Major props to Fran and Mary, who got this chapter back to me in record time!
Things are heating up. Are you ready?
BPOV
No, no, no!
Not right now, please!
I'm already late for my shift at Carmen's. I fell asleep a little before four-thirty a.m. after twisting and turning most of the night. When my alarm went off at five-forty-five, pushing the snooze button was far too easy. Twice.
And now here I am, sitting behind the wheel of my dead Chevy, ready to cry. Why, out of all the shitty mornings, is today the day that my car decided to breathe its final breath.
My head falls against the headrest as I glare at the stained ceiling of the cab.
Now what.
With a frustrated sigh, I begin fishing through my bag for my cell. I have to call Carmen and let her know I won't make it in. I've got to find a tow company and a mechanic, and oh God, my bank account can't handle this!
As I search for my phone, my fingers clasp another item. It's one I've been pushing to the back of my mind since Edward handed it to me weeks ago. Hooking my index finger through the circular key chain, I pull it from my bag, considering my options.
He gifted me a nearly brand-new Audi. It's sitting in his garage unused, with only six thousand miles on it.
I mean, would it be so bad if I borrowed the car for the day?
It's not like I'll keep it forever. I'll just use it until I figure out what to do with my truck. Or until I can afford payments on a new piece of crap car.
Which will be when, Bella?
Ignoring my inner snarkiness, I grab my stuff and hop from the truck, not even bothering to lock it. It's not going anywhere.
I sprint through the parking garage and employee halls toward Edward's elevator bank. I text Carmen as I go, letting her know I'm running behind, but I'll be there as quickly as possible.
Once I make it to Edward's garage, I pause, unsure which luxury vehicle is supposed to be mine.
"Can I help you, Miss Swan?"
I spin on my heel to face a refined gentleman I remember as Edward's valet.
"Um, I'm supposed to have a car down here, but I don't know which one." I hold up the key lamely.
He smiles and gently places a hand on my back, leading me to a sleek black vehicle nearby. "Mr. Cullen will be pleased you've accepted his gift."
Cringing, I push the key fob, unlocking the doors. "Yeah, well, let him know it's temporary." With a quick thanks, I climb in and shut the door.
The engine purrs to life when I start the car, and the soft leather seat curls around my body like a caress. I'm instantly annoyed with myself for ignoring this vehicle for as long as I have. It's amazing.
Clearing my throat and shaking away my awe, I shift into drive and accelerate. Quickly, I'm out the gate and on the road, reveling in the smoothness of the drive.
I accelerate faster than I need to, my speed inching close to unacceptable as I take back streets to the diner. I have the fleeting thought that I should park behind the building today, as this car has to be a magnet for those set on committing grand theft auto.
Taking the final turn with too much enthusiasm, my tires squeal, announcing my arrival at Carmen's. I park near the back kitchen entrance and jump out, pressing the lock on the key fob as I rush into the restaurant.
"Long night." Carmen winks when I stumble into the kitchen. I stick my tongue out at her as I tie my apron around my waist and grab my order pad.
I'm through the double doors, with a "Good morning, and welcome to Carmen's" falling from my lips before I even have a moment to think.
After I seat my first table, I check the clock to see how late I am.
I'm still two minutes early.
The drive that took twenty minutes in my truck took about ten in Edward's Audi.
Okay. So, maybe keeping the car isn't the wrong decision.
I spend my shift arguing with myself whether to accept Edward's present and let go of my truck.
One thought keeps holding me back. What if we don't work out?
Edward is enamored with me right now, but what about the future? Where do we go from here?
Will I spend years staying overnight in his penthouse? Is he willing to make a life with me? Am I willing to stay with a man who has bodies buried in his yard? Or the desert, Lake Mead, or wherever the mafia buries bodies nowadays.
I'm so engrossed in my thoughts that I don't notice the man in the corner booth until I'm standing before him with a coffee pot in hand and a smile plastered across my face. "Welcome to Carmen's. What can I get you to drink?"
Ice-cold blue eyes slice toward me, and I stifle a gasp. Muscles tensing, adrenaline flowing, I desperately search for Carmen, the bus boy, a cook—anyone who can save me from the danger sitting in front of me.
"Kukolka," the Russian man says. It's low and menacing, a warning, not a pet name. His lips curl into a condescending smirk as his frozen gaze rakes my form. I shiver and step away. "Your boyfriend does not take care of you?" He says, eyes lingering on the short hemline of my dress."
"Excuse me?" I consider throwing the hot coffee in his face and running. I need to call Edward and warn him that the man has returned.
"If you were mine, I would not let you work." The snake tattoo wrapped around the man's finger dances as he taps the tabletop. "I would keep you at home. Occupied." The way his tone drops makes the hairs on my arm stand on end.
I have to get out of here. I suddenly feel stupid for not listening to Edward—for demanding to take care of myself and work this dumb job. I'm exposed here. There's no security around the corner to save me. As I pivot, ready to escape, the man's sweat-slicked hand snatches my forearm, holding me still. His fingers dig into my flesh, and I wince, trying to tug myself free without success.
"I warned you once. You keep Cullen away from my business, and I'll leave you alone. Did you not understand?" He's dragging me closer to him. His breath smells of whisky. I wonder if he started drinking when he woke up or if his night never ended.
I'm trapped. I have to fight, or God knows what will happen, so without hesitation, my hand tips, pouring scalding liquid over the man's jean-clad lap.
"You bitch!" He drops my arm in an attempt to scramble up from the booth. I can't wait. I spin on my heel and run.
We are causing a scene, and every eye in the restaurant is on me as I burst through the doors to the kitchen. "Carmen!" I sprint to my purse, pulling the key to my new car from the side pocket. "I have to go. It's an emergency."
She sputters an "Are you okay?" that I ignore as I push past and toss my apron in her direction. Heidi is coming through the back entrance, slipping off her cardigan.
"Table twelve wants waffles with a side of scrambled eggs," I shout as I pass, her head whipping around to watch me.
"Huh?" Her confused expression fades from view as I run toward the Audi, unlocking it as I go.
When I reach the door handle, I swing it open only to realize footsteps are falling close behind me. Stupidly, I take the time to check over my shoulder, and my heart pounds as I spot the angered Russian chasing me. His expression is reminiscent of a wolf attacking its prey. And fuck me, I'm the prey.
I'm in the car, door closed, and engine on before he can reach me. Reversing, I nearly take the man out, and as I shift into drive, I wonder if I shouldn't just go ahead and do exactly that—incapacitate him.
But before I have time to decide, another vehicle whips around the corner of the building, and the man darts toward the passenger side.
Shit!
I give the Audi all I've got, pressing the accelerator to the floor and flying out to the street. I thank God there are no cars around as I speed through a yellow light and make a hard left.
I turn, watching in my rearview mirror. The Russian's sedan nearly misses a Toyota as it barrels through the now red light.
"Oh, God," I mutter, pushing Edward's Audi as hard as I dare. I've got it going eighty in a fifty, and I'm pretty sure that I do not have the driving skills to outmaneuver the other car, which is quickly gaining ground behind me.
I've got to get back to La Bellissima. Once I'm in Edward's garage, I'll be safe.
I increase my speed when I turn onto a wider street. A few cars are scattered across the lanes, but I hit ninety before slowing and slipping between them. I call out an apology to an older couple when I come dangerously close to hitting them as I cut them off. I know they can't hear me and likely think I'm some sort of jackass for driving the way I am, but I feel bad despite the situation.
The sedan is about fifty yards back when La Bellissima comes into view. I just have half a mile and a left-hand turn, and then I'll be sequestered in the safety of Edward's care.
But, of fucking course, every light between myself and the hotel turns red at once.
Even if I wanted to stop, I'm going too fast. So I say a prayer, close my eyes, and speed through the newly red light.
Tires squeal, and metal crashes against metal, but I keep moving forward.
Holy shit, I'm going to hell.
Two cars collided at the intersection, trying to avoid me. Unfortunately, the sedan was not one of them. They zip past the wreck without as much as a pause.
I slow as I veer into the left turn lane at the next intersection. If I don't, I'll slam into the cars that have already stopped. I'm grateful to find no one coming from perpendicular directions as I curve my wheel, steering through cross traffic and running yet another red light.
Where the hell are all the cops? I wonder. Maybe it's too early in the morning for them to patrol. It seems they're everywhere at night. I would one hundred percent take whatever ticket they are willing to give me right now if they scare off my Russian pursuers.
The final light turns green, and I sigh in relief when the intersection in front of me remains open. Coming up on my left is the turn that will take me to the back side of La Bellissima and Edward's garage. I whimper in relief as I hit my blinker, letting everyone behind me know my plan because I'm an idiot and usually a very safe driver.
To try to confuse my tail, I turn on my right blinker. Which is stupid, I know, but at the moment, my brain is fried and full of all the ways this man can kill me.
My back wheels drift as I turn, and I fishtail slightly. But my eyes water with grateful tears as I spot Edward's garage before me. I hit the opener and step on the brake, desperately begging the gate to open faster. As the sedan appears in my mirror, the gate opens just enough for me to enter.
My side mirror clanks against the wrought iron, bending the obtrusion against the car's body as I squeeze through. Once my back bumper clears the space, I hit the button to close the gate. It shutters to a stop before slowly rolling back the way it came, closing me in. I don't wait to ensure the sedan pauses as I careen down the slope to park and skid to a halt.
The Audi sits haphazardly diagonal in the middle of the garage as I throw the door open and spill from the car.
I screech out, "Help! Please," running toward the elevator bank. Within seconds, Edward's valet appears from around the corner, gun drawn.
"Miss Swan!" He reaches out, catching me as I crash into his form, desperate for safety. He holds me at arm's length, eyes darting between me and the ramp leading to the garage entrance. "What is it?"
"I'm being chased… the man with the blue eyes and the tattoos… he showed up at work. I need Edward." My hands shake as I fumble with my purse, digging for my cell.
The valet is less concerned about my attempts to find my phone than he is about getting me inside. He hurries me along, glancing over his shoulder the whole way to the elevator bank. "Go upstairs, all the way to the penthouse," he says, pushing the button and causing the elevator doors to open. I'll get a hold of Mr. Cullen." His phone is already pressed to his ear, and he's telling whoever is on the other line there's a security alert in the garage.
Once I'm enclosed in the small space of the lift, my shoulders sag, and I fall against the back wall.
What the hell was that?
I scoff. I know what that was. That was the mafia coming after me because my boyfriend is involved in, God only knows what, illegal dealings.
But then I remember Edward's promise. He's trying to stop people from committing crimes.
Tugging at my hair, I blink back tears. I refuse to cry in fear.
I just want to get upstairs, where Edward will protect me.
A/N: Whew! The Petrovs have Bella on their radar... can Edward keep her safe?
Until next time!
