34. 34 - Zella
“I think we should go out this evening.”
My heart skips a beat at Ryder’s announcement, and I glance up at Maverick. He’s working his way around the dinner table, carefully selecting food for my plate as normal. He frowns, his hand hovering over a bowl of vegetables. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
I can almost feel my body deflating.
It’s not that I’m not happy here. But the urge to see more, experience more , is starting to pull at me now more than ever. I don’t feel as enclosed here as I did in the apartment – not with the gardens open to me. But I’m starting to feel the tug for something else, something different.
When I glance at Enzo, his eyes are on my face. Biting my lip, I duck my head, reaching out for my wine glass and taking a slightly too big sip that almost makes me choke.
I nearly miss his next words over my cough. “Little prey wants to go out.”
Everybody’s attention turns to me, and I shrug awkwardly. “I… wouldn’t mind. But I know we’re still watching for Ethan.”
With every day that passes, my time with Ethan begins to feel more like a memory. My time in the apartment feels faded when I think of it, almost muted. Life outside is so vibrant in comparison.
Ryder senses Maverick’s hesitation and leans forward, tapping his fingers on the tablecloth. “Come on, Mav. He’s not suddenly going to pop up in the middle of Victrola.”
“What’s Victrola?” I ask, and Maverick runs a hand down his face.
“We’re not taking her there,” he snaps at Ryder. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“We can book the private area,” Ryder points out. “Dress her up so she’s harder to recognise. The only person who would is Moore, and he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Maverick places my plate down in front of me as I frown. They’ve been tracking Ethan’s car, but he hasn’t used it for days. My chest tightens at the thought that something bad may have happened to him. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Maverick settles in next to me. “I’m sure he’s fine, Zella. But until we know exactly where he is, I think I’d feel more comfortable with you staying here.”
My nod feels heavy, but Ryder interjects before I can respond.
“Hold on a second, Mav. She didn’t leave that place only to become a prisoner somewhere else.”
Maverick narrows his eyes. “I’m trying to protect her.”
“But so was Ethan,” I whisper. Maverick pales, and I instantly feel a stab of guilt. “Zella… this isn’t the same.”
“No,” Ryder says softly. His eyes are on Maverick. “Because you’re not a prisoner here, Zella. So what do you want to do?”
I look between Maverick and Ryder. Both of them are staring at each other, and Maverick’s jaw is clenched. Eventually, he nods.
“Ryder is right,” he acknowledges, looking down at me with an apology in his eyes. “I don’t want to trap you here, Zella. If you want to go, we’ll make it work.”
“I… I’d like to go.” I avoid his eyes. “But what’s… Victrola?”
Ryder’s eyes gleam when he leans forward. “It’s a place where you can wear your gold sequins, princess.”
Oooh.
***
I’m drying my last section of hair when the bedroom door knocks. After dinner, we all split up to get ready for tonight.
At an actual club. With dancing.
I’m trying to keep my excitement under wraps, but the nerves flip flopping in my stomach are doing the job for me.
What if I embarrass them?
I can’t dance. I’ve never danced in my life.
I’m on the verge of passing out when I rip the door open and my eyes widen.
Ryder lounges against my door frame, and if I thought he was handsome before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks right now.
A silky dark green shirt hugs his chest, tucked into smart trousers with black shoes.
His hair is slicked back, and the slow smile on his face tapers off when he gets a good look at my face.
“Hey, now,” he chides, stepping into my room. “What’s the matter, princess?”
Huffing, I pick my hairbrush back up. “It’s nothing. I’m looking forward to it.”
His hand closes over mine, gently wrestling the brush from me as he turns me around by my shoulders. “Then why do you look like someone died?”
I turn to glare at him, but he taps the back of my head with the brush and begins pulling my hair through it with long, firm strokes. “It’s not that. I am looking forward to it. It’s just… I’m a little nervous, that’s all.”
“Makes sense,” he murmurs. “It’s a whole new experience for you. Lots of people, and lots of noise. But we’ve got our own private area, so you can get used to it slowly. And if you don’t like it, we can leave.”
“I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night.” I chew on my lip, and Ryder laughs.
“I think Daddy Mav would be delighted. He’s more nervous than you are.”
My lips twist up. “Daddy Mav?”
Ryder smirks. “Because he fusses over us like a dad.”
I have the feeling Maverick would hate that nickname, but it does make me laugh. Ryder starts playing with my hair. “I’ll braid this for you, keep it off the ground.”
My head twists. “You can do that?”
I always loop it around my waist, but Ryder nods. “When I was working in some of the clubs, I used to do the girls' hair sometimes, when they were in a rush. Got pretty good at it too.”
I stay silent for a few minutes as he works, forcing down the yawning pit of envy that’s opened up in my stomach.
Don’t be stupid , I tell myself firmly. Ryder hated that time. I know that.
It takes him a while to work though, but he finally sets his hand on my shoulders and turns me towards the mirror. “What do you think?”
My hand raises up, tracing the layers he’s woven into my braid, layer upon layer of hair that runs down my back and ends just below my thighs. “Wow. You weren’t kidding.”
“I have magic hands.” Yawning, he throws himself down onto my bed, propping his head on his hand. “Time to get dressed, princess. The others will be waiting for us.”
“Right.” I move over to the closet, pulling it open and inspecting the contents like the right outfit is magically going to appear. I pull out the gold sequin top, since Ryder mentioned it earlier. And then… I stare at the rest.
Warm hands slide around my waist, and I jump. “Need some help?” Ryder murmurs, and I nod.
“I feel very underprepared for this,” I admit. He leans in, pulling open a drawer and fishing around until he pulls out some underwear.
“Pop these on,” he tells me, pointing to the top. “That goes over the top. I’ll find you shoes.”
I stare down at the very small piece of material. “What about the bottom?”
I swear he hides a smile as he kneels down, inspecting the shoes they ordered for me. “That’s a dress, princess.”
My eyes widen. “This is not a dress.”
Despite my misgivings, I duck into the bathroom. I’m still awkward about changing in front of Ryder, even though he’s seen every part of me.
When I look in the mirror, my cheeks flush a deep red. He’s going to be seeing most of me tonight too, judging by the length of this top.
“This is definitely not a dress,” I announce, stepping out of the bathroom. Ryder makes a choking sound, and I watch with interest as the tips of his ears turn red.
“My mistake,” he says quickly. “Here, I’ll find you something else.”
He throws himself into the closet. “Maybe a snowsuit,” he mutters.
I glance down at the length of leg on show. Maybe I should wear this. I want to see if Enzo and Maverick look at me the same way Ryder did.
“Actually, I like this one,” I announce. “What shoes should I wear?”
Ryder groans. “Princess.”
“Ryder,” I say, mimicking him. “Come on. I don’t want to be late.”
He reappears, looking flustered with a pair of gold strappy shoes in his hands. “Sandals,” he says, passing them over. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for heels yet.”
As I bend over to slip them on and tie the long ribbons around my legs, I think I hear a groan, and I bite my lip in a smile.
This is going to be fun.