FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM - HER FIRST LOVE

Five years later:

Lake Elsinore,

California,

The United States Of America. 

Lips pursed into a thin line, Liezel glared at her brother on the driver's seat as she breathed through her flared nostrils in annoyance, trying not to yell at him. Turning the key into the ignition, her brother Antony tried starting the truck one last time, before giving up. 

"Sorry, Lizzy, it won't start now. I'm afraid we've to walk the rest of the way," Antony said, brushing his palm over his face before his fingers locked in his dirty blonde hair, pushing it over his head. He had a big goofy grin on his face as he looked at his sister to find her still glaring at him with eyes that perfectly matched his blue ones. Being siblings, their eyes, hair, and other facial features were identical. 

Liezel was very much annoyed. Folding her arms, she leaned back against the bench seat of her brother's old truck.. She was sitting in the middle sandwiched between her brother and her husband.

She was on her way to her in-laws' place along with her husband Benson to fetch their three years old son. Her brother Antony was driving his old red truck, which suddenly broke down in the middle of the road, without any warning. 

"Why don't you sell this trash off, Tony and buy something which actually moves on the road?" Liezel snapped at her brother. 

"Don't be so harsh, Lizzy. It's our father's prized possession passed on to me, and I value it too much to sell it," Antony said, scowling at his little sister. She pushed him using both of her hands before punching his arm. Antony looked at her husband for help. Liezel is a five-foot two-inch petite woman, but she could be bossy and dangerous sometimes. 

Benson got down, lit his cigarette with a lighter, and jerked his head to the front signalling Antony to come out. Liezel watched as they shared the cigarette, taking turns, puffing it by inhaling gently into their mouth.

She waited, hoping that the good for nothing old truck starts while her husband opened the hood of it, looking into the engine. She heard a loud hissing noise coming from the hood, followed by a loud curse from her two companions. And she too cursed when it suddenly started to drizzle.

The days in California warm up a little during March, but she knew there would be a slight risk of encountering some showers of rain in the evening. It was mid-march, and the temperature would drop at night. Thankfully, Liezel had packed an umbrella, a heavier Jacket for herself and a waterproof Jacket for her little son.

She watched her husband trying one last time to cure the dying engine and signalled Antony to start the truck. They were friends and partners in crime even before Liezel married him. He was a tall, handsome man with brown eyes matching his hair, long crooked nose, full lips, and a well-defined jaw. She fell for his good looks despite knowing his involvement in illegal activities. She always wanted to have a son with her husband's face and traits, but her son took over Liezel's features. 

Antony shook his head and got off the truck as Benson shut the hood. They'd no choice but to walk the little distance. Liezel wore her Jacket over her pink sundress and grabbed the basket of fruits she bought for her in-laws.

There weren't any road or the corner that they weren't familiar with the city of Lake Elsinore. They were petty criminals, after all. Pickpocketing and cheating people with money were their source of income. They help drug traffickers in delivering the package sometimes to earn extra money in and around the whole of California.

The loud screeching sound of tires startled all three of them. They saw many identical cars following one another.

Suddenly they heard gunshots everywhere. They hid behind their truck and watched the most horrifying war of bloodshed. Men in black suits with guns were firing, damaging the black, shiny SUVs and also killing people in it in the process.

Benson and Antony dragged Liezel with them and hid behind a huge tree. They didn't dare to step out of their hiding place. Judging by the situation, they could only guess that the men belong to some Mafia associations.

The big silver box grabbed their attention, the same box those men were fighting over. "The box must have something valuable inside it if these men are ready to die for it," Benson whispered, and Antony agreed. "Money, or maybe some valuable jewels?" Antony suggested, "Or drugs even," he said, grinning at his partner in crime. 

Liezel's greedy husband and brother were plotting a plan to steal the box from those men while she was scared for her life. The evening was quiet and peaceful a while ago, and the road was dead empty. Out of the blue, it turned into a Warzone. 

They all jerked back, startled when a body landed right next to their hiding place. It wasn't a dead body, but an injured one nonetheless. A tall, well-built, muscular man crawled quickly behind the tree, and his blue eyes squeezed shut for a second as he grunted in pain. He clutched his left arm with his right hand to stop the bleeding the gunshot wound had caused. Liezel noticed, his legs began to shake, and she saw the blood wetting his thick black jeans pant. 

"He's shot in the leg as well," she said to no one in particular. The injured man took deep breaths, pushing his fingers through his blonde hair. 

"Please help," the man pleaded with them. He took out a paper and a pen from his Jacket and scribbled something in a hurry with his bloodied fingers. "Can you see that box over there?" He asked them, pointing at the silver box which was currently guarded by more than ten people. 

They all looked at the box and nodded. "Here, take this, help me and I'll pay you whatever amount of money you want," the injured man said with his thick Italian accent, handing over the letter he just wrote along with a thick envelope. 

The man was smart enough to know the financial conditions of the three people judging by their appearance. They looked nowhere near the status of the middle class. He could tell, they would do anything to earn extra money. "Here's the deal. Deliver the box safely to the address I've written in this paper. I'll meet you there later and if by any chance my men and I couldn't get out of here alive, then my friend John will be there to receive it. He will pay you the money. Just show this envelope to him when you meet him," with that said, he immediately jumped to his feet and surveyed the damage caused to his team. 

"Please help. I don't have much time. I'll bring that box to you and just run with it. My men will cover you," he said but didn't wait for their agreement. Dragging his injured leg with much struggle, he hurried to the man guarding the box. Within a few seconds, two of his men brought the box to Benson. 

"Take this money, now hurry up." The man handed them a wad of cash. Benson and Antony exchanged looks, and the man recognized the greed coating their gazes. He knew they would do his work as soon as they saw the bundle of money. They agreed, and he went back to his men, providing them with the protection he promised as they prepared to run. 

They heard more gunshots, and the bone-chilling screams increased. Whoever those men were, they were sacrificing their lives to protect that silver box.