That Canadian Hospitality

Chapter 2 - She's in Bora Bora with Pedro

No answer.

I waited for a few moments, looking at the front window trying to see any movement coming from inside, before pressing the doorbell button again. I rubbed my arms trying to bring some heat to my shivering body. I glanced around the patio and yard making sure that I was at the right house. The snow covered the small parts of the yard but I was able to recognize familiar features of the house I sorta grew up in. If I squinted hard enough I could just make out the outline of what I thought was my great aunt's vintage Volkswagen beetle in the garage.

Why wasn't she opening the door? I know it's late but she should be home at this hour.

I started banging on the door, dismissing all courtesies aside and was about to start shouting for my aunt, when I saw light shinning from the front window and heard the locks being turned as the door was finally opened.

"I'm sorry to have waken you." I turned away, looking down at my suitcase and grabbed the handle before turning back to the front door to properly greet my great aunt.

"We are not interested in whatever you're selling in that bag or if you're trying to recruit us into some organization." I had zero time to process the fact that instead of my great aunt welcoming me, an unknown and topless guy was talking to me in an annoyed voice, "I don't know who in their right mind would come to someone's place at this hour. So I suggest you come back later or better yet don't come back at all and screw off completely."

He slammed the door in my face before I could even get a word in. I was dumbfounded, my jaw dropped. Who the hell was that guy? Was he robbing my aunt? I could barely look at the guy's face  since I was too shocked to notice anything but abs... And the fact that some random guy was in front of me and not my great aunt. I was about to ring the doorbell again, but paused when I realized that I could have made a humiliating mistake. I thought about it for a minute before walking down the driveway to the mailbox and verifying the number on the side. I opened the mailbox and grabbed a letter from inside of it, reading out loud the address.

"Marsha J Everson, 148 Grant Street, Toronto, ON, Canada.." Yeah I was definitely in the right place, this confirmed it. I walked back up the patio steps, worried that I might have to fight some guy that could possibly be a criminal in action, and rang the doorbell a few times, shouting for the man to open up. While I was waiting I looked around the patio to see if I could chuck something at the guy's face in an attempt to rescue my aunt. I normally wasn't a violent person but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

It felt like forever before the door swung open and the same guy, thankfully this time with a shirt on, greeted me with a scowl and crossed arms.

"Hey, I don't know who you are buddy but what have you done with my aunt Marsha?" I tried to stand taller, trying to intimidate the guy towering over me. The guy stared at my face for a long time before rolling his eyes and turning to the side, leaving enough space for me to enter.

Wait was this his sick invitation to become one of his other victims? As if, I would rather freeze my butt off out in the cold than fall for a trap.

"No way, you got another thing coming if you think I'm just going to waltz in while some guy could be holding someone I love as hostage." I was very concerned about the well being of my aunt but I couldn't let this guy think I was some easy prey.

"Well someone is the judging type. What makes you think I'm going to hurt anybody?" he snapped, his dark gaze never leaving my face.

"Are you freaking kidding me? You judged me first and slammed the door in my face just because you mistook me for a door to door salesperson." I snapped back, I assumed this shot of attitude came from a combination of different factors like being cold, tired and sad.