Aren't You Afraid That I'm Deceiving You

I thought that it would be okay, as long as I didn't die from getting hit by the car.

Not long after, I heard the sharp sound of the brakes.

The impact of getting hit wasn't that heavy, but it was enough to send me rolling to the ground.

Upon hearing a pop, I looked up, albeit awkwardly.

Through the darkness, I noticed a person walking towards me. His face was barely visible. Slowly, he lit up a cigarette, and the flame of the lighter reflected in his eyes.

He appeared to be a good-looking man.

A second later, he puffed out a smoke ring, staring at me with interest. He didn't speak until he knew that I was so embarrassed of myself that I wanted to hide myself from his gaze.

"Miss, why didn't you choose someone more suitable to blackmail? Why'd you have to choose to get hit by my poor bike?"

The sound of his voice was deep and magnetic, but what he said was like a slap to my face.

He was indeed riding a mountain bike. The light I saw a few seconds ago must've come from the searchlight in front of his bike.

Perhaps he must be thinking that because of how disheveled I looked and embarrassed I appeared to be, I must've carefully orchestrated this fiasco to blackmail others.

When his eyes met mine, he froze for a moment, and the mockery on his face dissipated.

Quickly, I lowered my gaze, intending not to argue. I just held onto my legs as tight as I could, and didn't respond to him.

Seeing that I had no intention to ask him for compensation, nor cooperate with his ridiculous display, he put his hand with half a cigarette between his fingers on the bike's handlebar, and began to ride away.

As I watched him turn around a corner and disappear from my sight, I finally burst into tears.

At the moment, I wished that he had stayed around, even if he just wanted to laugh at me. At the very least, I would not be alone.

On the dark, eerily silent mountainside, only the sound of my wails could be heard.

Not long after, a light shone on me again, and I heard the sound of brakes once more. I looked up in surprise, and found the mountain bike at the roadside.

The man had come back. He sat at the roadside, casually smoking. "Aren't you afraid you'll attract ghosts because of how loud you're cryi

ng?"

Stunned by his question, I looked at him with tears in my eyes, and he looked back at me.

At this time, only the searchlight illuminated our spot. I could see his face clearly through the thin smoke.

His face was that of a god, handsome, charming, and very masculine. Even though he was merely wearing a sports attire and his bangs were dripping with sweat, he looked strong and calm. Even his legs and arms were muscular.

Perhaps he believed that I wasn't blackmailing him because I didn't ask him for compensation earlier. At this moment, he was just looking at me with confusion and doubt in his eyes.

"You don't look well." He glanced at my bare feet and noticed that they were stained with blood and mud.

Instinctively, I held my arms tightly. "I just… feel cold."

He nodded, put the cigarette between his teeth, got up, and took out a coat from a backpack on the bike. Then, he draped it over my shoulders.

"Thank you," I stammered.

I was moved by his gentlemanly act, but I was also feeling uneasy. His coat still smelled of soap; clearly, it was newly washed, but my whole body was very dirty.

"I think you need to go to hospital," he said.

The hospital? Shane was a doctor working at a hospital, and yet he was the reason I was so miserable right now.

With a bitter smile, I said, "I just want to go home."

The word "home" made my heart ache yet again.

Was that still my home?

The man looked at me for a while. His eyes were exuding some kind of emotion that I could not understand. He nodded and said, "I'll send you home."

I looked at his mountain bike upon hearing him say that, and felt that this task might prove a little difficult on that vehicle.

He must've guessed what I was thinking, so he chuckled, and took out his phone to make a call.

"Timmy, drive the car over here." After telling the other person our location, he disconnected from the call.

Embarrassed, I began to awkwardly rub my shoulders and fell into silence.

It was then that he lit another cigarette.

I could tell that he must be addicted to smoking.

"Aren't you afraid that I'm deceiving you?" he said in a lukewarm tone.

I shrank my neck, feeling dispirited.

"I have nothing left to lose," I told him.