her head dejectedly. The question was redundant. There were hardly any possibilities left for long-distance communication.
“Aza, I’m going to bed right now,” I informed her, already heading for the stairs. But Aza held me back by the arm.
“Miss, you only had one apple for dinner tonight. You really should eat something before you go to bed,” she urged me, trying to push me toward the dining room.
“No, Aza, I’m not hungry,” I protested. But to no avail. Although she was so delicately built, she had unexpected strength and managed to pull me through the door into the other room.
The table was already set, and my stomach immediately rumbled at the sight of the food.Such a traitor!I scolded inwardly but could not deny that I felt hungry.
