Chapter 23
23
ASHE
I had to stand there and watch as Toni dragged Zarina out of the clubhouse like she was in big trouble.
Of course, the logical part of my brain knew that it was all a part of our plan to keep up the facade of our rivalry, just in case our theory about Theo was true.
But still, the primal, neanderthal part of my brain saw how Antoni’s hand was wrapped around Zarina’s tiny bicep, yanking her forward like a ragdoll, and everything in me wanted to snap his fingers off.
But she played the part beautifully. Tugging against him. Swearing at him. Fighting every step of the way.
We’d agreed not to meet tonight, and as much as me and my cock were mad about it, it was a good idea.
Toni would lock her away in his house, like a princess in a tower, under the guise that she would be sitting in a corner and thinking about what she did wrong. A fitting punishment for a Santino who dared speak to a Redliner.
This way, if The EA was tracking us, they wouldn’t be able to put together the connection. But even if Theo was just a desperate loser acting alone, at least he wouldn’t be able to get near her without someone knowing about it.
Toni had asked for 24 hours.
Prince had agreed, and I set a countdown on my phone.
After all the sneaking around, all the secrecy, all the stolen moments, I was done. Everyone who mattered knew about us now, and there were no reasons left why I shouldn’t be near her.
I wanted to be in her sunshiney presence. I wanted to be around her. I wanted to be close to her, to follow her around all the time but without hiding. I wanted to enter her home through the front door, and not have to worry about leaving before the sun rose.
So I did my best to stay busy.
I worked on my bike for a while, and then I went to the studio to finish up some custom pieces. A few walk-ins came in through the hours of the early evening, which helped me take my mind off the little heiress that I couldn’t help but think about.
I felt Jess’s presence behind me, hovering and watching while I hunched over my light box and finished the outline for a floral piece a young girl had requested.
“Pretty,” she said simply after a while, dragging a stool over to watch a little more closely.
I grunted in response, poking my tongue into my cheek while I concentrated.
Jess cradled her face in her hands, elbows resting on the desk beside me.
“You can go home, you know.”
“I know,” she shrugged but didn’t move.
“So why don’t you?” My voice probably came out a little more cutting than I intended, but Jess knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t rude on purpose.
“It’s funny seeing you like this.”
I could tell she was watching my face, examining me or something. It reminded me of Zarina, of how she saw everything, noticed everything, no matter how minor.
Maybe it was just a woman thing.
Or maybe it was just a trait honed by people like Jess and Zarina who had too much experience with having to notice things about others.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Jess shrugged. “You’re scowling, but your heart’s just not in it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You seem lighter, I suppose,” she continued, not taking the hint that I wasn’t in the mood to hear her theories. “Bounding around the studio, singing along to tunes you usually whinge about.”
“You play the same fucking songs every day , Jess.”
“Plus, your pieces look a little different too.” She gestured with her chin towards the wall where I hung my works in progress. With a tilt of her head and crossed arms, she leaned back to take in the collection as a whole.
After letting out an exasperated sigh, I did the same.
The heavy lines and shadows of my pieces from a few months ago looked like they had been drawn by someone else now. I chewed on the inside of my lip while my eyes flitted between the two eras of my art.
The contrast was clear, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t even noticed it. This girl had impacted me from the start, before I even fucking knew about it. She’d been morphing me, cracking me open and rearranging me into something better before I was even aware and without even trying.
Jess held up her hands, framing the section of my old work with her fingers.
“Pre-Zarina,” she closed one eye in mock-seriousness before sweeping her palms towards the newer pieces. “Post-Zarina.”
“Hmm,” was all I allowed.
“She must fuck real good if she can make your sketches less shit,” Jess offered a quick, condescending pat on the shoulder before heading back to the front desk. I watched as she grabbed her bag and packet of cigarettes and headed towards the back door.
“Oi,” I called when she was half-way out.
“What?” she mumbled with a smoke already lodged between her lips and without looking up from her phone.
“Thanks.”
“Ugh, now you’re being polite and shit?” she rolled her eyes and let the door slam shut behind her.
I chuckled when she was gone, shaking my head as I headed over to the nervous looking woman flanked by her friends, waiting to get her first tattoo. When I showed her the design, her eyes lit up and she nodded furiously.
“That’s perfect,” she said.
“Cool,” I offered a quick nod. “Let’s do it.”
She followed me over to the station, wringing her hands together and looking at the wall of my drawings while I wiped down the bed.
“So,” she said as she hopped up and laid back, “who’s this Zarina?”
I smirked, shaking my head at the eavesdropping skills on the girl. She was probably making conversation more to ease her own nerves, rather than actually being nosy. But I still chuckled a little as I dipped into the black ink.
“She’s my old lady.”
* * *
The rest of the night passed without much interest. Jess went home. I packed up all the equipment, disinfecting everything with the fresh smelling cleanser. The bit of work had done me good, got me out of my head.
The bell on the door chimed as it opened.
“Sorry,” I called over my shoulder. “We’re closed.”
“That’s nice, mate.” A man chuckled in a tone that had me turning around to see who the fuck he was.
But then everything went dark.