Chapter 4: Audrey With The Gorgeous Red Hair.

Xavier.

It's a bright and chirpy morning when I finally stir awake. I groan in discomfort as light filters in through the window, and my hammering head makes me feel shitty.

The call with my therapist went well, I think—and I had to use my meds before going back to sleep after the call.

I guess I was too exhausted from the journey, and that was why I forgot to use my meds before falling asleep the first time. Hence, the dreadful nightmare. 

My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten anything apart from the burger I had eaten yesterday afternoon, while on the road. 

Dragging my tired body off the bed, I head to the shower. 

A few minutes later, I'm in my Porsche heading towards the town. There should be a nice breakfast diner around. 

It's been three years since I last came here and things have really changed. The breakfast diner I visited then has been turned into a club.

I spot the Golden Bar on my way and my mind wanders to the bartender I met with yesterday. 

I should apologize for my behavior. I was harsh towards her and even though I don't understand why she was protecting the prick, she didn't deserve to be treated the way I did. 

But as I turn off the car engine in the parking lot and make my way to the entrance, I realize that the bar is not yet open. Guess it's only open at night. 

I strut back to the car to get going but then my phone rings. It's Carla, my assistant. 

“Hello, Mr. Kingston.”

I sigh at the formal greeting. That's our inside joke. It means that she's calling about someone I would not want to see but the person is both arrogant and powerful enough for her to make the call. 

“Who is it?” I ask, not bothering to return her greeting. The fact that she called me Mr. Kingston means that my day is ruined already.

“Miss. Isabella Sylvester came here this morning and demanded to see you. Her exact words,” she explains. 

“Shit, can everyone just take a fucking break?” I run my hand through my hair as I take deep breaths the way my therapist taught me.

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I told her that you went on a business trip but she looked skeptical and I doubt she believed me.”

“Of course, she doesn't. I wouldn't be surprised if she has my whole itinerary. She's that creepy.”

Carla sighs on the other end but continues, “I just wanted to let you know, in case she reports this to your father. You two were supposed to have lunch together, and you know how she gets when things don't go her way.”

“Yeah I do. Thanks for informing me about it, Carla.”

I hang up and run my fingers through my hair. Seems like my problems are already catching up to me. 

I turn to get into my car but my eyes catch a movement by the side of the building. 

“Who's there?” I call out, but there's no answer. I stride to the side of the building and peer but I don't see anyone. 

Shaking my head, I go back to my car. I'm absolutely sure I saw someone peeking at me. 

My stomach growls again and I get into my car. Time to look for food. 

Reversing the car in the parking lot, I see a flash of red again but this time, it's coming from the other side of the building. 

Immediately, I jump out of the car and run after the person. 

“Wait, I'm not going to hurt you,” I yell. 

I make it to the side of the building to see the bartender from yesterday. She's stopped running and her head is bowed, her red hair obscuring her face from view. 

“Hey, are you alright?” I ask as I slowly advance towards her, not wanting to spook her into running again.

She raises her head to look at me and I see the bruises on her face. 

“What the hell did he do to you after I left?” By now, I'm already at her side. I use a finger to tilt her head up and she holds my gaze.

I wasn't lying last night when I said her eyes were deadly, but I think I used it in the wrong context. They are drop dead gorgeous.

I move my gaze to the side of face where an ugly bruise stares back at me. Her lips are also split on one side, and let's not even mention the bags under her eyes.

“What happened?” I can feel anger pouring out of me. She bites her lips and stares at the ground as if contemplating her reply.

“You happened,” she finally replies in a quiet voice.

“What?” I move back one step. “I don't understand.”

“I told you to leave him alone last night. I pleaded with you, but you just had to make matters worse.” There are tears in her eyes.

I clench my fist. I only wanted to help. “What did he do to you?”

She looks resigned as she sighs. “It doesn't matter. I'm fine but I could use some help.”

“Sure. Anything you want.”

My mind is racing at this point. If she asks me to help her kill him, I will definitely do it. 

“Thing is I'm hungry, but I can't go into town like this. It would raise too many questions.”

That's it? I feel disappointed but I don't let it show. Instead, I nod.

“Well, we can go get breakfast together. You wouldn't have to answer any question,” I reassure her. 

“No you don't understand,” she meets my gaze, “it's not about the questions. I don't want anyone to see me like this.”

The vulnerability in her gaze pulls me in and as much as I want her to tell me exactly what happened, I decide to let it slide. 

“Okay. Why don't we do this? I have a little problem myself, and I could use your help.”

She raises her brows at me and I can see the moment her walls come up. 

She tries to move back but I reach out to grab her forearm.

“Listen to what I have to say first.”

“Alright,” she says warily.

“Okay. I'm looking for a breakfast diner and I think I'm a little lost. So you'll come with me, give me directions and stay in the car while I get food for the both of us,” I finish. 

“No no no,” she shakes her head. “It's too dangerous. If I'm spotted in your car, we'll both be in trouble. He has people everywhere.”

I don't need to ask her who she is already referring to. I know it's Brandon, but the question now is: what kind of hold does he have on her that makes her so scared of him? 

“The windows are tinted. Believe me, I wouldn't want to put you in harm's way.”

It takes her a minute to consider everything but at last, she gives me a nod. I sigh in relief.

“Alright, come on.”

“Wait,” she stops me. “Can you, perhaps, bring the car to the side of the building?”

“Why? There's no one around.” I look at her in disbelief. 

“That's not it. Just bring the car around.” Then she adds “Please” as an afterthought.

I give her a long suspicious look but I finally cave in. Walking briskly to my car, I sigh when I realize I left the engine running in my haste to pursue after her. 

Pulling up by the side of the building, I notice her limp into the car and she winces as she sits down.

Again, I want to ask what happened but I'm sure she wouldn't tell me so I start the car and soon, we're racing down the road.

“So, what's your name?” I ask, trying to make conversation.

I glance at her through the corner of my eyes to see her messing with her sleeves, her eyes on the road. She's still wearing the white dress from last night and although I have thoughts about the dress, I don't air it. 

“Audrey, that's my name.”

“Audrey…” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. 

“Audrey with the gorgeous red hair and striking gray eyes,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

I don't know what I said wrong, but she shoots me with a sharp look, “Don't.”

I sigh as I focus on the road while inwardly scolding myself, “Nice work, asshole.”