Chapter 20 Zion #2
She pushed at me with such a cute grumble, and I hid my amusement in her neck, nipping on her flesh and admiring how her artery pulsed quicker.
She puffed out, “Don’t think I won’t punish you for sneaking into my room at night.”
I hoped she did.
Tracing the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips, I deposited my present into the pocket of my gray sweatpants she was wearing.
She had no idea how to use it properly, but the way she’d snatched my own instrument from me and held it against Gedeon’s neck during dinner had weaved images of more in my head.
She brought the flip-open tactical knife into the daylight. I didn’t want her to cut herself if I wasn’t near her to lick the drops of scarlet away and turn the ache into pleas for more. Plus, she didn’t need a sheath to carry it with her. Less opportunities to hurt herself.
“You got me a knife?” She flipped it open, and steel sparkled in the blazing sun.
Running my tongue along the blade, I flicked the sharp tip, savoring the hot drop of iron coating my taste buds and coloring her knife. “Now it has been marked with first blood. Have fun with it.”
“You’re insane,” she breathed out, but closed the knife and placed it back in her pocket.
“And you are irresistible with a blade in your hand.” I licked the tip of her nose. Mmm, so sweet.
“She’s mine for today. Go play with someone else.” Jayla glared at me outside the entrance to Lucia’s, the color of her hair matching the irritation displayed on her scrunched-up face.
So that was what Kali was doing here—waiting for her.
“Cut someone open while I’m away,” I said, nipped Kali’s bottom lip, and pushed her toward Jayla.
“Go back to your basement,” Jayla groused, hooking their elbows and leading her away.
Nodding along to whatever Jayla excitedly babbled about, Kali glanced over her shoulder and stumbled.
We had to work on her balance. Couldn’t have her falling and injuring herself because she was looking at me.
Reluctantly leaving them alone, I entered Lucia’s shop, and her voice flowed from the back of the store. “I’ll be there in a second!”
A milky, half-translucent material covered the windows to block out the worst of the heat, but daylight filtered through, nevertheless.
Leather merchandise filled the floating metal shelves secured to the walls.
Nothing special, just everyday goods: backpacks, satchels, jackets and such.
But if you were close with Lucia, you visited her for different purchases, for her specialty—custom-made steel and leather items you had to order in advance.
“Here for another set for your underground?” The short and curvy owner dropped a clinking paper bag on the white counter and noted my immediate interest in the contents. Were those chains? “These are not for you, Zion. I’m expecting a customer to come pick these up today. Now, how can I help you?”
“Lucia.” I smiled at the no-nonsense woman. “They won’t bother you anymore. My team will come visit you to sort out the money situation.”
She pushed the brown paper bag aside, freeing up the counter. “You knew?”
“Yes. Next time, tell us. You know we don’t tolerate fools.”
“I know, it’s just… They threatened Dorvan about his son if he didn’t keep his mouth shut, and we celebrated his fifth birthday three weeks ago. I didn’t want to bring any trouble to them.”
Five-years-old.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll always find out and take care of them. It would only be quicker if you’d share it with us,” I said, and pulled my sketch from my pocket. “Now, can you make something like these?”
Lucia reviewed the designs I’d drawn and tapped on two points where steel buckles connected the leather pieces together.
“It’s not going to work. These parts will restrict movement.
But I can make it work with a few adjustments.
” She pulled a pencil from the drawer below the counter and scribbled on a few changes. “Now, what color do you want for each?”
I inspected the improved design. Truly, her talent was unparalleled. “Black. How soon can you make it?”
“This I can do in two weeks.” She indicated the smaller of the two designs. “But the other one will take me a couple of months. I’ll need the measurements to make sure everything fits snugly and yet stays in place and comfortable without impacting motions.”
“Deal. I’ll send someone over with everything.”
Lucia trusted me not to ask for an advance payment, and I exited her shop, pondering about requesting a new set of chains. The collection I had was in great condition, but there couldn’t be too many, could it?
Heavy air drenching the passerby in sweat attacked me, unfurling an image of how the leather I’d designed would wrap around Kali’s body, black in stark contrast with her fair skin, her dark messy waves a crown of sorts, and her clutching the glinting steel I’d gifted her, the edge of the blade dripping crimson.
Knee-buckling.
The shadows at the end of the long hallway obscured me from her sight as she once again opened her bedroom door and paused. Groaning, Kali hit the door frame with her palm and stomped back inside. The door closed without a sound, hiding her midnight contemplation.
Eight.
Five minutes ticked by, and she ripped the door open. The door handle hit the wall, and a thud reverberated in the space, the echoes causing her to flinch. Her head swiveled to both sides, but not a single door creaked open for a head to peek out despite her noisiness.
She didn’t know the people residing on this floor occupied the apartments in all the hallways but this one. Gedeon and I had made sure of it. Our own little corner of peace and quiet.
With another grunt, she slunk back into her bedroom and slammed the door.
Nine.
How long was she planning to keep going like that?
Minutes ticked by. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty. An hour. Her door stayed closed. She must’ve exhausted herself with her incessant pacing, back and forth, out and back in.
My sneakers silent, I stalked to her door and stuck my head inside. She’d tucked herself under the thick duvet, curled up in a ball, her lips parted. Faint mumbles filled the room as a restless dream had snatched her from reality.
A tap on my shoulder sent me leaping backward and hitting my head on the door frame. I cursed at the sharp pain blooming behind my eyes.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I muttered, massaging the tender spot at the back of my head, a bump sure to swell in the next hour. Not the first, and definitely not the last.
Gedeon leaned against the hallway wall painted in gray—the compromise between Jayla and Eislyn insisting on colors—to be exact, any color whatsoever, as they’d put it—and him arguing for black—and folded his arms over his chest. “What are you doing?”
I winced from accidentally rubbing the bruised spot too roughly. “I wanted to see if she’d run. She tried to leave, but then went back in. And repeated it nine times. She’s passed out now.”
Chuckling, he pushed off the wall and peeked inside her bedroom, lingering in the doorway for far longer than a normal person should. Except I wouldn’t call myself decent, so stating he was abnormal would be hypocritical.
He closed the door, the faintest click the sole sign it’d been opened in the first place, and smirked. “I have an idea.”