Read The Breakup Online

Authors: Brenda Grate

Tags: #Romance, #Travel, #Italy

The Breakup (5 page)

 

Stephen glared at the man. “Will you stop asking questions and just listen to me?”

 

The man nodded and closed his mouth.

 

“This is her name.” Stephen reached out to hand his vistor a piece of paper, but his head wobbled and his arm dropped. He looked down in befuddled surprise. It dawned on him that the medication was kicking in.

 

“Hurry up, take it. Finish her.” His head dropped back on his pillow and everything went hazy. He felt his visitor take the paper as he lost consciousness.

 

Chapter 8

Mia was up to her eyebrows in wedding invitation samples when Aja let herself into her apartment. She joined her friend on the couch and started leafing through samples without breaking stride. What else was the maid of honor for anyway, but to handle all the wedding details, along with the neurotic moods of the typical bride? Mia was anything but typical. She hated having to plan a wedding and wanted to elope to Vegas or somewhere exotic. Her fiancé, Brad, insisted that they do what their respective families wanted. Mia’s family was Italian, which meant a huge wedding with every single living relative invited. Brad’s family was old money, so that pretty much meant the same thing.

 

Mia sighed and tossed a flowery invitation onto the floor. “Aja, will you elope with me?”

 

Aja laughed, used to her dramatics. “Where to, baby?”

 

“How about Italy? I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. Don’t you have some family there?”

 

Aja gaped at Mia, then let out a laugh. “Of course! That’s what I need to do.”

 

“What? Elope?”

 

“No, that’s the last thing I need to do right now.” She wiped a hand across her face, reminded of how much she hated the male gender and anything resembling one at the moment.

 

Mia, grabbed Aja’s hand and pulled her into her arms. “I’m sorry. Here I am complaining about getting married when you’ve been through so much.”

 

“It’s okay, it helps me forget. I’m so mad at my family right now. My brothers are out somewhere, probably at the hospital beating up Stephen. They’re going to get themselves into trouble one day, and I’m tired of warning them.”

 

Mia snorted and then pretended she was coughing.

 

Aja raised one eyebrow at her friend. “And you can stop pretending you’re concerned.” Aja let out her breath and leaned back, tucking her legs underneath herself. “I’m tired of them thinking that beating people up is the answer to everything. You know, Mia, I just want to get away and live my life on my own terms for a while.”

 

“Well, you don’t live at home anymore, Aja. You can move back in with me until the wedding. Then you’ll have to find another roommate.” Mia looked a little sad at the thought.

 

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I don’t just want to live in a different house. I think I want to live in a different country. I love my family, don’t get me wrong, but I am so tired of them thinking I can’t take care of myself.”

 

“But they only do it because they love you, Aja.”

 

“I know that,” Aja said, frustrated that her friend couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. She was an only child, born to aging parents. Her parents doted on her, but she didn’t have to put up with meddling siblings.
 

 

Aja smiled at Mia and grabbed her hand. “I wish you weren’t getting married.” She laughed at Mia’s surprised expression. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you and Brad, but if you weren’t, we could go away on a trip together. We’ve always talked about it, but never gotten around to it.”

 

Mia sighed and squeezed Aja’s hand. “I know, I wish we could take a trip, too. If the wedding weren’t so close we could have one last fling.” Mia threw Aja’s hand up in the air to punctuate her point.

 

“Oh, Miakins, that would be a riot.” Aja jumped to her feet. “Why don’t we do it? We can go away for a week, that’s not long, right?”

 

Mia smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I can’t get away. First of all my Mom would kill me, then Brad would kill me, and then probably Papa…”

 

“Okay.” Aja laughed, putting her hands up as if to shield herself. “I get it.” She dropped onto the couch and winced, putting a hand on her hip, prodding a bruise she hadn’t known was there.

 

Mia shook her head. “I wish I could get a piece of Stephen myself. He wouldn’t be languishing in a hospital. He’d be cooling his heels in the morgue.”

 

“Enough about Stephen; I think I’ve heard more about him in the last several days than in the year I dated him.” Aja stopped talking as a daring idea hit her. Why not go alone? She had never been on a trip on her own, but the thought excited her. Where would she go?
 

 

“Mia? Where have you always wanted to go but haven’t gone yet?”

 

“Italy,” Mia said without hesitation.

 

“Hmmm, Italy. It’s warm, sunny, has good food and is very, very far away. I like it.”

 

“Not to mention the guys are hot tamales.”

 

“Aren’t you thinking of Mexico?” Aja laughed.

 

“No, I’m thinking Italian.” Mia’s head shot up. “Wait! You’re thinking of going to Italy on your own?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Why not?” Mia stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why not?”

 

“Um, you already said that. Come to think of it, so did I.”

 

“I’m repeating myself because I don’t think my ears are working right. What happened to ‘let’s go together’?”

 

“Well, Brad happened. Besides, I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

 

Mia slowly examined every inch of Aja’s five foot frame. “Really?”

 

“Ha ha. I didn’t mean physically. But, really, Mia.” Aja sat up, excited. “Wouldn’t it be great to get away for a while? I could stay away until I have to come back for court. Maybe it won’t even happen; I’m sure Daddy will bribe him or something.”

 

Mia pursed her lips as she always did when she was worried. “I don’t know, Aja. It’s really far away from your family.”

 

“That’s precisely the point, my dear friend. Precisely.”

 

Chapter 9

It was late when Aja left Mia’s apartment. They’d spent the last hour arguing about whether Aja should go to Italy alone or not. At the end Mia was nearly ready to forsake her fiancé and follow her friend to keep her safe. Aja talked her out of it, convincing Mia it would be good for her to go alone. She then forced Mia to promise not to tell her family or anyone else where she was going. Mia promised after Aja swore to call them once she arrived in Italy so they wouldn’t worry.

 

She held open the apartment building’s heavy glass door as she stepped out, smiling at Mia’s mother-hen protectiveness. What was it that caused everyone around her to feel she needed to be taken care of?

 

She headed for her car, then stopped dead. She had a prickling feeling on the back of her neck. Her heart started to race. She opened her purse and fumbled for her keys, trying to appear calm. She knew someone was watching her. She hoped it was just her imagination telling her that she was in danger.

 

She palmed her keys, poking one through her fingers like a little dagger.

 

Yah, like that’s going to do any good. I’d be on the ground before I could get it anywhere near an attacker’s eyes.

 

Aja swallowed and walked a little faster, trying not to look like she was hurrying. Her car was just ahead. She rushed to it, scrambling to push her key in the lock and cursing herself for not letting her father buy her a new car with keyless entry when he’d offered earlier that year. The lock clicked open and she nearly tore the door off its hinges.

 

When she was safely inside, she locked the door and took a deep breath. She let out a relieved giggle, cursing herself for being so stupid. She reached for her seat belt and let out a shriek when a face appeared in her rearview mirror.

 

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice deep and menacing.

 

She froze, complying with an alacrity she despised.

 

“Put your hands on the steering wheel, but move slowly. Any quick movements and you’re dead.”

 

Aja lifted her hands off her lap and placed them on the steering wheel as her mind flew in all directions. She had no idea who this man was. She hoped he only wanted to rob her. How he got into her locked car was a mystery. She wanted to live long enough for her father to say, “I told you to get a new car.”

 

“What do you want?” she whispered, fear constricting her throat so that her voice came out in a harsh croak.

 

“No speaking,” he shouted.

 

Aja jumped. Sweat broke out all over her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting him to strike her.

 

“Start the car and drive slow. I’ll give you directions. Do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you in the back.”

 

Aja didn’t know if she would be able to drive at all. She considered trying to roll out of the car before he had time to shoot.
Stupid risk
, she thought and reached for the ignition.

 

“Slowly,” came the warning again.

 

Aja shuddered, fear chasing icy paths up and down her spine. Her skin crawled with the anticipation of a bullet in the back.

 

Aja hesitated when she put the car into reverse, not wanting to turn and meet his eyes.

 

He seemed to understand because he said, “Just back up until I say stop.”

 

She backed the car up with her eyes closed and stopped when he told her to. She pulled out of the parking lot and wondered if she would ever see Mia again. Aja hoped her friend wouldn’t think she’d left for Italy without saying goodbye. She would tell Aja’s family where she’d gone and they wouldn’t think to search for her. A lump formed in her throat and she fought rising hysteria. The silence from the man behind her just made it worse. If he’d threatened her and screamed, been violent, it would’ve been easier to deal with than his silence. It was somehow more threatening. Aja suddenly knew why. Because he seemed like a professional. At that thought, Aja felt her stomach heave.
I’m going to die.

 

“Turn left,” the voice commanded.
 

 

She followed his directions and soon realized he was taking her to an industrial area. Her fears were confirmed. Aja’s mind raced with ideas of escape, of heroism - all things she’d seen in movies. She rejected every one of them as being too risky. Her phone was in her purse on the seat beside her, but there was no way to reach for it without him seeing. She couldn’t flash her lights or signal anyone. Her old car wasn’t equipped with GPS so they wouldn’t be able to find her when she didn’t come home. She was doomed.

 

They turned into an old cement factory’s parking lot. Aja’s shaking intensified. Her hands went slick on the steering wheel. He instructed her to park at the far edge of the lot, in the darkest corner.

 

“Turn off the car,” he barked. She complied.

 

Aja swallowed convulsively as she tried not to throw up.

 

The man got out of the car and pulled her door open. Her muscles tightened, ready to flee, then she saw the black barrel of the gun pointed at her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the blast.

 

“Get out.”

 

Oh, God, no. Just shoot me, don’t rape me.
She wanted to scream at him, plead for her life, but her lips wouldn’t work; her throat was so tight, breathing was almost impossible.

 

Impatient, the man grabbed Aja’s arm and yanked her out of the car. Her legs wouldn’t hold her and she slumped, nearly falling back into the seat.

 

“Stand up,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less threatening.

 

Aja forced herself to stand, still not looking at him. She held onto an absurd hope that if she didn’t look into his face, she would somehow walk away with her life.

 

“Look at me,” he said.

 

“Please, no,” Aja whispered. “I don’t want to see your face.”

 

He took her face in his hand and forced her chin up. “Look at me,” he said again and Aja opened her eyes.

 

She still couldn’t see him well because her eyes were blurry with tears. When they overflowed and dripped down her cheeks, she saw with astonishment that he was staring at her with what looked like tenderness.

 

He still held the gun, but it was pointing down at the ground. His hand gripped her face, but it wasn’t painful - it was almost caressing. Aja looked into his eyes, confused.

 

His head was shaved. He had pale blue eyes and blond eyelashes, which gave him a startled look. His lip had a ring through it and he wore a black leather jacket. Yet, Aja was no longer afraid. It was the look in his eyes, like he felt bad for scaring her.

 

He dropped his hand. “You’re just a tiny thing. How did you do it?” he asked and then he laughed.

 

Aja shook her head, feeling like she’d just gone down the rabbit hole and ended up in another dimension - either that or Mia had slipped something in her drink and she was hallucinating.

 

“Do what?” she whispered.

 

He laughed and dropped his hand. “Go on. I’m sorry for scaring you, but I had to make it look like I tried. He might have someone else watching me.”

 

Aja stared at him. “You mean… Stephen sent you after me? That’s what you mean, right?”

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