Wedded To Revenge

The heavy December wind struck the earth's surface, causing debris to land in different areas of New York City.

Lena had gone to get a few drugs for her dad's treatment. Now she was stuck in the pharmacy store; she sighed wearily and wished the wind would stop blowing heavily.

She needed to get home to her father as soon as possible.

"Ena," Pat, the pharmacy technician, called.

"Oh, I've told you several times that my name is Lena and not Ena." She didn't sound pleasant. She glared at Pat, almost letting out a long hiss. 

"Hmm, you seem mad at me. Have I done something wrong?" He asked her.

"It's so tiring that I get to correct you every time. My name is Lena, not Enaaaa." She emphasized.

"Noted, Lena." He smiled at her, but she didn't acknowledge that.

She had moved out to check the weather outside. It was still a bit dark, she stretched her hand to feel the impact of the raindrops on her skin, and it was manageable.

She did a mental calculation of the pharmacy to her house and realized she would only get drenched a little bit if the intensity of the rain didn't increase.

 She shoved the small polythene that contained the drugs in her purse and dared to enter the rain.

"Hey Ena, Lena, hey, wait for the…" Pat ran out of the store, but all attempts to stop her were futile. He shrugged his shoulders, returning to crouch down on the stool.

The rain increased, and Lena muttered cuss words as she walked in the wrenching rain, she was now cold, and her feet were barely moving.

Through gritted teeth and cold shivers, she checked around, but there was no shade to hide for safety. She walked on, hoping a miracle would happen to her. She wasn't looking well, it was getting dark, and the street lights were not on, probably due to the heavy rain. She heard the honking sound of a car and turned away before it hit her.

She halted at a standstill staring at her wet clothes and drugs; her father would scold her for not waiting for the rain to stop before returning home.

The already wet drugs were not the problem; she could get new ones with the money she'd saved over the months, but her card wasn't with her, and she would need it if she wanted to buy new drugs.

She rubbed her temples in worry. Biting her lips regretfully, she wished she had a car. She strolled on and noticed the car that passed her earlier hadn't made a move past the place the driver halted.

She walked past the vehicle but was stopped when the driver wound down the window. He smiled at her and asked if she wanted a ride.  Lena shook her head and walked swiftly, she didn't trust the men around, and there had been cases of missing bodies lately.

The car trailed behind her, causing trepidation to creep into her mind. Can the day get any worse?

Firstly, she was drenched in the rain, and now a black tinted windows range rover sport was following her. Was the driver trying to kidnap her?

She didn't understand why he was following her, but she made sure not to wait. She walked as fast as her legs could, but unfortunately, the car caught up.

The driver wound down and stopped again. "What the hell do you want from me!" She yelled at him.

"Chill, my boss wants to have a word with you." He smiled at her, revealing a perfect set of white teeth, "Would you wait now?" 

“I don't give a fuck who you and your lame boss are. I'm drenched and need to get home!" She yelled again and walked away from the car.

"Sir, she just left. Do you want me to pursue her?" The chauffeur bowed his head slowly and looked back to ask his boss what to do.

"No, leave her be. She seemed rude and not even one of the types I want." A deep voice responded to him. He nodded his head and continued to drive slowly.

They drove past Lena, and she muttered cuss words at them. She hissed and continued walking.

The raindrop was less now; she hurried before it would start again. She regretted not coming out with some cash and her card; she got home in a few seconds.

As she approached her house, something caught her attention —the car that stopped her earlier, or was it something that looked like it? Of course, a car wasn't made for one person.

Even though it wasn't for the man who stopped her earlier, who could be the owner? She lived alone with her father in that house, and he hardly came home with friends.

 Different thoughts ran through her mind as she walked closer to the doorstep, she flung the door open, and to her chagrin, the driver who stopped her earlier was right there standing close to a man she was yet to see his face.

“You again?" She pointed an accusing finger at the skinny man with dirty blonde hair. He smiled at her—surprised to see her as well.