The Nonnegotiable (Carrington #2)
Prologue
The whirl of the Greyhound’s wheels slowed, and instantly, Ella Santiago jolted awake.
An automated voice boomed over the bus’s sound system. “Next stop, Malibu. If this is your stop, please…”
Ella tuned out the message. Having heard it several times over the past twelve hours at every stop since Napa, she could recite it from memory.
Though she had slept most of the way, she was shocked at how totally exhausted she felt.
She supposed it was because her sleep had been disrupted by that message repeating every few hours as the bus rolled to a stop at all of the destinations along the way.
Catching a glimpse of herself in her window, Ella grimaced.
She looked exactly like what she was: a girl running scared.
Her makeup, so carefully applied the night before, was long gone.
The sloppy bun she pulled her hair into during the night was even sloppier now.
Pulling the scrunchie out, she finger-combed her long, black hair.
It was so painfully straight that even after hours of being twisted into a bun, it fell smoothly down her back, not a curl in sight.
She considered trying to repair her makeup but opted for a quick swipe with her fingers to remove most of the black smudges under her eyes.
Her only nod to vanity was applying some lip gloss.
Giving herself a second look in the window, she called it good.
Honestly, that was all she had in her. The past twenty-four hours had taken more out of her than the past nineteen years combined.
Within minutes, the motor coach pulled to a stop inside a bus parking lot.
Ella gathered her duffle bag and mentally prepared herself for what was to come.
She had strategically chosen the front seat of the bus so she could be the first person to exit.
While she stood at the top of the bus steps and waited for the driver to open the doors, she replayed the script in her head that she had been editing in her mind throughout the night.
She had added and deleted so many words that she hardly remembered her original version.
No matter how many changes she made, the message remained the same.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Ella scrunched down so she could look out the door windows.
She immediately spotted Ben. As always, at the sight of him, a wave of peace instantly rolled over her, dousing some of her panic.
The second the driver released the bus doors, Ella sprinted down the steps, shuffling her bag over her shoulder.
At that moment, Ben spotted Ella, and a huge grin split his face. He began quickly walking toward her, arms outstretched.
The joy of seeing Ben quickly paled as the heavy smells of gasoline, exhaust, and hot rubber tires assailed Ella.
The nausea that had tormented her most of the day before suddenly roared back to life.
Just as Ella reached Ben, she pulled back.
She opened her mouth to say she was going to be sick when the remnants of the powdered donuts she devoured hours earlier spewed from the back of her throat.
Trying to avoid raining vomit all over Ben’s chest, Ella bent over and puked all over his shiny white sneakers instead.
Her last thought before praying for a hole to open up and swallow her whole from embarrassment was, Will life—and those sneakers—ever be the same again?