Page 88 of Scarred King
The jeep stops at the entrance to the bar. We go inside and the girls greet me. They’ve never done that before, and I find it comforting. I stand and stare at the round table, praying to see the odd man who has stolen my heart, but the only man sitting there is Ralph. Suddenly, he seems helpless.
“What’s bothering you?” I ask as I sit opposite him. “Didn’t you get to kill anyone today?”
“You are funny,” he chuckles. “I'm supposed to send my people to collect money, and I have no idea where Liam hid the list of people who owe us money.”
“I see,” I murmur and wave at Charlie who just walked in. He winks at me and goes behind the counter. “That’s not a problem,” I go upstairs to the office and come back with a piece of paper and a pen. Ralph watches me quietly as I sketch a table and fill in the columns with the names of debtors and the amounts they owe. “Here you go,” I give him the paper and he looks at me in astonishment.
“Where did you get this?” he asks suspiciously.
“I just wrote it down, right here in front of you.” I laugh.
“I mean how do you know this?” He corrects himself angrily and asks Johanna for a drink.
“It’s all in here,” I point at my head. “For better, or for worse, I remember everything I see.”
Victor and Leo walk in and look at me in shock. “Elena, you can’t walk around like that,” they remark, shocked at the sight of my tank-top and jeans. “The show must go on until the curtain goes down and the entire audience are on their feet, applauding.” Victor says, gesturing dramatically to illustrate his words. “Leo, go upstairs with her.” He orders and runs off to the club. I yawn and rub my eyes, but I go upstairs. A minute later Victor enters, out of breath, holding some bags.
As we make our way back downstairs, I look like I’ve just walked off the set of an old TV show. This time, I’m wearing a long black dress with a high collar and a long train. My loose hair is greased, and my eyes are heavy with makeup. The pocketknives are clean and in place.
“It's as if The Bride of Dracula and Princess Diana merged into one,” Leo says in excitement. He gives me my fan and pushes me in front of Ralph, who looks astonished.
“Don’t say anything,” I roll my eyes and sit down opposite him.
“Thirty thousand dollars,” he slams the table.
“What?” I yawn, careful not to rub my eyes.
“Thirty thousand dollars for one hour with you.” He looks agitated.
“You’re sweet,” I smile, “and very flattering.” I get up and stretch. “And by the way, we’ve already been over that,” I smirk. “But never mind. You better stop offering me money for sex.” I pull the pocketknife out of my belt and stick it in the table, next to his hand holding the glass. His eyes lock onto the sharp blade and I burst into laughter.
He draws the knife out of the table, examines it and laughs loudly with me. “You are crazy.” He hands me my knife back and I fold it and put it back in my belt. “And I am increasing my offer. Fifty thousand dollars,” he says, looking at me expectantly.
“Oh, come on,” I rearrange my collar and straighten up. “Stop annoying me.” I lean towards him to take his glass and drink from it. “And do me a favor, don’t tell Liam about everything that happened here last night.” A large body presses against me from behind and I stand up in a panic, quickly removing my knife from my belt. Strong arms are hugging my hips and I look at Ralph in distress. He starts to smile. My hair is pushed aside gently, and the knife shakes in my hand. Lips flutter softly over the back of my neck and the scars rub against my skin. A pleasant shiver travels down my spine, as the knife drops from my hand and I stand up straight, throw my head back and sigh in total relaxation. The girls’ cries of joy cut off this intimate moment, and I turn around to see his electrifying, angelic face.
“Why the hell are you dressed like a black widow?” he asks angrily and examines me intently. “I thought I told you not to go near the bar.
“I missed you too,” I fake a smile and feel my heart shrinking painfully.
“Elena?” Tommy comes up behind him. “You look like—”
“Like dynamite.” Mike arrives too and scratches his head. “That’s what we called ‘the dance’, when a stripper wore that outfit and brought the place down,” he laughs, and Liam’s scars stretch over his face.
“Sit by the bar,” he orders, still in an angry tone of voice. I feel like picking up my knife off the floor and stabbing him in the leg. “We’ll get out of here in a few minutes,” he says as he sits down opposite Ralph.
I take a deep breath and decide that this isn’t the time to start punching him. I stand up straight, walk to the counter, sit and arrange my dress. “Charlie, get me a bottle of water, please,” I ask in a whisper, as I feel my body hardening and turning to stone. Now that he’s back, I can stop playing my game. The curtain has come down, but the audience isn’t applauding – it’s booing. The pressure and stress paralyze my brain and all I want is to burst into tears.
“Here you go, Duchess,” Charlie smiles at me and I wipe away a stray tear. I drink some water and watch the men at the round table. Ralph is talking and they're looking at him tensely. Liam calls the brunette over. It looks like he is interrogating her and then all the girls go over the table one by one. He asks them questions and they answer, looking upset and nervous. He shouts for Charlie to join them and he doesn’t even look at me once. When Charlie’s interrogation is over, Liam stands up, pats him on the shoulder and turns his head to me.
The expression I prayed to see when I turned to him the first time an hour ago is penetrating my veins now. I bite my lips and my heart expands to hold the intense emotions he is showing me. He walks towards me quickly, grabs my hips and holds me close. He doesn’t say anything, just kisses me wildly as I melt into him.
“We’re leaving.” He pulls my hand and I run beside him in my narrow high heels. He sits me on the motorcycle, and I lift up my dress. He kisses me again and sits down in front of me, I hold on to him tight and the motorcycle starts moving. The Volvo is nowhere to be seen, but he still drives through red lights, as if we are being chased by the devil himself. By the time we get to the garage door, my arms are sore from holding onto him so tightly. As soon as the door closes behind us, he helps me off the motorcycle and pulls me quickly into the house. He doesn’t stop in the living room, but runs up the stairs, dragging me behind him. He takes me into the bedroom, presses me against the window and takes a step back as he looks at me from head to toe.
“All I asked you to do was find Ralph.” He looks annoyed, but he doesn’t sound angry anymore.
“I tried,” I swallow and lean on the window.
“And I specifically asked you not to go near the bar.” He exhales and pulls his shirt off. I stare at his muscular chest and stomach and pull myself up.