Anywhere (BBW Romance) (3 page)

Meanwhile, I was the epitome of dumbfounded, anxious and exhilarated. He’d managed to arouse me, contain me and challenge me all at once. I didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t admit anything. His words were carefully chosen, and that made him all the more dangerous, exciting and desirable.

I didn’t know his name, where to meet him or what to wear; I knew I wanted an escape from reality, and I had a feeling my mystery man would help me with that.

Chapter Four

Present Day

Aeren

From that first night, I trusted Ram. He provoked and reassured me all in the same sentence. He’d never given me any reason to doubt him, so I needed to believe in him. I needed to believe that I would see him again, that he would be there later, and that he wouldn’t let me down if I made it.

That was the catch:
if
I made it.

“Mrs. Horace.” I found her in her favorite recliner. Her hearing aid must have been turned to max because the television wasn’t very loud.

She glared at me suspiciously as I approached. “It’s that fellow that comes in and out every couple months, isn’t it?”

M
y heart was still pounding heavily, seeming to cut each breath short. Extending my hand, I passed her the phone. “I think the less you know, the better.” Perhaps she was more aware than I’d given her credit for.

She stood and walked to the bedroom.

Lightning crackled, quickly followed by several rolls of thunder. I wasn’t looking forward to driving in the downpour. I wouldn’t be able to see as well, to monitor whether I was being trailed or not.

The moment Mrs. Horace stepped into the living room, I froze, my chest seizing. The woman held some sort of handgun, something small enough for her to manage, but might
y enough to do some damage if need be.

“Relax, dear. Phil bought it for me in case someone tried to get frisky or break in while he was at work. You know those gas station owners work terrible hours.” Her advance was steady, even, as though she knew I was somewhat frightened by the weapon. “Take it.” She held the
firearm out towards me.

I had no idea what the older woman must have thought of me as my gaze traveled between her, the gun and the window. I gnawed my bottom lip, fretting about. On one hand, a weapon could help if things got bad. On the other, it might not, considering I didn’t know how to use one. I was kicking myself for not letting Ram teach me.

“Look.” She drew the metal back. “You just press this lever, aim and pull the trigger. It doesn’t matter if you miss. It should be enough to frighten the dickens out of the grimy bastards and give you a head start in your get away.”

I doubted it would scare the men I’d met, but the surprise of it might trip them up for a second or two, which, in a pinch, could be
the difference between life and death.

I blew out a
slow breath. I was doing this; this was really happening. I’d watched so many movies and TV shows, and in some twisted fantasy, I imagined myself as a bad ass rising above, kicking asses and taking names with the best of them.

Reality was a world away.

Instead, I was fairly certain my heart was going to pound out of my chest, my knees were going to give out and my stomach contents would end up on the ground. I was shaking so bad, I was afraid I’d accidentally set off the gun and injure anyone but the bad guys.

Losing her patience, Mrs. Horace grabbed my hand and pressed the butt of the weapon against my palm. “Now go. I don’t want to miss when they spin the wheel.” She brushed past me, back to her recliner. She sat down and focused on the television as though nothing had transpired. “Check in when you can, dear. I’ll watch your door until you get back.”

A slew of thoughts, responses, rushed my mind; the cold metal seemed to weigh down my hand and slow down my reaction time. I still didn’t know what to make of the senior citizen, but I was grateful for her. “Thank you, Mrs. Horace. Be careful, please.”

She laughed, probably amused that her neighbor was waving around a gun she didn’t know how to work, yet was telling her to be careful. Could
n’t say I blamed her.

Chapter Five

Five Years A
go …

Miami, Florida

Aeren

“Rahmi Çevik.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze across the table. Our food had yet to arrive, leaving nothing but Cuban bread and silverware between us. “What does that mean?”

He chuckled
, his eyes lighting with amusement. “That is my name. Rahmi Çevik. Now, I ask, what does that tell you about me?”

I considered him.
He wore the same clothes as earlier with the addition of a tie. I didn’t know how he’d managed to locate me, but when I opened my hotel door at six, there he stood, leaning against the doorframe. I knew I ought to be uneasy, overly cautious, yet I found myself enchanted, relaxing into his company.

Conversation was easy with him. He was smart, witty, and enticing. He kept me on my toes, required me to think when I was around him, yet he didn’t treat me as less than, stupid or witless when I couldn’t round up a response.

“It tells me that at least one of your parents is from Eastern Europe,” I said. I knew the point he was attempting to make; yet I couldn’t let go of the importance of a name.

He leaned in, slightly bending into the table as he held my stare.
“Or it could be a rouse to make you believe that I was born to them. My point,
aşkım
, is that a name does not tell you who a person is. Having a Turkish surname does not tell you whether I am good or evil, whether I am honest or a filthy liar.”

“No, but it tells me something. Your claim was that a name tells you nothing about who a person is. You just proved my point.” I giggled, feeling my cheeks plump up as I smiled.

He sat back in his seat, his lips pursing
ever so slightly. He turned his palm up and moved his hand in a gesture of capitulation. “In that sense, I suppose you are correct.”

“How did you find me tonight?”
I blurted the question without thinking. Once it was out, though, I knew I wanted the answer.

He studied me,
waiting until I began to fidget, or perhaps he was waiting to see if I would retract the question.

I straightened in my true blue maxi dress, threading my fingers together in my lap. I’d accessorized with the only jewelry I’d brought with me: a yellow gold necklace with an anchor charm, a matching ring, and simple stud earrings. Patent nude peep-toe flats and a silver, gold and white clutch with an oversized geometric pattern rounded out my ensemble. I hadn’t anticipated going on a date, further proving that
I never expected a daydream to become reality, despite all my wishing.

Reaching inside his coat pocket, he pulled out
a Blackberry. After pressing a few buttons, he flipped the screen towards me. “I took a photo of you outside. Your room number is what twenty-dollars will buy in a city full of underpaid illegals.” His tone changed near the end, eliciting chills.

I was stupefied, horrified, by the photo. My
shoulder-length hair did nothing to detract from my double chin or the fact that my breasts weren’t as perky as I’d have liked them to be. One knee was bent, giving my stomach more unsightly rolls than I could ever hope a sarong would cover. About the only positives were my legs were hairless and my no-chip manicure was flawless.

Logically, had I been thinking logically, I should have been angry that my safety could be bought for so little. Further, I should have been horrified by the fact that he took a photo without my knowledge, not by the
details of the photo itself.

Yet I wasn’t.

“Can I trust you, Rahmi Çevik?”

His features turned down for one brief flash before he neutralized his expression. “
If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already.”

I worked my bottom lip, irritation making its way to my surface. “Do you trust me, then?”

His lips curled into a charming grin. He ripped off a piece of bread. “With my life.” He took a hearty bite out of the carb, watching me, almost as if he was suddenly amused by me, or perhaps he amused himself. Methodically he chewed and swallowed. “Eat. If I wanted to dine alone, I would not have invited you.”

I cut my eyes at him. “I must have missed the invitation. I was under the assumption I had no choice.”

“One always has a choice.” He winked, breaking off a chunk of bread and handing it to me.

Chapter Six

Present Day

Aeren

Adrenaline pumped through me, increasing my pulse, matching the rapid cadence of my heartbeat.
“Lock the door behind me,” I instructed.

“Yes, dear.” Mrs. Horace flicked her wrist, shooing me. She was back to feigning naïve and elderly.

Thunder rumbled outside again, further unnerving me. At the door, I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
I can do this.

Moving the chair
, I unlocked and cracked the door before peeking out. Not catching any sounds or movements, I cautiously slipped out, shutting Mrs. Horace’s door behind me. The gun suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds between my rapidly sweating palms. I edged along the wall towards the stairs, thinking it was the safer option. You were more likely to be cornered in an elevator, right?

My stomach was
taut, dread knotting my gut a thousand times over. My ears rang as my pulse pounded in my head, or was that my heartbeat? Fretting, I continually scanned my surroundings, fighting my nerves, my overactive imagination depicting the men popping out of every shadow and from around every corner.

Arriving at the door to the stairs, I checked behind me one last time before pushing the door ajar. Glancing through the slit, I tried to listen for them above my overwrought senses to no avail. I was too worked up, though, the gun shaking in my hand
s. I had to make a run for it. There was no other way.

Adjusting my grip on the butt of the weapon, I shoved the door open the rest of the way and made a mad dash down the steps. Heart racing, limbs shaking, I was lucky I didn’t stumble. It felt like my knees were going to give out on any step. My flesh prickled with awareness, with feeling and numbness at once. I was present, going through the motions, yet a part of me was in arrears, still trying to process it all.

Overzealously, having over-hyped myself going down the seven flights of stairs, I barged out the door to the lobby and immediately drew the attention of two of my visitors from earlier.

Shit!

I knew my eyes widened as they raced towards me.

Panicking, heart tripling in speed it felt, I ran to the back exit, leading to the parking garage
, where I had parked my car on the third floor.
Shit, shit, shit!

Not stopping, I burst through the door to the parking facility. Humidity blanketed me. Rain surrounded the concrete structure, beating the ground loudly. I made a beeline for the cars; figuring bobbing between them was the slowest, but safest, route.

Their heavy footsteps echoed behind me, taunting me to run faster. I abruptly wished I’d been one of those fat girls who did 5k’s to prove she could, that not all of us were lazy; at least then I would have had more practice. As it was, I was panting, the moisture in the air making it more difficult to catch my breath. My head pounded in time with my feet, and I prayed between each beat: prayed I didn’t trip.
Please don’t let me fall.

A shot boomed, echoing around me. I shrieked, ducking at the same moment glass shattered. They’d just upped the ante.

I rounded the corner to the second floor, racing as fast as my thunder thighs could to the opposite line of cars. It took me a minute to hear the silence over my pounding heart. Chancing a look back, I saw they weren’t there. Either there absence was a blessing or a dangerous omen.

I nearly broke out in hallelujahs when I reached my car. Jerking the keys free from the wristlet, I unlocked it. The second I was able
to, I dove inside the vehicle, tossing my bag and the gun on the passenger seat.

It took four attempts to get the key into the ignition I was trembling so badly. I put my car in gear and peeled out. Upon arriving at the first corner, it dawned on me why they might have stopped: there was only one way out of the parking structure, meaning they could ambush me easier than chase me.

My stomach clamped as anticipation overwhelmed my chest. There was only one way out, one way to get to Ram: I had to go through them.

Stopping the vehicle abruptly, I leaned my seat back a bit, moving my body away from the target line should they open fire from the side. I took a deep breath and slammed down on the gas pedal, my tires squealing, announcing my
upcoming arrival.

I swore my heart was going to burst through my chest as I narrowly missed hitting a car on the final turn. As soon as I came around the final bend, fully visible, the shots fired in rapid succession.

I pushed the pedal as close to the floor as possible, sliding down further in my seat. My heart skipped a beat, a scream belting from me, my lungs then seizing as the passenger window shattered.