“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly. “So could you please…”

One glare from the man and she went silent. The only sounds she could hear were the ceiling fans whirring and her heart almost beating out of her chest. Only two more hours, she kept telling herself. Two more hours till her father came and gave her the ransom money.

How long have her hands been tied behind the metal rod? She could not tell. All she knew was that on her way to school, something hit the back of her head and caused her to lose balance. Hot, white-red pain spread throughout her head, which caused her to black out. When she gained consciousness, she was hungry, sweating in her school uniform, her hands tied behind a metal rod, and her legs numb.

She never had the urge to go to the washroom, but she doubted these men would let her go even if she asked. These men did not give her any information and would always slam her head against the metal rod behind her whenever she asked a question.

Two more hours, she muttered to herself, fighting back tears. Every inch of her ached, and she felt thirsty and dirty, as if she had consistently been wearing the same clothes for several years. Two more hours till her father came with the money to get her back.

***

 Gideon’s heart was racing.

The last thing he wanted was to anger two bulky men who looked like they could pound his head to the floor in one punch.

He could think of all the horrible possibilities: them beating him up, leaving his body to rot in an empty alley while dogs fed on him…why had he chosen to take this pizza delivery job in the first place-?

“You don’t have to sound so nervous,” one of the bulky men said, towering over Gideon, his gold chain almost smacked Gideon in the eye. “We’ll take it to the boss.”

Gideon wished he could do that. However, their company had a new policy: the delivery man must hand the item to the customer who made the order themselves. This was probably the most absurd rule Gideon had ever heard of. What if the customer was disabled? Or what if the customer was in bed and couldn’t move? What if the customer, who was disabled and in bed, had ordered the pizza for their children who’d open the door?

The other bulky man let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, man. Just give it.”

Gideon resisted the urge to gulp. Why can’t they just let him give it to Mr. Tobias? “Are you Mr. Tobias Greene?”

“What if I said I am?” he replied. “Would you give it to me then?”

“Dude,” the man with the gold chain said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re such an idiot- never mind. Let’s just take this guy to the boss.”

Gideon breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally.

He followed them to a small, empty workhouse. Stacks of heavy sacks and packages stood against every wall, and only five to six men were inside. The cigarette stench and smoke suffocated the atmosphere more than Gideon had felt outside. However, what really threw him off was the girl in the corner. She wore the local school’s uniform, her hands tied behind a metal rod. She stared down and was muttering something continuously.

Moonlight poured through the window behind her, making him see her face more clearly. Her head was bleeding.

Gideon’s mind went on alert. This wasn't good.

“Ah,” someone said, making his attention snap back to the person in front of him: a stout man dressed in a suit and a curly red beard. “I am Mr. Tobias Greene.”

“Right.” Gideon handed the pizza he had been clenching with sweaty hands. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. But the girl…

“Boss!” someone behind Mr. Tobias said. “Why is the pizza so small?”

“I didn’t order this for you, dimwits,” he said, turning away from Gideon and making his way to another room. “Follow me. We have another deal.”

Gideon gulped. “Um-”

“Not you. These idiots.”

Disgruntled, all the men followed Mr. Tobias out of the room. Nobody paid the slightest attention to Gideon, who stood there with shaking knees and heart hammering. Why was he so scared? He did nothing wrong. With that thought, he turned around and made his way to the exit.

The girl coughed, stopping him in his tracks.

Right. The schoolgirl. Her hands were tied. That meant she was being held hostage.

Gideon smacked his head. How did he not realize this sooner? No wonder his staff members called him the dumbest among them. At the back of his head, he did not want to believe such an absurdity. It wouldn’t hurt to at least confirm, he told himself.

No one was there. This was a good chance.

He made his way to her and knelt beside her. She looked up, panic-stricken and frozen.

“Hi.” Gideon didn’t know why he sounded so nervous; he was probably frightening the poor girl. “Um, what’s your name? Are you being held hostage?”

She opened her mouth to speak, only to cough. She nodded.

“Okay, well. I’ll untie you right now. No noise, okay?”

Minutes passed in silence. As he tried to figure out how to unknot the rope around her hands, he kept praying that none of Mr. Tobias’ men came in. He hated feeling high alert for a long time. His heart never had the chance to beat at an average pace yet.

At last, the knot loosened. She held her hands in front of her, staring at them in disbelief. She tried to stand up and immediately fell. Her legs were probably numb, and she must’ve been dizzying from the blood loss.

This was bad. He had to get themselves out of here.

“Um,” he said, looking out the window. It seemed to be big enough for both to fit and get out. “Can you get on my back?”

She did, holding his shoulders tight with uncertainty and wrapping her legs around him. He heard her mumble a feeble ‘thank you’ and thought: what if he couldn’t get her out? What if he was captured, too?

“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?” someone hollered behind him.

Gideon almost jumped out of his skin. Without thinking, he hastily climbed onto the window, balancing himself on the frame. The layer of grass was not that low. He could make a safe jump and get them both out of there. With that, he jumped, almost lost his footing, took a second to balance himself, and ran to his motorcycle. Thank goodness it was still there.

The girl sat on the back of his motorcycle and put on his helmet on his command, still trembling. Gideon switched his bike on, turned around, and drove away from the workhouse without a thought in his mind.

***

“So, how’s your father?”

The girl, whose name was Clara, sipped her juice and sighed. “He’s still arguing with the police because they didn’t give Mr. Tobias the right punishment. You know, for selling illegal stuff that he won’t tell me about and kidnapping me. Most horrible experience. How’s your business, sir?”

Gideon smiled and took the empty plates from her. She was at his restaurant to check on him and thank him by paying an extra tip. No one in his batch ever called him dumb anymore. He even got more customers, who praised him for his bravery, though one could argue that he was reckless and many things could have gone wrong if he had not acted fast. “It’s,” he said, “alright.”