Zola Flash (The Zola Flash Series Book 1) (10 page)

A FEW HOURS LATER, we arrive in Paris, France. It took a lot of annoying ‘please tell me where we’re going’s to get Trevor to budge. As soon as the location left his mouth, I was looking it up on my smartphone he bought me.

In the pictures, there were beautiful lights everywhere. Every building seemed to be adorned in them. And there was a tower that looked like an ‘A’, all lit up, as well as tons of green landscapes, and little boats on the water, with couples canoodling.

Now that I’m here, thought, I know never to trust Earth’s source of information. There are no sparkling lights. No little boats. Although, there is a tower, it’s not lit up. It’s just really tall and grey and dull.

Once our transportation arrives, Trevor gives the driver orders to take Britney and Pin wherever they like. It’s not exactly what I meant when I asked for them to come along, but I stay quiet. Trevor and I get into a separate vehicle and take off to a restaurant, where Trevor says he has made exclusive reservations. As we pull up outside, I notice the restaurant is a small alfresco on a strip. Not exactly somewhere I can picture Trevor taking a date, but what do I know? It’s not like I’ve known Trevor for long.

He takes my hand and leads me into the restaurant, and I gasp at the decor. The brick exterior gives the place no justice. There are candles everywhere, giving off a soft vanilla scent. White rose petals are scattered across the reflective floor, which I’m sure Trevor made them do. But the crystal chandelier that reflects the lights from the candles is what really catches my eyes. They look like the steps in my dream. The ones that lead up to my palace. It’s beautiful.

I turn to Trevor. “Thank you.”

Trevor takes me into his arms and tips my chin up. “Well, this is my way of apologizing for being such a douche lately.”

“Okay.”

“This will be a night you’ll never forget, Zola. I promise you that.”

Something in his words doesn’t feel right, but I shake it off. “So, why did you reserve the entire place?”

“My girl deserves the best.”

We head toward the back of the place and out through a rear exit, where we take a seat near a fountain that is spewing with life. It’s as cold as Payohlini, yet as warm as planet Frizzlea out here. I scoot my chair towards Trevor and snuggle up against him. Thankfully, Earthlings tend to be quite warm.

When Pierre, the server arrives, I order water. Trevor, on the other hand, nearly orders the entire menu in French. I think he does that to impress me, but the fact that I have a chip implanted in my head, one that’s been there since birth, to enable me understand almost every language, means it doesn’t work. I don’t tell him that though. He doesn’t need to know that most of his words aren’t pronounced correctly.

As we wait for our food, Trevor drags me onto his lap and moves his head closer to mine as if to kiss me, but I really don’t want to kiss him.  Not when I’m supposed to break up with him. Though, how can’t I when he’s being sweet, and he apologized. He’s going to think I’m doing it for Pin. Granted, Pin is a part of why I don’t return Trevor’s feelings completely, but …

“Zola, if this—” Trevor beings, but I cut him off with my lips.

It doesn’t take a second for him to respond. He kisses me back, and his mouth tastes malty. He moves his lips down to my neck, and I tense up, but he continues nibbling my neck. Moving back to my lips, the kiss deepens. I’m just about to pull away when I hear a hard swallow.

“Um, excuse me, Mademoiselle . . .” Pierre says.

I pull away from Trevor. Pierre isn’t alone. He’s back with other garcons, holding the food. The others do not looks at us, but toward the floor, as they place the food on the table, after which, they walk away.

Pierre stalls, though, and looks directly at me. “Ami de cour.”
He is insincere.
Or rather his friendship is insincere. He points at Trevor. .  Pierre turns to Trevor. “It might not be my place to say, Sir, but she is a little young for pubic indecencies.”

Trevor stands up, knocking me off his lap in the process, and places a hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “You’re right. It’s not your place. You are just a server at my father’s restaurant. Nothing more. What we do, or don’t do, does not concern you. Think about providing for your family next time you open your month and talk to me.”

“Trevor!” I gape at him. That was completely uncaused for. You don’t threaten a person’s family.

Pierre looks at me with much sympathy in his eyes. “Dieu vougrade,” he says before he walks off.

I try to go after him, but Trevor grabs my forearm. I whirl on him, but all he does is roll his eyes. That’s the last straw. I’m done with him. All his apologies were nothing more than lies. He’s not a good person. And I’m not going to stand around and take his crap.

I yank my arm free of him and run inside to the kitchen. There are cooks and servers, but I don’t see Pierre. I taP on one of the server’s shoulder. “Où est Pierre?”

The server just shrugs his shoulders. I head back to where Trevor stands, ready to give him a good, long piece of my mind. Before I can speak a word, though, Trevor backhands me across the face, sending me tumbling to the ground. I move my fingers up to my cheek and cringe. He hit me. I can’t believe he struck me.

Trevor yanks me up from the ground. I try to pull away, but he takes hold again in an iron-like grip. He’s stronger than I expected. I didn’t realize just how strong people of Earth really are.

“Let me go!” I yell at him in near panic.

Trevor spins me into his chest and covers my mouth with his leathery-tasting hand. He must have had football practice before coming to me. He drags me out front to the vehicle we arrived in and roughly shoves me into the backseat.

Sitting there, I debate whether or not I should morph. Morphing can be dangerous, especially as neither Trevor nor the driver knows my true identity. Exposing them to that can put me and Pin in jeopardy.  Where the hell is Pin when I need him? Some guardian he is.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask Trevor as he takes the seat next to mine.

“To the hotel I reserved for us.” He smiles, but it isn’t a nice one. “At least one of us can still have a good time.”

WE TRAVEL MAINLY ON back roads that are not crowded with civilians. I don’t look or talk to Trevor. I suspected he was egotistic, but I didn’t think he would do something like this. Worst thing is, I’m positive he doesn’t even know he’s in the wrong.

When we make it to the hotel, which I may say is huge and empty-looking, I notice a young boy, most-likely the same age as Cleo, standing on the corner with a cup. He has short, black hair, and cuts and bruises all over the visible parts of his body, as if he has been beaten. The boy is fairly thin and looks to be starving— I can see his ribs sticking out through the torn, ragged shirt he wears. I wish there was something I can do to help.

Trevor comes around to my side of the vehicle and opens my door. He better be happy Earthlings invented child-locks, because, otherwise, I would have been gone. Reaching into the car, he seizes me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I’m actually surprise he can carry me.

I hit Trevor in the back of his head with my fist. He laughs, not that anything is funny. It should’ve hurt him, and I think the only reason it doesn’t is because he’s had too many footballs to the head.

“That only makes me what you more, Princess,” he says.

Princess? Oh, gods, does he know?

He can’t know. He’s human. It’s just a statement.

“Put me down!” I demand.

“No.”

The hotel staff stand by and watch our entrance, without a word or attempt to assist me. Trevor’s father must own this establishment as well.

Once inside the suite, Trevor places me on a bed covered in white rose petals. I watch as he paces around the room before disappearing into what must be the bathroom.

I climb off the bed and creep to the suite’s door, but when I open it, a meaty, pale-looking man guards the outside. I see he has both a gun and Taser and as he turns to face me, my stomach churns. The man has the most hideous face. Red and blotchy. His eyes are too small for his round, meaty face.

I glance back at the bathroom door.  “Look, he’s crazy,” I whisper to the man. “You have to let me out of here!”

“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but Monsieur Smith gave an order to keep you contained within this room.” His voice is soft but squeaky.

“You don’t understand. He’s … he’s—”

The man pulls the Taser from his waist. “Mademoiselle, I don’t want to use this. But I will if I have to. Now back away.”

Oh, please. I can take him with my eyes close.

He turns away from me, and I slam the door. As I spin back to the room, I find Trevor standing there, and I back up against the door.

Trevor pulls me toward him, running his hand up and down my spine. I don’t speak. I don’t move. I don’t know how to fight Trevor without physically hurting him. Or revealing myself. Although, I don’t mind hurting him at the moment.

“This can be really nice for you. Or really rough.” Trevor sneers. “You pick, babe.”

I slap him, hard. “I don’t think Pin would approve of this.”

At the mention of Pin’s name, his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on me, and I realize hitting him probably wasn’t the wisest move in the moment.

Trevor seizes me, and I pull away, but trip over my own feet. Grabbing my arm, he drags me towards the bed.

Tears stream down my face as I struggle to get away from him. He throws me on the bed, and I try to stop the tears. I’m not a weak person. Weeping, due to him, makes me weak.

Trevor pins my hands up against the pillows, as I try to knee him. His hands tighten, and he narrows his eyes at me. He presses himself down on me. I grind my teeth and attempt to pull my hands from his grip, while he moves one of his hands down my body until he reaches the spaghetti strap of my dress.

This can’t be happening. He was supposed to be my friend. “Trevor, please, please don’t,” I sob.

Trevor doesn’t acknowledge my pleading.

“Trevor, stop. I don’t want to—”

“Of course not!” he interrupts me. “Even if you tried, you wouldn’t win either battle.”

Trevor slides from the bed and crosses the room, pulling me along with him.

I don’t fight him.

I also don’t restrain what I can feel happening to my body.

Trevor’s hands move to my zipper and tug it down. As the dress falls to the floor, Trevor stands there, his lips parted as his eyes widen.

Probably because I’ve done the one thing I’ve hoped I could avoid since he started acting like a jerk.

Trevor’s amorous expression morphs even further into one of terror. His mouth opens wider, as if to let out a scream, but I’m on him in a nanosecond in an effort to keep the burly guard at the door at bay. Growling, I grab Trevor’s mouth and squeeze, hard enough to hurt, but not to do damage.

“Zo . . . La.” His pleas push past my claws.

Who’s pleading now? I want to ask him.

My only purpose is to ensure that Trevor respects me, as I turn him around and shove him onto the floor. Trevor lies in a lump on the floor, like a doll.

Leaving him there, I go into the bathroom in tears and lock the door, where I slide down the barrier and clutch my stomach, as anger and panic and triumph consumes me.

This is not who I am. I am not this person. But he deserved it, yes? He won’t be treating me like that again. At least, I hope not.

Oh, gods, I just revealed what I am. Pin is going to go insane.

I silently weep into my hands.

Calm down, Zola.

Calm down.

I just have to scare Trevor into not telling anyone about this. That should be simple. He’s already scared.

I push up from the floor and dry my tears. In the mirror, I see that I am again myself.

I walk out of the bathroom and find Trevor still in unconscious. Keeping an eye on him, I pick up the dress off the floor and put it on.

A touch of my palm wakes Trevor from his shock state. “How are you feeling?” I ask. I know I shouldn’t care, but I’m not going to be cruel and coldhearted like him.

He doesn’t speak, as though disabled by his fear. When I move, he shudders and cringes, and I smile.

“Take me to Pin.”

“Fine. Just don’t hurt me,” he says with a miserable feebleness to his tone.

When he doesn’t move, I let out a fake growl. “Move!”

Trevor nearly trips as he scuttles to the door. He opens it and instructs the guard outside to take me wherever I need.

Rolling my eyes, I walk out of the suite. Though, I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I was able to protect myself without Pin.

I smile to myself as I dial Pin’s number. I can protect myself.

LAST NIGHT WAS THE first time, in a long time, that I slept without dreaming. After disturbing Pin’s date, we took Trevor’s jet back to New York. He insisted on staying in Paris and calling his dad, which was fine by me. Listening to Britney complain the entire seven hours was enough.

Not dreaming though is different than what I expected. There’s no tossing and turning. My world doesn’t feel so messed up, like it’s a tornado and I’m just standing in the eye, along for the ride. I feel safe knowing that things are about to change. Maybe for the better.

Getting up from my bed, I walk into Pin’s room. I neglected to tell him why I cut his and Britney dinner early last night. He actually looked kind of relieved that I did. Though, that could have just been me being presumptuous. But he wasted no time in taking Trevor’s jet and getting back to New York.

I glance around his room and notice what few items he’s packed in a small bag. Obviously, he wasn’t joking when he said he was leaving. I wish he wasn’t.

I sit on the edge of the bed and run my fingers through his hair. This is probably going to be the last time I feel that silky softness.

Moaning, he turns in his sleep without opening those gorgeous eyes, and I sigh.

He’s really leaving.

Back in my room, I find a piece of paper and begin to write. There are some things he really needs to know. What happened last night, for one. I know he will be angry, but I can’t let him go without him knowing everything. No matter how obvious most of them are. Pin needs to know that he means a lot to me, and that’s not going to change just because the Payohlini Guardians have called him back.

After reading over the note, I fold it and take a deep breath. Hopefully, this won’t anger him too much. 

There’s water running and his scent fills his room when I head back into there. Tiptoeing over to his bags, I place the letter under one of the many swords he owns. I have no idea how he got them, seeing as we were running for our lives and didn’t have time to grab anything. I run my fingers along the blade. I have no doubt that he knows how to use these expertly. He is a trained Guardian, after all.

“What’s that?”

I grab the letter and spin around to a very wet Pin. Water droplets run down his bare chest, each twitch of his muscles making them shimmer, and I immediately want to touch them.

Slowly moving away from Pin, I clutch the letter behind my back. Pin takes a step towards me, but I glance away from him, not wanting his male beauty to delude my feelings. I don’t want to be anywhere around him when he reads this letter. 

“What is that behind your back?” Pin asks, closing in on me.

“Do you mind putting a shirt on?” I bite down on my lip. Why are the Victian gods so cruel to me?

“I will. Once you give me that letter.”

“Letter?” I look back to him, feigning confusion. “What letter would that be?”

“The one you don’t want me reading, apparently.”

“It’s not yours. Trevor left it for me.”

“Really, Princess.”  He reaches behind my back and pries the letter out of my hand. Unfolding it, he sits on the bed.

I wish he wouldn’t read it while shirtless. I can literally feel the blush creep up my cheeks. Still, I watch him as he reads, his teeth grinding as his eyes scan from line to line. He must be reading about Trevor.

I move to the bed and sit down beside him. Pin balls up the paper and throws it across the room, and I gasp. I took the time to write down my feelings for this man, and he throws it away like it’s nothing. Seeing that is more painful than watching him kiss another girl. 

“I can explain,” I say.

“There is no need.”

No need?
“Yes, there is.” I pause. “I know I’m young. And you cannot commit yourself to me but—”

“This has nothing to do with your crazy fantasies towards me,” he cuts in. “I’m upset because you allowed yourself to be placed in a dangerous situation. What you did is understandable, but unacceptable.”

“I couldn’t let him do what he had in mind. I could not help but try to fight him. I just scared him. Nothing more.”

Tears roll down my face. I can’t believe he just insinuated I should have let Trevor use me like that. Wiping the dampness away, Pin pulls me into an embrace. Like a full-on, lap-straddling embrace. One of his hands rubs my back in a soothing motion, while the other just holds me close. Relaxing into him, I get a strong whiff of him, and I push away.

This is too much, and Pin doesn’t have a shirt on. The closeness isn’t helping, either.

As if interpreting my expression, he grabs the silk shirt he wore the night before and throws it on over his bulging biceps. Pin’s face shows his anger, loud and clear. It stings to think I’m the cost of his discomfort. “Princess, I know you don’t want Trevor hurt, but when I think about his hands on you, your feelings are the least of my concerns.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s quite simple to understand. Trevor. Will. Pay.”

Before I can respond, to tell him that Trevor has paid enough with his fear, Pin leaps from the bed and storms out of the room.

***

The time is exactly 4:16 A.M. Pin has been gone for almost six hours. I pace back and forth across the living room floor, waiting for him to come home. I cannot believe he is going to kill Trevor. He’s the one who said I should have gone through with what the jerk wanted. He’s the one who said we can’t do anything to draw any attention to ourselves.

I’m pretty certain people will notice if one of the richest boys in New York comes up missing.

I should have never written about Trevor in that stupid letter. What was I thinking?

A knock on the door interrupts my pacing. My body stills, and I turn toward the door. What if it’s Trevor? What if he had the courage to come here?

I move towards the door, and with shaky hands, open it.

Pin stands there, and he smells horrid. His silk skirt is ruined, and there are numerous cuts and bloodstains on him. Though, I can’t tell if the blood is his, or not.

Topping off his look, his perfect cat eyes are bloodshot red.

As if too weak to hold himself up any longer, Pin collapses into my arms. I pull Pin in and shut the door before dragging him over to the couch, where he let out a huff of a breath full of a vile, horrid smell.

I run to the bathroom and start a shower for him. Hopefully, cleansing his body will rid it of the odor.

Returning to the living room, I find Pin drinking from a flat silver container. I take it from him and sniff. It doesn’t really have a smell. Pushing up, Pin reaches for the container, but I march swiftly into the kitchen and pour the liquid down the sink’s drain. Pin follows and grabs my hand, trying to stop the release of the vile fluid. I struggle to remove his hand away, but don’t quite succeed. He takes the bottle back to his mouth and gulps down the remaining liquid before falling to the floor, landing headfirst.

I can only stare at him. I have no clue what to do in a situation like this.

Carmen from school comes to mind. She’s a smart girl. She has to know what to do. I grab the phone and quickly dial her number. The phone rings and rings and rings. Finally, someone picks up.

“Carmen?” I cry urgently.

“Who is this?” she ask sleepily.

“Zola.” There’s a moment of silence. “Are you still there?”

Stupid earth phones.

“Do you have any clue what time it is? We have school in a couple of hours, and you’re calling me at five in the morning!”

“I know, but I need your help.”