C h a p t e r T h r e e:
L i c e n s e
T o
K i l l
!
Bella sat in the back seat of a taxi, trying hard not to look at the heavily tattooed, rather muscular driver. This was her vision of a wrestler, and Bella wasn't too keen on the idea that the only person who she had talked to since she had arrived was at least six foot tall and built like a truck. That would be great - really great - if she died because of an insane rapist who couldn't even talk right.
When he had asked where she wanted to go, Bella had absolutely no clue what the strange muttering meant. Was that what all Americans talked like? Because if they did she was going to have real trouble understanding them.
Thankfully, he had given up on conversation after about twenty long, torturous minutes but now they were just left in an uncomfortable silence, only broken when he was phoned by one of his friends.
Wasn't it supposed to be illegal to talk on a phone and drive at the same time? One handed, and sometimes just with his knees? What the hell was wrong with California? Had they never heard of road safety?
Bella breathed deeply. In ... and out ... In ... and out...
Oh God! Oh holy God! She had just breathed in the tobacco that was wafting off the driver. Hadn't they ever heard of passive smoking? It was supposed to be as bad as her taking one now and having a great long puff herself!
In ... and out ... In ... and out...
And ... Bella's eyes nearly popped out of her skull ... did she smell vomit?
In ... and out ... In ... and out
Oh God! There it was! On the seat! Dried in vomit! Its okay – she tried to assure herself. There's only ... only ... How many miles is there to go? How many freaking miles did she have to spend with this freaking taxi driver, and his freaking tobacco and his freaking vomit covered seats?!?
"Uh ..." Bella said quietly, "How many miles left is there left to go?"
"Hmm ... Let me just check, Hun."
What did he just call her? A ... 'Hun'? What the hell did that mean? Was it like some kind of sex name or something? Was it what he called his victims before he raped them? What the hell was wrong with this man?!?
She would have to get out. Bella nodded, shifting slightly to the right so she was nearer to the door. As soon as the car slowed down she would get out! Who cares about luggage! This was her life, she was talking about! Slowly, while sneaking glances into his rear-view mirror, Bella grabbed the silver and surprisingly shiny door handle waiting for the car to slow down to a speed she would be able to survive.
Wasn't it just her luck that they were on a motorway?
Bella waited, still breathing deeply through her nose. Eventually, they would get off it. And when, eventually, they did get off the motorway and when they did, when they slowed down to a safe speed – because she noticed the speedometer was casually creeping up – she would jump out.
But ... wait! Didn't she put her Prada handbags in there? Yeah, Bella thought, she had. Well, they are special edition. That brown one was an original – no one had a bag like that brown one! And her dresses - her designer dresses! They were all in there! All of the important labels were all in there!
She couldn't leave them behind!
That would be like ... like ... C.T.L! Cruelty to labels! Bella had never asked, but couldn't there potentially be a law about clothes. She would have to obey it, to redeem herself for disobeying other laws and then! Then, she would be able to break more laws because her past was a clean slate because she obeying this one! Yes! They had better have an off-licence and a club near that school!
"Uh ... Like about thirty-five minutes, not including traffic, Hun. Is that okay?"
"Uh ..." said Bella, not quite sure what he had said through his thick accent, "Sorry, what did you say?"
Maybe he found her slightly English accent just as hard to make out, because he paused for a moment before speaking, "We will be at the school in about thirty-five minutes."
He stopped, and Bella unsure why he had stared at him weirdly for a view moments before realising he was making sure she understood. After Bella nodded, he continued.
"That's not including traffic, Hun."
He glanced out of the window at the long line of traffic he had just pulled into, swearing loudly. My eyes followed his as they began following the long line of cars, wondering what was the hold-up.
An old rusty truck had clearly crashed into a shining Ferrari. Standing next to it were two young teenagers, about seventeen arguing with a middle-aged man. Hovering between them was a police-man, looking rather awkward as he glanced between them.
The man began gesturing frantically with his hands, hitting the police-man as he did so but not looking particularly bothered about it. Without looking at the police-man, he started speaking again. The police-man hastily scribbled something in his black book, before speaking. No one made any notice of it, and his expression grew more and more frustrated with each attempt to talk.
Her driver froze for about thirty seconds, watching the scene play out in front of him before he swore loudly again and gripped the steering wheel tightly for the first time since she had gotten in the taxi, glanced in the rear mirror and turned, performing an illegal U-turn to do so.
That was strike two. First he drove with knees and talked on a mobile and now he was performing U-turns which were, last time Bella checked, strictly prohibited.
She had to have the worst luck if the first person she met was some criminal taxi driver.
AN:
Okay ... I know its short, believe me – I know.
But I really pushed this chapter because I knew I was going to be on holiday for a few weeks after this and I didn't want there to be that much of a gap between updates.
Aren't I great?
No, wait. Don't answer that ...
I'm going to Spain tomorrow and in case I die on the plane – which I might with my luck, and its my first one – I'll die happy knowing you guys have reviewed ...
Well that sounds kind of gay ...
... and sad ...
... Plus I probably just jinxed myself ...
Still ...
... REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!
God, I sound really whiney, don't I?