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Guardian Angel	By : akaWind Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 1512 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7
Darren walked on a street with a number of rich houses. He had been here before, when he was picked up by one of the moneymakers, that lived in one such house.
He still remembered what that pervert have done with him. After that night he could not work the streets for a week. Stan had been furious. Darren winced at the unwelcome recollection of this morning. There was never enough money for Stan. Likely there never would be. He needed Darren's body, enjoyed his pain. Stan hardly ever used lubricant, he took pleasure in hurting Darren. Darren didn't understand how he had become involved with that bastard. Stan didn't fulfill any of the obligations characteristic of a pimp. Stan didn't protect him on streets, didn't help with a place to stay or food to eat. All Stan did was to sometimes bring him clients and take away a most of the money. Usually there wasn't even money, since he most often brought his huge, greasy self.
With those sad thoughts, Darren approached Daniel's home. He wasn't sure if this was the right house. Daniel had given him quick directions, but he had gotten lost twice on the way and there were two streets with the same name, he was sure. Darren took a deep breath and went into courtyard.
`My God, he must be millionaire to live in such a big house,' he thought.
He passed through the courtyard, stepped on the porch, and with trembling hands he opened the door. His heart raced and he suddenly wished he had never started this. He hated his nervousness.
Not wanting to lose another minute, he climbed the stairway from the first floor and went into the bedroom. He found the safe behind the night table as Daniel had said. Carefully he moved beside it and typed in the necessary code. The safe opened.
"Gosh! I've never seen so much money in my life. Who are you, Daniel? A banker, trader or…?"
The sound of the door opening downstairs caused Darren to flinch. Someone was in the house. He heard steps and voices. Lots of steps and several voices, but he couldn't understand the words.
Darren grasped several packs of money . `Get the credit cards and phone, then run away.' He looked in the drawer Daniel had told him to. There were several cards in there. He grabbed them and the phone from night table. Then he stepped out of the bedroom as quietly as possible. He stopped to listen.
"Are you sure this is his house?"
"If that bastard was wrong, I'll tear his head off. Let's go upstairs and check there."
Darren didn't listen anymore. He stepped back into the bedroom.
`What to do?' Those three words echoed in his head over and over. "What to do?" He whispered to himself.
With a growing dread he searched. Where could he hide from those people? Under the bed? In the closet? Behind the curtain? He can heard steps coming up the stairway. No. No. No. No time to hide. "What to do? Please, God, help me."
A window. His chest tightened and breathing became painful. He was terrified of heights. Quietly opening the window, he got up on the sill. "God, help me." He whispered, then jumped.
Thank God, the blow from the ground was not that strong. Darren jumped to his feet and ran from the house, but road was blocked by thick bushes of jasmine. He stopped, looking for some way out.
Suddenly a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
"Well, well, well…. Where do you think you are going, kid?"
A voice. That voice. He had heard it once before. Darren slowly turned around and found himself face to face with one of the men he had seen on that damned street.
"Oh, look who we have here, guys. This is the kid from the street. The one with the smart mouth and bad sense of humour. So, what are you doing here?"
`What to do?' Darren thought in a panic. "I… I… don't know what you mean," he whispered.
"Ha-ha-ha. You jest again. Well that was very funny, but now you tell me where is the man we search for." The man breathed in his face. "What do you do in here? Collect flowers?"
Darren heard laughter and realized he was surrounded on all sides. Five men looked at him. He had nowhere to run.
"I don't know what you mean." He repeated the words again. Suddenly an idea came in his head. "I came here to steal. This is a very rich house. Here, look at this."
With these words he took out a pack of money.
"Huh, you're a petty thief." One man said. "I seen you got quite a bit of money. Congratulations. But why do I think that our meeting was not so casual. Let's go in house, we need to speak." He took Darren's hand firmly.
`This is the end,' thought Darren. `If I go back in there with these men, I'll die.' He steeled his nerves, took a deep breath and yanked his hand from the man's iron grasp.
"Aw, guys. You see that? The kid don't want to talk with us." The big man smirked. "Don't be afraid. It won't be too painful for you. Just a little…" At those words, Darren was tossed between the men like a wounded bird amongst hungry cats. Not stopping to think what he was doing, he kicked one of the men in the groin. The man doubled over in agony. Darren jumped over his back and dashed for the front of the house.
"Stop him!" He heard the shout and something whizzed near his left ear. "They're shooting at me! God, please, help me."
And he ran.
TBC
- 6
- 7
- 8
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