Page 11 of Precious Hazard

I make it through that gauntlet and even manage not to miss my exit, but now’s when the real fun starts. The closer I get to the club, the more congested the streets get, and I need to concentrate so I don’t run over any idiotic pedestrians who cross the road wherever they fucking feel like it or hit the bike couriers who whiz dangerously close between the cars. With the traffic light changing to green, I’m about to make a left turn when a pickup, coming the other way, blows through his red. I slam myfoot on the brake in the middle of the intersection. Mad honking explodes behind me.

“Fine. Fine.” I wave at the jerk riding my bumper and step on the gas. Old Betsy gives a little sputter, and the engine dies.

Fuck!

I turn the key again and again, getting nothing but rapid clicking in response. The blasts of horns continue from all sides, echoed by the furious screaming from the asshole behind me sticking his head out of his window. A common enough scene in New York, and it shouldn’t bother me, but my shoulders tense with every honk, every curse word lofted at me. Each blast underscores just how incompetent I am.

My anxiety ratchets up. I picture other drivers leaving their cars, or marching up to mine and shouting every obscenity on earth at me. By the time my car finally starts, sweat beads along my hairline, and my hands tremble.

Taking deep breaths usually helps to calm me down, but as I cruise down the street, the nerves don’t leave me. Adrenaline is running rampant in my veins. I’m still about ten minutes from Naos, but I can’t keep my focus on the road.

My fingers flex around the vinyl of the steering wheel, and I turn onto the nearest side street, belatedly realizing the road is closed up ahead due to construction. Whatever. Works for me since it appears to be completely deserted at this hour. As soon as I see it, I pull into what seems to be a dead-end, narrow alley. On my right there’s a building that’s clearly undergoing some renos. Big tarps cover half of its facade. On my left is a three-level public garage, but it too is closed and utterly empty. In the distance, I can still hear the hum of traffic, the ever-present noise of the city. But all around me is a peaceful, calm night.

Just what I need to get myself under control.

I park and step outside, leaning against the car door for stability. My limbs feel weak and unsteady while my chest remains tight, with rapid puffs escaping my lungs. The chilly air helps, though. I take a deep, slow breath, trying to visualize a serene environment. A green field. Wildflowers. The cheerful chirping of birds.

I exhale a shaky breath. Nope. It’s not working. I need something else.

Instead of soothing images, my mind conjures up Arturo DeVille’s angry eyes from two nights ago, glaring at me over the rim of his flute of champagne. As pissed off as I was at him that night, I loved seeing the usually uptight prick lose a bit of his composure. I saw his superiority slip off him like an ill-fitted mask. It gave me perverse satisfaction to ruffle the devil’s scales.

Jelena told me he’s been at Naos the last two evenings. He likely returned, intending to press the moronic marriage deal again. The man must not understand the meaning of “fuck off.” I’m almost sorry I agreed to switch shifts with Jelena, working the afternoons instead. I would have loved to wipe that smug grin off DeVille’s annoyingly handsome face by once more telling him how he can stick Ajello’s brilliant idea up his own ass. It might’ve been the last time I could’ve seen those pretty features unmarred because, when my brother gets back, he will surely beat the shit out of him for even suggesting this dumb plan.

A tiny smile pulls at my lips. Imagining the demise of Arturo DeVille is proving more therapeutic than the calm influence of singing birds. All of a sudden, it’s way easier for me to breathe.

Feeling better, I turn to get back into my car, but a bruising hand wraps around my arm and pulls me away.

“You bitch!” an angry male voice booms into the night.

“Stavros?” I cry out. “What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“You thought you could get away from me, yeah?” My ex shakes me, his fingers and the band of his ugly seal ring digging into my skin. “Make a fool out of me? Tell your bouncer buddies to throw me out like I’m some sorta trash? And then you send me your stupid little breakup text today?”

“Stavros! You’re hurting me!” I try to shrug off his hold, but he plants his other palm on the side of my car, caging me with his body.

“I waited for you to get back from the restroom for almost an hour,” he barks, squeezing my upper arm hard enough to make me wince. His face is red now, and the look in his eyes is homicidal. “Every damn server at that place was snickering behind my back! I’ve never been more humiliated in my life!”

I shove on his chest while trying not to panic. The bastard must have followed me here. Dread pools in the pit of my stomach. A minute ago, I thought this quiet location was my salvation; now it’s become the site of my latest, and maybe biggest, mistake. There isn’t a soul in sight. No chance of anyone venturing this way or helping me.

Damn it, I should’ve listened to Drago! He ordered me to break up with Stavros when he found out I was dating this moron, but I told my brother to fuck off and to stop butting into my personal life.

Another mistake.

Big mistake!

“I’m sorry!” I shout, trying to placate the quickly unraveling man before me.

“You should be very sorry, you fucking bitch! My father is friends with the owner of that restaurant, and now everyone knows how some stupid cunt dumped me without a word.”

Pain explodes in my head as his palm connects with my cheek. The entire side of my face feels as if it’s on fire. My fists fly up, pounding on Stavros’s front, while hot tears well in my tightly closed eyes.

“You think you’re something special?” he snarls. “Better than me? You think you can make—”

A muted bang bursts into the air just as something splashes my face.

My body goes completely still. A moment later, I realize I’m no longer being pinned against the car. My arm feels like it weighs a ton as I lift my hand to wipe my eyes. Slowly cracking my lids, I focus on my trembling fingers.

They are covered in blood.

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