Author's Note: This man is what I imagine Hunter Garrett to look like.

Great. Just great. The fact that I had been so, so abysmally close just made it even worse. 

I turned my head the slightest fraction to the side and was rewarded by the press of cold iron into my skull. I caught a glimpse of brown hair, a green eye, and a serious frown. 

"Listen, buddy, maybe no one told you, but a gun to the head isn't the best way to greet a lady. What do you say you point that thing somewhere else and let me turn around?"

The pressure against my skull eases the tiniest bit and I let myself exhale. "See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" I raise my hands, one of them still clutching the blueprints, and turn around slowly.

His face was set in a grim line. It was a nice face. Almost attractive without the murderous look in his eyes. It really was a shame about the frown. 

"Who. Are. You." His voice was like stones scraping against stones. 

"O-oh. I'm Sca-Madeline."

"Madeline. Of course. What the hell are you doing in my office?"

"I um. I was, uh, trying to, fix the safe. Yes, that's it. I was fixing the safe."

"Then why are the blueprints which hold the key to my entire business in your hands? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but last I checked, you didn't need paper to fix a safe."

Lovely. A sarcastic one. I stood up and pushed my hair off my forehead. I probably smeared blood across my face in the process, but I couldn't make myself care. "Listen, sir, I was actually here to save these blueprints for a higher purpose. I would be happy to enlighten you as to wh-"

"I want him dead! Search the entire premises, and BRING ME HUNTER GARRETT!" 

The man whirled around. Then he turned back to me. His jaw flexed and his scowl deepend. His eyes had an odd look in them. Like a hunted animal.

"Normally, I would blow your brains out, but as of now, I've got bigger fish to fry. You're coming with me." He reached down, wrenched the precious documents from my hands, and proceeded to fold them up and shove them into a pocket on his waistcoat. Then he grabbed my arm in a not-so-gentle grip and hauled me up, keeping me at gunpoint. "Let's go."

"Hey, wait. I don't even know your name." He nudged the door open with his foot and looked out. He looked like an ostrich. An entitled ostrich who made the mistake of ignoring me. "Excuse me, Mr.Garrett. At least, I think you're Mr.Garrett. Do you mind telling me where we're going and what you intend to do with me?"

"Shut up. I'll tell you later."

Rude. Normally, I wasn't so much a pushover as I let a random stranger hold me at gunpoint and tow me out of a room to god knows where. If my head was functioning properly, Mr. Garrett would have a black eye and a broken nose by now. Maybe bruised ribs for good measure.

I stopped and yanked my arm out of his hand. "Listen, you don't get to push me around. I am not the type of girl to grovel at someone's feet and hope they grant me mercy. Either you tell me where we're going, or I will scream so loud they might hear me in China. I'm quite sure that will bring those other goons running."

He had the audacity to smirk at me. "Or I could just shoot you right now, Madeline. What's stopping me?"

I'd like to see him try. I stepped up close to him, close enough to see the golden flecks in his green eyes. Then I grabbed his shoulders, kneed him in the gut, and spun around so that I was pulling his arm up behind his back. He grunted. Grunted. Seriously. I'd done this at least 40 times before, and the men were usually screaming in pain by now. What would it take to stop this man? 

"Oh, I don't know. I feel like having your arm pushed up behind your back may prevent you from blowing my brains out."

"Really? You think so?"

And in a lightning-quick movement that sent me reeling, my back was pressed up against the wall, and the gun was centimeters from my forehead. I gasped.

"Not so spunky now, are you."

Why, oh, why, of all days, had I left my wrist sheath and knife at home. Stupid, stupid Scarlett.

"I just want to know where we are going. It's a one-second answer, for god's sake."

"Unless you would like to be taken back to The Creator to be his personal toy, I suggest you come quietly. I will answer all your questions as soon as we are safe. I give you my word."

Yeah, well, I didn't really trust his word right then, but I wanted to know more about this Creator fellow, whoever he was. So against my better judgment, I pushed the gun out of my face and gestured for him to lead the way. And with a very mocking smirk that I wanted to slap off his face, he did.

It didn't take long, thankfully, before we were off the premises. Mr. Garrett seemed to know about quite a few hidden passageways that I had somehow failed to notice. I turned to him, hands on my hips, and gave him my best glare, one perfected after staring down one too many rich criminals. 

"Okay, I followed you. Now what?"

"Now you follow me some more."

Hours and a very muddy trudge (again) later, I found myself at the door of a large mansion. I whistled through my teeth. "Wow." And then I remembered Olive. If she hadn't already called the police, she was probably doing so now. "Excuse me, Mr. Shut-up-you're-coming-with-me, I have a call to make. Do you have a telephone I could use?"

"There is a telephone inside my home. Call whoever you need to. They will be sent for in my private carriage, and guest quarters will be set up for both you and whoever this person you are calling is."

I gaped. "Excuse me? I am not living in your house, and neither is Olive. I have things at my place that I need to pick up. I need to go. Now."

"You will be staying with me until further notice." He stopped and turned to look at me. His face, dare I say it, actually softened. "On second thought, let's take my private carriage now, and we can go to wherever it is you live, pick up your friend, and whatever else you need. But for safety's sake, you need to stay with me."

He pulled a peculiar whistle out of his coat pocket and blew into it. I didn't hear anything, but second's later, an automaton-driven carriage had pulled up inches from my nose. He laughed at my flabbergasted expression. "Get in. We can talk in here."

He reached down a hand to help me into the back. I smacked it away and climbed in myself. As soon as I shut the door, the carriage began to move. An automated voice filtered through the speakers. "Where to?"

I swallowed. "Number 17, Ruby Lane."

Mr. Garrett settled into the seat across from me and crossed his arms. "Now, then, Madeline, how about you tell me your real name?"

"You tell me yours first."

He laughed. It was an odd laugh, carefree and boyish, yet guarded. Like a steel trap camouflaged by leaves. "Smart girl. I'm Hunter. Garrett, as you probably already know."

I raised my chin in what I hoped was a show of elegance. "Scarlett Johnson. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Miss Johnson."

Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a stop, throwing me forward, in the most embarrassing and unflattering way, onto him. When I opened my eyes, his face was a hair's distance from mine. The automated voice filtered into the cab again.

"Mr.Garrett, Miss Johnson. We have arrived at our destination."  

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And that's Chapter 2. Chapter 3 will be coming soon. Don't forget to comment and make me smile by clicking that star!