Your Driver Is Waiting Novels & Stories

And parked at the curb was the same black SUV from the night before. The driver, a man with a face like a stone wall, stepped out and opened the door. "I’m taking the bus," Cat said, her voice cracking. "The 149 is delayed, Miss Watson," the driver said tonelessly. "Engine failure. Four blocks away. All of them." Cat froze. "All of them?" "A statistical anomaly," he replied. "The car is faster."

THANK GOD THERE WERE NO CARS BEHIND ME. “WHAT?” My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. I found myself slightly trembling because I knew damn well who the gentleman was. And at that moment, I swear I wasn’t ready to face him or do anything to him. I just couldn’t, not while I was in this mess. “He is waiting. You need to get here in half an hour. You hear me?” He barked, and I stepped on the accelerator and started driving. I yanked the phone from the mount and placed it on my ear.

I glanced at the driver, and our eyes met in the rearview mirror. "Oh no. I know that look," he said suspiciously. "Kid, don't tell me you don't have money to pay?" I scratched the back of my neck and gave him an awkward smile. "Looks like you're right, sir. But if you can wait for me here, I promise I'll be able to pay you. I just need to get the money from inside." He frowned but eventually nodded. "I'll wait here. But if you don't come back, I'm going in there myself."

I reached for my purse, which was on the nightstand, my hands running across the screen. In a voice that was nothing but a whisper, I asked the driver, “Is the ride ready?” “I'm currently parked in front of the cathedral, and I'm waiting for your signal,” responded the driver. “Good,” I replied, as I hung up. I took a deep breath, a cold smile running across my lips. I was so good at this game; the thought of how good I have played sent darts of excitement to my chest. My sunglasses perched on my nostrils, and I ran a comb through my hair, loosening it and making it relax on my body.

The silence inside is deafening, broken only by the faint buzz of the engine. Daegan stares out the window, jaw clenched, like he's caging something volatile. I clench my fists, psyching myself up. "Thank you," I say, voice small. The driver's fingers twitch on the wheel, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror before darting away. Daegan finally moves, glancing coldly at the mirror. The driver straightens, not daring to look again. Then—slowly—Daegan turned to me.

A handful of tables were already occupied and low music played in the background I chose a seat near the window. From there, I could see the car. The driver remained inside, posture straight, eyes scanning occasionally. I ordered a drink. Something light. Something to give me an excuse to sit. The glass arrived. I lifted it, sipping slowly. The warmth of it spread through my chest, but it didn’t calm the unease humming underneath my skin. I glanced at the car again The driver was still there waiting. I took another sip. The driver shifted slightly in his seat outside, glancing down at his phone briefly.

I had thought he would have left with the way he walked out of the dining room, but here he was still waiting, though I was curious about what he was waiting for. I Walked towards his car, then he pointed at a small car not far away, “A driver will drive you to and fro, so just wait to hear back from him and he should be here in a few minutes.” He said coldly and before I could say a thing, he raised his hand and signaled his driver to drive off. I watched the car drive out and even after I could see no traces of it anymore, I still stood there staring into space blankly. Then I heard the sound of greetings which snapped me out of my daze.

“This diner that you are looking at should be approaching their closing time by now.” The driver looked at me plainly, but I know that deep down, he doesn't know what he could make of the information I'm feeding him yet. But he dared not show me an expression that mirrors his inward thought. I continued, “I’m expecting a young waitress to come out of this diner in a few minutes.” “Now, this is what you would do for me,” I said finally. This time, he shifted in his driver's seat to pay me better attention as he knew the stakes of fumbling at any task I gave him.

Anyone who waits wants leverage. Instead, I let my gaze drift to the rearview, where the same Honda idled at the curb. Its driver, a man built like an ungracious apology, did not look up from his phone. I unlocked the phone with my left hand, the right staying on the wheel. UNKNOWN: YOU’RE GETTING SLOPPY. No threat, no signature, no request for a reply. I read it, once, then again.

He turned to the driver and gave a nod. I couldn't hide the fact that I was surprised at his response. As a matter of fact, I wasn't the only person the driver was stunned as well. “Sorry boss I didn't get you.” He stammered. “A person with initiative should know that the weather is quite chilly and needs heat. Why exactly did you have to wait to be told before you turn it off.” Adrian replied, visibly annoyed. “My apologies sir”. The driver muttered and turned off the air conditioners.