Chapter 32 Chapter 32 The Blow Up
I wipe my tears and run upstairs, packing all my clothes back into my suitcase. I am not going to change. I am not showering. Kostas watches me from the doorway.
"Where are you going to go? Wait until the morning—I can take you to the airport, if you want," he says softly.
"My cousin is coming to get me. My hometown is three hours away." I look at my phone. "He should be here in the next thirty minutes or so. There is no way I am staying here any longer than I have to."
I walk past Kostas and go into the bathroom, picking up all my things. I fit it all in and zip up my suitcase.
"Let me help!" Kostas grabs my suitcase.
I let him carry it down for me. Daphne and Athena are having tea in the living room. They see me and Kostas and immediately ask what is wrong and what is happening. I can’t even tell them. Kostas tells them what George and Tommy talked about while we were at the beach.
"I can speak Greek!" I say in Greek for the first time since I met Athena.
They both cover their mouths. "I am sorry, I should have said something earlier. Thank you for bringing me. My cousin is coming to pick me up, and I will get my own way home. There is just no way I can stay here."
There is nothing more I can say. His mom apologizes to me. She wishes me well and asks me to please let her know when I get home. Taking the handle of my suitcase from Kostas, I pull it out of the house. I barely get a chance to sit down on the suitcase before a black Bentley pulls up in the driveway.
A big guy comes out in a dark gray suit. Neck tattoos. He has a pinky ring with a crest on it.
"Elena?" he asks.
"Yes! Where is Stanislav?" I ask in Bulgarian.
"He sent me to get you!"
He grabs my suitcase and pops the trunk open. George and Tommy walk out of his parents’ place, and his eyes meet mine. He looks at me, confused.
"Where are you going? What’s wrong? Why are you leaving?"
"Fuck you!"
He turns and looks at Kostas. "You told her? Asshole!"
"Kostas did not tell me anything!!! I speak Greek, you piece of shit!" I say in Greek.
"You sat there and let me talk myself into a hole?" he asks in English. "It’s not… it’s not…!"
"Spit it out, motherfucker!"
George turns red, his fingers curling into fists. "Come on, Elle, don’t leave! We can work this out."
A sinister laugh escapes my throat. "Work out what exactly? Who you are going to fuck first—me or Zoe??? You were a good rebound. Now we are done."
He grabs my wrist to stop me. The big guy my cousin sent takes his jacket off and rolls up his dress shirt sleeves. More tattoos—and holy shit, he is packing. He pulls out a gun and rests it on the hood of his car while leaning back on the front fender.
"I highly recommend you let go of Elena, right fucking now!" he growls in English.
George lets my wrist loose one finger at a time, trying to hold me there. Putting his hands up, palms out, he backs away from me and starts to talk shit. He gets loud. I back away from him and exhale.
"You are not tall enough to talk to me in that tone of voice!"
Kostas, Tommy, and the big guy start laughing, only making George angrier. I walk away and toward the passenger side of the Bentley. The big guy runs around the car quickly to open the door for me. I look up at Kostas.
"In another life!" I blow him a kiss. "Hit me up if you visit the States!"
He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You are such a slut!" George snaps in anger.
"I don’t pretend to be anything else! I can’t say the same for you, pig!"
I slide into the car, and the door shuts, silencing any other words George is saying. The windows are tinted very dark. My body melts into the soft leather seat. The car smells like leather and citrus. The big guy opens his door, and George’s voice invades the space for a few seconds before the door shuts again. He tosses his jacket in the back seat. The top buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned—more tattoos. He must be covered. His car is nice and clean; I feel like I should have showered. I had the time—damn it.
The car purrs as he starts it up. German rap fills the empty space, and he reaches to turn it down. Then he peels out of the driveway.
"I am Ivan." His right elbow rests on the center console; he grips the steering wheel with his left hand.
"I am sorry, I must smell like sea. I should have showered!" I say, pulling at the hem of my dress.
Ivan looks me over. His jaw tightens, his nostrils flare.
"You smell good… like vanilla and coconut. It’s fine." He shifts in his seat. "Take a nap. I will wake you up when we get to the border." His voice is deep and velvety.
I must have dozed off because he wakes me, brushing his hand over my arm. "Elena, where is your passport?"
I grab my purse—it was resting at my feet. Sliding it up, my dress comes with it. Reaching in, I take my passport out and hand it to Ivan. His eyes are on my exposed thighs.
"Sorry!" I say as I cover up.
He grunts as he takes the passport from my hand. Border patrol walks around the car. The guy leans in, looks me over, then hands Ivan the passports back.
He almost tosses my passport back at me.
"I am sorry you had to drive all this way to pick me up!"
Ivan grabs my chin with his huge hand and turns my face toward him. "Stop fucking apologizing!"
The space between us shrinks. Goosebumps break out over my skin as he releases me.
"Stanislav is opening the new club, or he would have come. We are an hour away. Change your clothes." He motions to the back seat.
A clothing garment bag hangs from the window, and there is a box on the seat. He pulls the car over and steps out as I get into the back seat to change. A cute gold dress and black high heels later, I let my hair down. I get out of the car, and he opens the door for me again.
"Your sister handed me the clothes!"
"Helena is my half-sister!"
I can’t help but wonder who this guy is. Stanislav trusted him to come get me, so he must be okay. His black eyes meet mine, and my heart stops beating—he is so damn hot.