Crashing Down Into Flames

Chapter 26

Chapter Song: If U Think I'm Pretty- Artemas

Tuesday- Morning

-Evangeline-
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"How bad was the workout?" Charlotte asks as she hands me the ever-so-loving coffee she bought me today.

After my lovely knife-throwing skills were shown last night, I walked to my new house- a soon regretful moment because shoes and my laptop are important. Especially, since my laptop was wide open with my emails, so hopefully August, or Nicholas, maybe Mr. W. didn't go through my laptop. As is said, it's not the smartest idea.

Even though my new house and August's house weren't far away from each other, it was painful to walk on every single rock.

This morning, August said he was sorry to me and made up by buying me coffee. August never says sorry to anyone other than me, so I took it with pride and accepted it. Not only is August the only one I trust enough to know me so well, but he's also my trainer. Plus, how am I supposed to say no to forgive-me-coffee?

"Terrible. Twenty Russian Twists, ten minutes on the treadmill, and twenty minutes on the leg press are killing my legs and abdomen." Not to mention, the bruised feeling in my crotch from the still wearing-off after-effects of the time in the elevator with Mr. W. yesterday and the mini cuts on my feet from rocks walking home. All thanks to the pleasures of August's doings.

I'm starting to regret forgiving him, even if the coffee was great for five minutes before it disappeared. He definitely didn't forget me taking two bites out of that pizza.

"Well, it can't get worse from here," She tells me, taking a sip of her coffee with so much shit out it in it, it might as well as be creme-sugar.

We start heading out of the overcrowded coffee shop, exiting the door. My legs radiate a warm thumping of pain which screeches to my abdomen with each step, making my walking slower than normal while moving across the street.

But that's not my legs screeching that I hear next to me as Charlotte and I cross the parking lot to her car. It's the screeching of a car pulling out from the drive-thru of the coffee shop and stopping before hitting us.

My legs would have jumped if it didn't hurt so much, but now they want to collapse from pain and paralyzing fear. The warm steam from the front of the car beats against my legs as I realize how close it was to hitting me.

I don't even think about how nice the black Lamborgini with a small golden symbol to mark the brand on the hood costs as I hit my free hand against the surface. A small splash of my coffee spills on the hood while I hit it- staring straight into the tinted windshield, "What the fuck!" I yell.

Charlotte stands next to me -far from the car at my side- shocked either almost seeing me getting hit or by my outburst. Either way, there's a lethal dose of adrenaline going through my bloodstream.

He steps out of the car, his height making me question how he fits into that low of a car.

My eyes scan him before I can comprehend who he is. His black matte dress shoes shine beneath his pitch-black dress pants. He wears a pitch-black tie tight against his black long-sleeve button-down shirt with a black two-buttoned down vest -with white lining the edges- on top. The vest clings tight to his ribcage and bodice- as if it were acting as a corset.