Zola Flash (The Zola Flash Series Book 1) by T. Marie Alexander Page A

can’t I when he’s being sweet, and he apologized. He’s going to think I’m doing it for Pin. Granted, Pin is a part of why I don’t return Trevor’s feelings completely, but …
    “Zola, if this—” Trevor beings, but I cut him off with my lips.
    It doesn’t take a second for him to respond. He kisses me back, and his mouth tastes malty. He moves his lips down to my neck, and I tense up, but he continues nibbling my neck. Moving back to my lips, the kiss deepens. I’m just about to pull away when I hear a hard swallow.
    “Um, excuse me, Mademoiselle . . .” Pierre says.
    I pull away from Trevor. Pierre isn’t alone. He’s back with other garcons, holding the food. The others do not looks at us, but toward the floor, as they place the food on the table, after which, they walk away.
    Pierre stalls, though, and looks directly at me. “Ami de cour.” He is insincere. Or rather his friendship is insincere. He points at Trevor. .  Pierre turns to Trevor. “It might not be my place to say, Sir, but she is a little young for pubic indecencies.”
    Trevor stands up, knocking me off his lap in the process, and places a hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “You’re right. It’s not your place. You are just a server at my father’s restaurant. Nothing more. What we do, or don’t do, does not concern you. Think about providing for your family next time you open your month and talk to me.”
    “Trevor!” I gape at him. That was completely uncaused for. You don’t threaten a person’s family.
    Pierre looks at me with much sympathy in his eyes. “Dieu vougrade,” he says before he walks off.
    I try to go after him, but Trevor grabs my forearm. I whirl on him, but all he does is roll his eyes. That’s the last straw. I’m done with him. All his apologies were nothing more than lies. He’s not a good person. And I’m not going to stand around and take his crap.
    I yank my arm free of him and run inside to the kitchen. There are cooks and servers, but I don’t see Pierre. I taP on one of the server’s shoulder. “Où est Pierre?”
    The server just shrugs his shoulders. I head back to where Trevor stands, ready to give him a good, long piece of my mind. Before I can speak a word, though, Trevor backhands me across the face, sending me tumbling to the ground. I move my fingers up to my cheek and cringe. He hit me. I can’t believe he struck me.
    Trevor yanks me up from the ground. I try to pull away, but he takes hold again in an iron-like grip. He’s stronger than I expected. I didn’t realize just how strong people of Earth really are.
    “Let me go!” I yell at him in near panic.
    Trevor spins me into his chest and covers my mouth with his leathery-tasting hand. He must have had football practice before coming to me. He drags me out front to the vehicle we arrived in and roughly shoves me into the backseat.
    Sitting there, I debate whether or not I should morph. Morphing can be dangerous, especially as neither Trevor nor the driver knows my true identity. Exposing them to that can put me and Pin in jeopardy.  Where the hell is Pin when I need him? Some guardian he is.
    “Where are you taking me?” I ask Trevor as he takes the seat next to mine.
    “To the hotel I reserved for us.” He smiles, but it isn’t a nice one. “At least one of us can still have a good time.”

Chapter Twenty-Four
    WE TRAVEL MAINLY ON back roads that are not crowded with civilians. I don’t look or talk to Trevor. I suspected he was egotistic, but I didn’t think he would do something like this. Worst thing is, I’m positive he doesn’t even know he’s in the wrong.
    When we make it to the hotel, which I may say is huge and empty-looking, I notice a young boy, most-likely the same age as Cleo, standing on the corner with a cup. He has short, black hair, and cuts and bruises all over the visible parts of his body, as if he has been beaten. The boy is fairly thin and looks to be starving— I can see his ribs sticking out