Chapter Thirteen #3
I knew of her interest in Angelo, but I didn’t know Angelo would entertain or reciprocate it.
I have never cared about his romantic life; I only knew he never brought it into the business.
I trusted him not to be careless with her, but his schedule was hectic and it would not end well for either of them.
Not to mention Casmiro, his focus would be off because, unlike me, he cared about Angelo’s dating life and would become even more grumpy than he already was.
And that I could not deal with.
Me:
One date can create many inconveniences I want to avoid dealing with.
“It’s funny how money can look so large one minute, and the next, you’re wondering how the hell it’s gone; it’s not like we spend much.
” The car maneuvered onto another busy street.
“But now I’m guessing being rich for a moment isn’t even the goal anymore; being rich enough to remain comfortable is what we should aim for.
The gold can get us there, and then we could invest… ”
She was still talking when Gemma’s response came in.
Gemma (blonde car highway):
You really have nothing to worry about; we’ll be fine.
“… I don’t know which tattoo I’m going to get, but probably when I get there…”
Me:
Illogical, Gemma.
“… this food place that serves amazing dishes; you’ll be obsessed after tasting their daily special…”
Gemma (blonde car highway):
But I really, really really really feel a connection, and I don’t want to lose that; you must also know how that feels.
“Who are you texting?”
I raised my head to catch her glancing at my phone and then me, before she focused on the road again.
“Someone,” I responded, looking back at the screen and shooting off a final message.
Me:
We will continue this conversation when I return.
I pressed the side button and focused on Zahra.
“You were saying?”
She shrugged. “Never mind.” She pulled in next to a tattoo and piercing store, which looked like a place I would never go. “We’re here!”
“Why, if I may ask, do you need a tattoo?”
She turned off the engine, turning to look at me. “I already told you, but you didn’t hear … texting and all, come on.” She smiled. “I’ll explain while we’re in there.”
The store wasn’t too small or too large, but the music was odd and disturbed my ears.
Sounds of tattoo needles on skin came from behind a door to the left.
It was a little dark inside, black leather seats pressed against the artful black walls littered with several colors in drawings and eye-catching designs.
It was a little warm, and the smell of ink couldn’t be covered by whatever air freshener was busy spitting out fragrance every minute.
There was a faint smell of sweat that also irritated me.
I hated the environment, but I kept quiet.
Zahra walked to the little reception desk, occupied by a woman with a buzzcut and piercings on her lips, nose, and brows; tattoos littered her skin. “’Sup, Tatty,” Zahra greeted with a grin. “Been a while!”
Tatty responded with a surprisingly calm smile. “Zahra, I’m shocked; what has it been—a year?”
“Business these days—got myself in a bit of a situation that had me off the grid for months now. It’s been crazy.”
Tatty’s eyes shifted to me. “Oh, I see; who’s the beauty glaring at us?”
I was not glaring.
“He’s with me, and trust me, that is not a glare,” Zahra said, glancing briefly at me. “Where’s Julio?”
A door opened on one side, and a big, tatted man emerged with a huge grin on his face. “Zahra, mi amor,” he said.
She turned, and beamed … beamed.
“Julio, mon c?ur, I’ve missed you!”
And then they were hugging.
Right there, a few feet away from me.
I had suddenly become invisible.
The man looked to be in his late twenties; he had a young face, and it was apparent that he visited the gym frequently.
They pulled apart, and the man’s eyes took her in before settling on her chest, raising his hands in an attempt to touch her. “How are these beauties—”
My feet moved, and my hand grabbed the man’s wrist before it could meet her chest; I squeezed it, aiming to shatter his bones beyond repair.
“Nng—Ow, ow, ow, amigo!” the man screeched, his body bending with my hold, trying to stop me from breaking his wrist.
Zahra’s gasp reached my ears as she grabbed my arm, trying to release my hold. “Elio, what the fuck? Let go of him.”
My stare burned into his. “Do you just touch women without their permission?”
“What the—No, I was trying to check—”
“Check what?”
“To see—Ah!”
“Jesus, Elio, let him go! He’s Julio; remember the guy I told you about, the one who did my piercings?”
My grip tightened, and the man folded, dancing on his feet in pain, pain that was reflected in his face.
“You do not touch her,” I told him.
“I won’t. I won’t!”
“That sounds like a promise made out of fear. Swear to me that you will not touch her again, and if you do, I am allowed to break your wrist and subject you to a life where you will run at the sight of a tattoo pen or any pen in general because not only will I break your wrist, I will break you. Swear it.”
“I swear, no touch, no touching your angel, at all.”
I let him go.
Zahra let out a breath, shooting a frown my way as she said, “You … God—” She stopped, her voice tight as she turned to Julio with an apologetic look. “Julio, I am so sorry.”
“No, no apologies.” The man couldn’t meet my gaze. “I … I didn’t know you now have a … spouse.”
Zahra sighed. “Yeah, uh … can you bring out the design catalog?”
“Of course.” The man rushed away, looking back at me. “I am sorry again, mister.”
And then he disappeared through the door he had come out of.
Zahra turned sharply to me. “That was—”
“We are leaving.”
“No, we are not.” She fought me. “This place was a second home for me; I worked here for a few weeks, and—”
“I do not care, Zahra. We are leaving and going somewhere else.”
“No.” A glare, accompanied by irritation, flared in her eyes as she crossed her arms against her chest, her guard rising. “There’s nothing wrong with this place, and you have no fucking right to tell me what I can and cannot fucking do.”
“You were just going to let him touch you? Right in front of me?”
“It’s norm—”
“Even if you weren’t in front of me, you would have let him touch you?”
She sighed. “It’s how we are, we—we’re friends; I mean, he’s seen all there is to see about my fucking titties, and I was here frequently during that time—”
“Did you hear what I just asked?”
“I did. And I’m telling you, it wouldn’t have offended me if he had touched me.”
I blinked at her, utterly dumbfounded, my anger eating away at my resolve. The fact that she even saw the need to argue with me on this.
“I am standing right here, and you are also standing right here, telling me you would have not been offended if another man had touched you that way, right in front of me, right in front of the person you are supposedly dating, the person you are supposedly in a committed relationship with.”
Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. “I mean … when you put it like that—”
“I know you don’t like me on a large scale, and we have our many disagreements, but a little regard and a little respect would be highly appreciated.”
“Says the guy who was texting—” She clenched her jaw, stopped, breathed.
“Fine. You are right. It’s just, I’m used to that kind of familiarity with Julio, and I didn’t think it would offend you because it never used to …
offend me, and sometimes I don’t think about the, you know …
committed relationship thing. It will take some getting used to, but I realize how this could have looked.
” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, it won’t happen again.
No more letting men grope my boobies because now I have a big bad psycho boyfriend who owns my boobies …
Does the commitment include that? You owning my boobies? ”
“Stop saying … boo—that,” I ground out, knowing she was trying to make light of the situation, but I was still angry, still disturbed by what I’d just witnessed and what she had tried to defend.
“Right.” She shot me a sly smile. “Sticking to titties … or my big roundish chest balls? Fleshy oranges? Chest growths? Uh … fluffy bosom, filled-up circles? Tropical chest coconuts? Heavenly—”
“Stop, just—stop.” I rubbed my eyes. “Where are the car keys?”
Her smile faltered. “What for?”
“I will wait there until you’re finished here.”
Her face fell. “Why?”
“The car keys, Zahra.”
“It’s not that deep. I already apologized—”
“I would hate to argue in front of an audience.” I looked over at the Tatty woman, who did not bother to hide that she was looking and listening.
Looking back at Zahra, I put out my hand. She sighed, fishing in her small bag for the keys. When she found them, she dropped them into my palm.
“Elio—”
I was already walking away from her and out of the shop, itching with a need to project my anger, the jealousy twisting my gut from her blatant ignorance regarding what that man had wanted to do.
They might have been friends who groped each other—if there was a friendship of that sort—but she had me now; it should have gone without saying that there was a fucking line neither of us should cross with other people.
Or maybe she saw no need for that line because whatever this was, it wasn’t serious for her.
Overbearing and controlling were the last things I wanted to be. Those traits set off her alarm bells; I saw it in how she had locked her shoulders when I told her we were leaving; I knew she would bite off my finger instead of allowing me the space to demand we leave.
I wasn’t blind to the privileges she had given me, the little trust she had let in, and I did not intend to misuse it. So I had to leave that space to contain myself because acting on my primal thoughts would have resulted in something more serious.
I did not want my anger to take away the little trust we seemed to have built. Or to supply her with the notion that I was exhibiting traits like the other men who had fed off the control they had on her.
It was apparent that, like her, I was clueless when it came to relationships.
I sighed, breathing in fresh air, before I got into the car, grabbed my phone, and placed a call to Angelo.
It rang three times before he picked up.
“Marino?”
“Do you recall that time I told you that if I needed relationship advice, I would come to you?”
“Uh … yeah?”
“Good, now is that time,” I told him. “I need relationship advice.”