I've lost count of how many hours we've been on the road, but Paul's presence seemed to have lightened the mood for everyone. The weather was warm, the opposite of the previous night. An upbeat Florence and the Machine song played on the radio. Heitor and Marina sang along in unison in the back seat while Paul drove.
The wind tousled my hair, and I felt full of hope. The closer we got to Pierre, the closer we'd be to Cassie.
"Is everything okay?" Paul asked, gently taking my hand.
I shook my head and looked at him.
"I'm just anxious to see what will happen."
His hand continued to stroke mine, calming me even more. I was feeling increasingly close to Paul, and that was frightening. Especially because he would be leaving in the end.
"Hey, look." Marina pointed to a lake on the right side of the road. Paul cheered out the window. We parked the car on the curb and got out. I took off the blouse and shorts I was wearing and jumped into the lake, followed by Mari and Heitor.
The water was extremely cold, and I wasn't sure if it was suitable for swimming, but we didn't care. I hugged Mari while hopping around in the water, and she tried to lift me up; we both sank in the attempt. We resurfaced laughing. My teeth started to chatter from the cold water, and I hugged her again.
"Thank you for coming with me," I said, squeezing her tighter.
"I would never leave you alone," she replied.
"I love you, Marina."
"I love you, Elizabeth," she shouted.
"I love you," I shouted into the void.
"I love you," she shouted back into nothingness.
We started laughing alone. That moment seemed to have lifted a huge weight off my heart. I felt renewed and eager to resolve this situation soon. No matter what happened, I had my friends.
We spent a good part of the afternoon racing in the water and playing "chicken fight." The weather started to worsen, and it became a bit harder to stay in the icy water. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Heitor helped Marina float, and I smiled. I wasn't sure if it would be a good idea for Marina to get involved with him, but I had no doubt that Heitor was completely in love with Marina.
The rain began to fall, and we ran back to the car laughing. We grabbed towels from one of the bags and dried off. Paul drove to a place with cover so we could change out of our wet clothes.
"I think we should set up the tent around here until the rain passes," Mari suggested. "The road will be dangerous."
"I agree," Paul said.
"I don't think we can make a fire here, so we'll have to cuddle up," Heitor said, reaching out to hug Mari.
She slapped his hand away, refusing the hug, and we all laughed.
"I'll get something for us to eat," Mari said, stepping away.
The boys set up the tents, and I tried to be useful by helping, but I felt like I was more of a hindrance than a help, so I went to assist Mari with the food.
"We're almost there now," she commented, watching the boys.
"Yeah. Finally," I breathed deeply, feeling like I would miss this.
"We should plan a trip sometime."
"Of course, if we don't die before then," I joked.
"I don't think I want to go back home," Marina admitted. She smiled, but she looked sad.
I nudged her shoulder gently.
"Come on. I'm missing my bed," I tried to lighten the mood. But the truth was, I didn't know if I would be able to enter my apartment again. And all the decisions I had to make for my future... I definitely didn't want to go home now either.
"I don't want to marry Deivid. I've been getting signs for a long time. But I can't ignore them anymore."
I remembered the mark Deivid left on Marina, and my heart warmed with her confession.
"Yes! My God, yes! Deivid definitely isn't the one," I said, feeling like a ton had been lifted off my conscience. I couldn't stand seeing Marina suffer because of Deivid and not being able to say anything. It always turned into an endless argument whenever I brought it up, and once we didn't talk for a month.
"I see how Heitor treats me, and you know... that's the right way. But I feel guilty. In a way, it's like I'm cheating on Deivid." Her voice faltered a bit, and I hugged her.
"When we get home, you'll be able to sort this out. Don't feel bad."
"I'm afraid of his reaction." Instinctively, Marina rubbed her wrist.
I held onto her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
"Nothing will happen to you, I'll be there. This needs to end."
Marina started to cry, and I hugged her again. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I felt like the worst friend in the world for letting this situation with Deivid drag on for so long. It's very difficult to get someone out of a situation like that when the person doesn't see how much it hurts them.
But as Paul said, we were still very young, we still had a lot to live, and Marina would have many other loves in the future.
"I'll take this water jug over there," she said, wiping her eyes. "I think we're drinking too little water."
I observed Marina walking away. She was so beautiful, intelligent, and sweet. It was hard to believe anyone could harm her.
"Just in case you're wondering, yes, this is a gun," a voice spoke behind me, pressing something against my waist. "And if you scream or try to escape, I'll be happy to use it."
I closed my eyes, unable to believe that Guimarães had followed me here. I recognized his voice and by the smell of his perfume, which was becoming familiar to me.
"Seriously? No jokes?" Guimarães mocked, guiding me in the opposite direction of my friends.
I followed without opening my mouth; I had never had a gun pointed at me before. I wasn't sure what to feel at that moment. Was I scared? I couldn't be sure. The funny side of my brain had definitely shut down, no doubt.
Guimarães handcuffed my hands behind my back and pushed me into the passenger seat. Then he went around and got in the driver's seat. I looked back and couldn't see my friends anymore. Hatred started to rise in my chest and turned into tears. I turned to the window to deny him the satisfaction. We were so close, so near. Now Guimarães was taking the way back, leaving me farther away.
Fortunately, I remembered my cell phone was on my waist; it was my only chance to communicate. I silently prayed it was on silent because if it rang, Guimarães would notice. This spark of hope made the tears disappear, and I turned to him, ready to try to convince him to let me go.
"The trip is too long, I can't go handcuffed," I tried. Guimarães kept looking at the road. "It's serious, it's hurting me."
"I can't do anything, Prado. You should have thought about that before breaking the law."
"Please."
He looked into my eyes as if trying to read me.
"Do you think I'll fall for that? How many times have you run away?"
"I'm in a moving car, you don't think I'll jump out, do you?"
He looked ahead, ignoring me again.
The rain was getting worse, and desperation was growing inside me. As time passed, the silence was killing my hopes.
"Guimarães," I whimpered with tears in my eyes. "It's hurting a lot."
I hadn't noticed until then, but being handcuffed for so long was really hurting me, and that made my crying worse.
Guimarães averted his gaze from mine and remained silent. My arm hurt more and more, and I started to cry for real. He seemed to avoid looking at me. A few seconds later, he abruptly stopped the car and sighed as if annoyed with his decision.
"If you try anything, any tricks, Prado..." He grabbed the key and unlocked the handcuffs.
My hands fell free and sore. I made a sound of pain and wanted to punch that bastard. But I knew it wasn't the time to do anything. My only chance would be to wait to use the cellphone.
Guimarães started driving again, and I couldn't even look at his face; I was so angry.
"Happy?" He asked, provoking me.
"With all due respect, Guimarães. Go fuck yourself," I spat his name like a curse.
He laughed.
We continued the journey in silence. My head started to ache, and I felt my body getting heavier. I needed to make a stop to use the cellphone.
"I need to pee," I broke the silence. Guimarães looked at me from the corner of his eye and didn't respond. "Seriously!"
His hand reached the back seat, while the other remained firm on the steering wheel. Then he handed me a bucket.
"What? You're not suggesting...?" I looked horrified at the bucket.
"It's this or nothing."
The way he talked to me without looking at me irritated me more and more. I threw the bucket back onto the back seat.
"Nothing, then!"
Guimarães shrugged.
As if God had heard my prayers, the car's windshield stopped working. The rain completely blurred the way.
"Great!" He hit the wheel angrily. I tried not to show any reaction, but internally, I smiled. He drove to a safe place and stopped the car.
"Can I pee now?"
The piercing look he gave me made me lose the joking tone.
"Come on, there's an inn here." His voice was cold, and I couldn't even argue. "Don't try anything, Prado. I'm tired of your games."
"Okay." I agreed as I got out of the car.
He got out of the car and stood in front of me, cupping my face in his hands and staring at me seriously.
"If you run away again, the next time I find you, I'll kill you."
I remembered his hands on my neck that night. I swallowed hard at the threat and for a minute forgot how to walk. Guimarães pushed me along the path, holding my arm firmly. He was much taller than me, and it was as if I had understood the real gravity of the situation just now.
We entered an old and dusty inn. At the reception, he spoke some things in French with the attendant and showed his badge. She gave him a key, and he handed her the money.
We entered the room, which seemed to have been decorated in the 60s and appeared to have been cleaned for the last time in the 50s.
"Great, just one bed." I mocked.
He locked the door and put the key in his pocket. He threw some pillows on the floor and covered them with a sheet, then put a blanket on top.
"I'm too much of a gentleman to sleep with a lady." He pointed to the makeshift bed on the floor as if he were presenting me with a 5-star hotel bed.
"Are you kidding me?" I looked at him incredulously. My body was already aching from being handcuffed, and he would still make me sleep on the floor?
"Sorry, I don't sleep with women I'm not interested in. You're cute, but not my type." He took off his shirt and lay on the bed, covering himself with the thick blankets. He seemed so comfortable.
"Asshole." I cursed and headed for the bathroom.
I locked the door and grabbed my cellphone. I called Marina. It rang until it dropped. It was late; they were probably asleep.
"Marina, I'm with Guimarães. Keep going to Pierre's house; he's taking me back to Brazil."
The message was sent, and then my cellphone rang.
"Elizabeth?" It was Heitor.
"Heitor. My God."
"Are you okay?" His voice was distorted.
"I am, I'm in an inn."
"What?"
"Go to Pierre's."
"Who?"
"Heitor?"
The call dropped. I tried to call back, but it went to voicemail. Damn it.
I left the bathroom, and Guimarães was leaning against the door with his hand outstretched.
"I can't be nice to you, can I?" He complained when I handed him the cellphone.
"Yeah, you were being a prince to me." I scoffed and lay down on the floor.
Guimarães took the handcuffs again and fastened my left hand to the bedside table in a way that it wasn't too stretched out, but I couldn't get up from the floor.
"Goodnight, Belle," Guimarães mocked.
"Goodnight, Beast," I replied, feeling my blood boiling with hatred.