The Taste Of It

Chapter 11

"This is the worst idea you could ever have!" A faint familiar voice said but it was hazy and sounded underwater-like.

"I know, but it's the only one we had," Another, deeper voice said back.

"We? This was all you, Russo. Do not bring me into it," Snapped another.

"Boys! Stop arguing...I think they're waking..." A softer, gentler voice. "Isabella? Jace?"

My brain wasn't firing off all cylinders yet but I could still process words. "Why the hell is Jace here?" I mumbled and tried lifting my head but a sharp burst of pain stopped me.

God, I feel like I had the worst hangover in my life. . .

"Isabella?" I felt a hand touch my face and lift it up. "Hi, Bella. Wake up, we have to talk with you."

"Mom?" I mumbled my head still racketing. "Whazgoion?"

"Come on, we'll explain everything when you wake up, okay?" She must've turned away be her words sounded far away, "What did you hit her with? She's a zombie right now."

"I'm not sure, something that James gave me..said something how it'll work better than anything else. Shouldn't have trusted the bastard." The deeper, graver voice muttered.

"Mom?" I mumbled again and the soft hand touched my cheek. It was cold and made me shiver. 

"What the fuck are they doing here?" A sharp voice snapped and I automatically recognized it and it snapped me out of whatever I was in. 

My vision was still hazy but I could see who everyone was. My mom, dad, Mrs. Volkov, Mr. Volkov and - I turned my head - motherfucking Jace.

"Morning," My dad nodded, "Don't try to get up." Ignoring what he said, I tried to get up only to realize my hands were tied behind a chair, my legs tied to the legs of it and a rope tightly hugged my waist. 

"What the hell?" I moved my wrist and the rope dug harder into my skin. I looked over to see Jace struggling, too. At least I'm not the only one. I thought as I glared at him."Why is he here?"

Mr. Volkov sighed when Jace's chair feel sideways breaking apart. Jace stood up, and brushed dirt off his dress pants. He wore black dress pants, Tom Ford loafers, a white button down that was undone at the top few and his sleeves rolled up. 

"Listen." Mr. Volkov didn't raise his voice in anyway but it was still authoritative and made everyone listen. "As you know," He gave a pointed look to Jace, "The Russians are targeting our family and it came into view recently it's also targeting yours." He glanced towards me.

"So," My mother looked hesitant. "We've decided the best idea was to not work against each other but with."

"With who?" I asked.

"The Volkovs."

"What do they have to do with anything?" I asked again.

"Dammit, Bella. We're working together."

"No fucking way," Jace and I said at the same time making us glare.

"I'm not doing this," Jace snapped.

Hating that I was going to agree with him, I muttered, "Neither am I. This is bullshit." I said a little louder.

"I know," My father said, before straightening his shirt sleeve. "But, it's only temporary. Until we stop the Russians."

If it wasn't my father who said that, I would have burst out laughing. It sounded like an old spy movie. Although my life wasn't far from it, it still seemed far-fetched. Working with a Volkov...

"So, what? We stop the Russians and I can kill her?" Jace looked like he would actually agree on this.

"Or she kills you." Ms. Volkov shrugged. "But, yes. You two can go back to your little feud."

"No way. I'm not doing this." I tried to look down on my dad but since I was still tied to the chair it was impossible. "It's so - so underhanded. Working with the enemy! I'd rather go through hell."

Considering Jace has already put me through it, the comparison wasn't the same but the exaggeration was. 

"Bella," My mother softened her voice. "It'd only be for a while. And it's to protect everyone. Our families and Mafia's."

"It makes sense," Jace mused making me snap my head over to me.

"Are you serious? You're going along with this?" Disbelief oozed from my voice.

"Look, I hate you as much as you do me, but they have a point. Plus, if anyone is going to kill you, it'll be me." His voice turned cocky at the end and I had the sudden urge to hit someone. Someone who's name started with a J and ended in Ace.

"This - this is..." I trailed off, no words came to mind of how horrible this sounded. Not horrible but down right impossible. How did they expect us to be nice to each other after seven years of fighting. 

"Reasonable." Mrs. Volkov walked over and undid my bindings. She helped me stand up. "I get it. It was seven years, we don't expect you to be buddy-buddy with each other. We just need the Russians off our back."

I'm not sure why but she made it sound less...far-fetched. Like I could actually do this. One glance at Jace and the thought that I could do it was completely impossible again.

"How - how do you expect us to get along?" My jaw grazed the floor. "We - we..." I trailed off.

"If you do possibly get along, you can have my car." My mother sighed and looked to my father who was looking at me. "Fair?" My mother asked.

Oh my God. My mom's car. It was my favorite dream car.

Bugatti La Voiture Noire

My parents had plenty of money to buy a dozen of them but my parents were the ones to give things when they're earned. 

"Seriously?" I asked. This is way too good to be true...

My mother nodded, "Yes. Just get through with this and it's all yours."

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

I resisted the urge to jump up and down like a tween girl at her favorite boy band's pop concert. Okay, maybe I shouldn't be too hard on the said tween girl. As my brother never forgets to remind me, I freakin' squealed at a boy band when I was 13.

"In that case, I won't only not kill him, I'll give a single shit about him." I smirked when my parents rolled their eyes.

"Great." My father deadpanned before excusing us. 

After I left the mysterious place, I found out I was in a warehouse down a couple streets from my home. My parents already called a car for us. And by us I mean, Jace and I. As in together.