Adler | The Aces of St.Sinclair BOOK 1.

Recruitment | A FIVE

"Well maybe she's going through something," Ashton suggested.

"Yeah, maybe." My tone however, couldn't hide my skepticism.

Catching onto it, Ashton was quick to nudge me. "Don't lose your head over it, Steves." With an urging smile, I forced myself to shrug it off as we continued our steps. "So anyways, I was thinking for lunch we could head out to that new bistro on east street."

"Is that the one with...?" My sentence was cut off by the sudden blaring noise of an engine.

The sleek black body of a convertible speedily pulled up right in front of us. It appeared so abruptly that we both yelped, bones nearly jumping out of our skin. The shrill noise of screeching-rubber burning on asphalt before hitting on the brakes, parked between the road and the pathway.

A steel faced man was situated behind the wheel. Judging from his attire, he was a chauffeur and seated by him was Garren. Then sat at the back were Ben and Will. All three boys had their faces hidden behind sunglasses and windswept hair that still looked stylish.

"You nearly ran us over you pricks!" Ashton fumed.

Garren paid no mind to her livid tone and turned to his loyal foot soldiers with a nod. It seemed to be some sort of signal as the two boys immediately stepped out of the car and without warning, fastened their arms around me.

"What are you-? Oi!"

Their grip was binding, compressing my movements to a substantial degree. I was like a slice of meat wedged between two pieces of bread.

"Let go of her!" I heard Ashton bark as I was hauled forward.

They hoisted me up to my feet hovering in the air and I thrashed my legs about but it went to be a futile effort, along with shouting. I was dropped into the back seats of the convertible, seatbelt shackling me into place in mere seconds and the next thing I knew, a petrified looking Ashton was getting further away from view as the car sped down the road.

"What the hell is going on? Where are you taking me?" I questioned.

"Are you lactose intolerant?" came Garren's query, over his shoulder.

I scrunched my brows. "What?"

He turned his head to meet my puzzled face, leaving no shadow of a doubt this time when he repeated it. "I said are you lactose intolerant?"

"What does that even have to do with anything? I asked a question. Where are you taking me?"

"And I'll answer yours, after you answer mine."

I narrowed my eyes. I didn't trust him in the slightest but I doubted he'd play fair, since he literally just forced me into a car. "... No, I'm not."

Garren reverted to his former position, muttering something to the driver. I sat in there, still with no explanation and the speed of the car packing the wind into a ruthless whirlwind, whipping my hair. I desperately tried and failed to maintain my mane of puffs from sprawling out chaotically with Ben and Will watching in awe at my futile attempts.

The one time I decide not to bunch up my hair, of course I end up abducted and once the car finally stopped, I no doubt resembled a dandelion.

The boys seemed not to have minded- or more like, cared as they ushered me forward into the petite café up ahead. Thankfully, Garren reserved for a private booth boarded by an ostentatiously large fish tank that hid me from other customers.

Making a scene would end up drawing attention regardless so I was forced to refrain from screaming at the dark haired devil for ruining my hairdo. I channeled my indignation on the pretty menus which were written in French.