* * *
“Can I drive?”Without waiting for an answer, Melanie slid into the driver side, her hand reaching out for the keys.
Shrugging, I tossed them to her, my feet already taking me around the other side. It was then that I saw Pope. He was halfway up the street, his scowl obvious even from the distance that separated us.
“Pope?” I called as I heaved myself upwards. Even as I watched, he kicked the front bike tyre once and then twice before repeating the action on the rear tyre.
“What’s wrong?”
His face turned towards me. “Tyres are flat. I’m going to get someone to come and take over for me so you ladies can have your…”
His words were cut off as Melanie leant over and shut the passenger side door. Frowning, I turned to her.
“What the hell, Melanie?”
She didn’t answer me at first. Instead, she poked her head through the window. “You can get whoever to catch up with us. We are going to that little Italian place off main. I saw it when I drove in…”
“What - wait...”
Pope’s words were drowned out as she peeled off, laughing the whole time.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” I couldn't help but smile though. It felt kind of rebellious, and I’d always had a rebellious streak in me.
“Oh come on, we don’t need a bodyguard just to go out for lunch. What’s the worst that could happen?” She turned her attention back to the road, and it gave me a chance to study her. She was beautiful, in that city-living professional type of way. She kind of reminded me of myself back in the day, but for the second time since we’d met, I thought there was also something oddly familiar about her. Her upturned nose, the sharp cheekbones.
She looked like someone I knew. It niggled at me. But I couldn't place it.
“Have we met before? I mean back when I lived in the city?” I finally blurted out.
“No.” She didn’t even look at me. “But I grew up seeing pictures of you.”
The iciness in her voice took me aback. Something wasn’t right.
“I think maybe we should stop and wait for Pope or whoever...”
“No.” Her words were cold, deadly and lacked any kind of human emotion.
Where the hell had my father’s sweet assistant gone?
“We are going to have some girly time together finally, Daniella.”
My head snapped around at her use of my real name. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t quick enough to defend myself. Her fist smashed into my eye socket and sent my head slamming against the window.
One small hand curled into my hair, and she viciously smacked my head against the glass. Once. Twice.
On the third time, with blood dripping into my eyes, I mercifully blacked out.
31
Fang
Giovanni was no longer a boy,that much was perfectly clear. He was a man, a young man, but a man nonetheless. It wasn’t just the width of his shoulders, it was something in the way he held himself. The sure, confident way he spoke.
Gio was no longer a boy playing a man's game, he was cool, calm and confident without being too cocky.
He also supplied me with fifty-year-old scotch, so that was a point in his favour.
It was all very dignified, something his family hadn’t shown in years.
