Shattered (Book Four)

Chapter 15: Takeout

Ever since the "pep-talk" with my father, Jared has been fidgeting in his car seat, blinking away the streaks of sweat from his eyes. The more I tried to calm him down, the more anxious he is getting.

"Sorry about my dad," I chuckled nervously. "He gets...overprotective." Jared clenched the steering wheel with his bare hands, but shook his head. "That's okay," he replied. "Don't worry about it."

"Anyways, we should be worrying about getting to the restaurant on time." I nodded in agreement. "Okay," I sighed. "I guess I am a little bit hungry." "Me too," he agreed. As soon as he came across a right turn, Jared followed the gray trail.

The truck's headlights shone brightly against the smooth road, searching for moving obstacles. While Jared drove in silence, I stared quietly at the window. I thought back to the memory of the concealed Chinese box.

Obviously, Ghenghis Khan must have rushed putting that box of drugs and cash into the trunk, but did he have the time to close it? Something just doesn't make any sense, I thought. Why did the Red Dragon want it so badly?

All of a sudden, I felt a small tap on my shoulder. I glanced to see Jared, giving me a worried look. "Cleo," he began. "Are you alright? You seemed quiet." Says the guy who decided to avoid me. "Everything is fine," I insisted. "I was just thinking about the news." His eyes lit up like lightbulbs.

"You mean the car explosion, right?" I nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair when he spoke to me. "It must have been scary," he replied. "Being burned alive like that?" "Yeah," I agreed, shuddering at the sight of the corpse.

Jared drove until we saw a magnificent restaurant, wedged in between Chinese markets. It was a two story building with a golden curved roof, placid windows, and a deep shade of red splashed on the walls.

But the strangest part of the restaurant is the parking lot packed with a lot of expensive cars. I wondered if celebrities been to this place. When I asked Jared about it, he only shrugged then grabbed his black jacket.

Sighing, I hopped out of the car then followed him into the restaurant. Besides the glass door is a tall, scrawny Asian man holding a cigarette between his fingers. He wore a black t-shirt, long jeans that covered his ankles, and sneakers.

He had a tattoo of a red dragon stained on his neck. I felt a sharp tug on my shoulder as Jared led me to a fancy room, where people ate and chatted happily in Chinese. Like the outside, the room has wine red walls.

However, there were black tables and chairs that make up the room. Men and women wore black evening clothes while waiters and waitresses wore red suits and ties.

Golden chandeliers hung over the crowded tables. After Jared ask the man behind the counter our dinner reservations, he gave us both fishy looks. "May we have table on?" he asked politely. The man tilted his head in confusion. Sighing, I walked up to him then asked for our dinner table in Chinese.

Ignoring Jared's shocked look, the man gave me a polite smile then showed us to our table. It had a white tablecloth, utensils, and two wooden black chairs sitting in front of each other.

The man removed a sheet of paper with the number one on it then let us sit down. He asked in Chinese if there is anything we would like. Smiling, I shook my head as the man vanished without a trace.

"You can speak Chinese?" Jared asked in amazement. I nodded. I was fluent in German, French, Italian, Spanish, and Chinese, but right now I am learning Swahili in Rosetta Stone.

"Cool!" Jared breathed. Just then, a waitress came over and wrote down our orders. While Jared wanted the white rice, I preferred soup and green tea. After I thanked her, the waitress smiled then disappeared into the kitchen.

"So," he began, clearing his throat. "Is this your first time here?" "Yeah," I answered nervously. "Oh, sorry." Jared blushed. "I just realized that you never come here before." "It's okay," I insisted.

We started having a conversation about school, what college we wanted to attend, and our future jobs. "You want to be an artist or a detective, right?" "Something like that," I chuckled. "But right now, I am thinking about taking over my uncle's job as a private investigator."

Jared's eyes twinkled for a moment. "What does your family do for a living?" he asked. Not wanting to tell them my parent's top secret jobs, lies poured out of my mouth: "My mom is an accountant," I said. "And my dad is in the airforce."

"Your uncle is a private investigator?" he asked. I nodded. "I help him with his cases and take phone calls." "You're Jessica Jones, right?" Jared joked. I giggled at his question then shrugged my shoulders casually. "Something like that," I said.

The waitress came back to our tables carrying a hot plate and a bowl reserved for the two of us. As she set the food down, she smiled then told us that she will go back for my green tea. "Take your time," I said in Chinese.

She flashed me a polite grin then head back to the kitchen again. Grabbing his utensils, Jared devoured his rice while I only dipped the spoon into the broth and tasted it. The soup almost tasted like chicken noodle.

All of a sudden, I saw a teenage boy wearing a school football uniform. He had wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and a stern look on his face. Something made me realize who it is: It was Jerry. What is he doing here? I wondered.

Most importantly, why is wearing his football jersey to a fancy restaurant like this? I watched as Jerry searched around until he saw a group of suspicious men, chatting and eating their dinner.

While two men were skinny and wears dark clothing, the third one is an overweight man who wears a gray suit and tie. Silently, Jerry walked over to a menacing plump man and whispered in his tattooed ear.

It was so quiet that I couldn't make out what they were saying. The fat man looked up from his dinner and gazed at Jerry with disdain. In an instant, the man wiped the grains of rice from the corner of his lips, rose up from his seat, and followed Jerry in the kitchen.

I wanted to go after those two, but first I need to take care of my date. "Hey, Jared." I began, smiling nervously. "I need to use the restroom." Jared looked up from his rice then nodded. "Sure," he beamed. "Take your time."

I gave them a smile, rose up from my seat, and stormed after them, letting the kitchen door shut behind me.