Arranged love

APRIL

I STAND IN Jasmine’s bathroom, curling my hair. The room is bigger than my master bedroom. It has heated floors and a marble counter. His and her sinks. She stands in front of one while I’m in front of the other. The whirlpool bathtub sits off to the right of us with the large shower behind it that you can enter from either side. I looked inside, and there are five showerheads. There’s a fireplace in the corner that is see-through into her master suite. I’d never leave this bathroom.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I turn to face her.

“Sure. I’m an open book.” She pops the lid off her lipstick.

“What did Haven mean by Luca would never allow her to go to the Airport? Is he really controlling? I remember that there was a guy who you mentioned was her babysitter when we were at lunch that first time I met her.” I think they said his name was Nite.

“Luca runs the Las Vegas American-Italian mafia.”

I gasp. Holy shit! Derek was right! “You’re serious?” He had said that Bones had an in with the mafia. And Luca was on the phone talking about going to Kingdom. Could that be the connection? If so, then that means he’s got to be close to Grave as well.

“Yep.” She nods. “Don’t you ever watch the news? Their engagement was a big deal.”

“No,” I say honestly, going back to my hair somewhat in a daze.

“Well, a lot of people would love to get their hands on Haven to get to Luca. So although to some, he may appear controlling or possessive, he’s really just keeping her safe.”

“I can see that.” I can’t imagine the kind of life where you’re always having to look over your shoulder or never knowing who is after your husband. Or yourself. Wanting a family but afraid to bring a child into that world.

“Are you ready for that kind of life?”

I set the curling iron down and look over at her. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean …” She pops her nude-colored lips. “That being with a King could have the same ramifications. They’re powerful but also hated by many. Being with one could make things difficult. For you. For him.”

“Are you asking me if I’m in love with Grave and willing to risk my life for that?” That’s what I take from her cryptic words.

She gives me a quick side-eye. “Are you?”

“No,” I answer, shaking my head.

She sets down her lipstick and turns to face me, a smirk on her face as if she knows some secret. “So you’re willing to walk away from him?”

I go to say yes but shut my mouth. “I mean … I like him.”

She places her hand on my shoulder. “Do you like him enough to fight for him?”

My mother raised my brother and me to fight for what you want, but you also can’t make someone love you. They either want you in their life or they don’t. You can’t keep what doesn’t belong to you. “What exactly am I fighting?” I ask confused.

“Lucy. I know she would do anything to have him, however she could have him. Even if that meant being a side piece.”

“You’re saying he’s not the type to be faithful?” Is anyone? I’m not going to put Grave in a category with just men. Women cheat too. I’ve never done it because I’ve had it happen to me, and it hurt. I don’t understand why a man or woman can’t just be honest with the person they’re with and say I don’t want to be with you anymore.

“No, you’re putting words in my mouth.” She sighs. “I’m just saying that you need to decide what you want. Either take it or let her have it.” She shrugs. “Because honey, that choice is a hundred percent yours.”

She walks off to enter her closet. Grave doesn’t make me feel like I have to compete or there is a race I’m desperately trying to win. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I know Lucy still calls him. The question is, does he call her after he leaves me? And if he does, how would that make me feel? Pretty fucking pissed if I’m being honest with myself!

He’s supposed to be mine, right? We’ve only had one official date, but who the fuck has time to date anymore? I don’t need to get dressed up and go to an expensive dinner for someone to prove they like me. I just need quality time with them, and we’ve done that. Every chance we’ve gotten. I feel comfortable around him and can be myself. He’s saved me. He’s saved my dream. That means more than lobster and steak. The way his lips kiss mine make me melt. The way he touches me sets me on fire. And I know I do the same to him. He can’t stop because he keeps coming back for more.

Is it just sex for him? I can’t answer that. Only he can. But he did say he was staying around as long as I wanted him to.

I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath. I don’t want to share him. I want to be selfish.

Making up my mind, I pull my eyeliner out of my makeup bag and put on a couple more layers top and bottom before grabbing my hair and teasing the crown to give it a little more volume.

“How’s this look?”

I turn to see Jasmine wearing a black crop top, hanging off one shoulder, revealing a black lace bra strap in a pair of denim shorts and fishnet tights. “Dammmmnn.” I approve. The woman is hot.

“You think?”

My eyes drop to her legs. “What happened to your knees?” I ask.

She growls. “I gave head last night. Fucked my knees all up.”

“On what? Gravel?”

She lets out a sigh. “That’s why I wore the fishnets. To try to hide them better. Are they that bad?”

I shake my head. “No. I just noticed the right one …” The left isn’t as bad. But you can see they’re bruised, and one has a pretty good cut. “I hope you got yours too,” I add.

She gives me a smile. “Oh, he delivered.” The smile drops off her face. “Then he went and fucked it all up.”

_______________

She drives us about thirty minutes outside of Vegas. All I see is desert for most of it, but then sure enough, there’s an airport in the middle of nowhere. It looks like McCarran on Thanksgiving break. Cars and trucks fill a large parking lot on the side. She pulls into a parking garage and takes us up to the sixth level. People walk around, getting on and off the elevators.

She finds a spot and pulls into it, shutting off the car. “Stay close to me,” she says.

“Is this place dangerous?” I suppose that’s a question I should have asked before we came. I would have packed Mace in my bag.

“It can get rowdy.” She nods, reaching in front of me and pops open her glove box. She grabs a knife, before slamming it shut. Then reaches into the back seat and grabs her purse, shoving the knife inside of it.

“Hey, ladies.” A guy whistles at us as we walk by his truck. He has the tailgate down and sits on it with two of his friends. You can smell the weed they’re smoking. “Wanna ride?” He grabs his crotch.

“Sorry, boys.” She reaches out, throwing her arm over my shoulders, pulling me into her side. “The only thing she’ll be riding is my face later.”

His eyes widen and one of his friends spits out his drink. “Can we watch?” he asks, hopeful.

I laugh at the fact he thought she was being serious.

“They’re all the same,” she whispers, shaking her head.

We walk across a sky bridge and enter the building. It looks exactly like an airport would. There are conveyor belts where luggage would ride, waiting for passengers to pick them up, but they look like they haven’t been used in years.

We step onto a moving sidewalk and come up to the terminals. I stop and walk over to one, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows to the runway. People crowd around while cars are lined up at the end. A woman stands before them with a green flag in her hands. “What are they doing?” I ask as Jasmine comes to stand next to me.

“Racing. They do it every night.” She turns and walks off, and I follow her.

We go down an escalator and walk through the building, passing more gates until we come up to what appears to have once been a food court. Looking down over a railing, I see an arena-like structure. A makeshift bar sits off to the right, and people are crowded around it.

Two men stand in the middle of the arena, fighting. It’s not like a UFC fight. This is more of a backyard kind of fight. One guy wears a hoodie and jeans while the other is in shorts and a wifebeater. No gloves or mouth guards.

We make our way downstairs and to the bar, ordering some drinks.

“Jasmine?”

She stiffens beside me as someone from behind us calls out her name. Turning around, she leans her back against the bar. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

I look over my shoulder to see a guy walk up to her with a smile covering his handsome face. Brown eyes look her up and down while he licks his lips, like he’s thinking of the past. “Oh, my God, babe.” He reaches out to hug her.

She places her hands up, stopping him. “Go away, Trenton.” She dismisses him and turns back to the bar just as the bartender sets two drinks down in front of us.

I reach into my purse to grab a twenty, but she sets a card down. “I want to start a tab,” she tells the guy.

He nods and takes it.

“Babe?” The guy behind us continues. “I’ve been calling you.”

“Yeah? How’s your wife feel about that?” she asks, not looking back at him.

My brows rise.

He makes his way next to her, placing his forearm on the bar. “I told you we’re getting a divorce.”

She laughs. “You always were a liar.”Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

He looks at me. Nodding his head, he winks. What the fuck, dude? “Hey, baby …”

“She’s dating Grave,” she informs him.

His eyes widen for a split second and then go back at her. “Jas, come on …”

“Go away, Trenton!” she snaps at him. “Or I’ll send screenshots of those pics of your cock that you keep sending me to your wife with the time stamp and dates.”

His jaw tightens, but that’s enough to make him storm off back into the crowd. “Divorcing his wife, my ass,” she hisses, then lifts her hand for the bartender.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t the guy from last night?” I ask.

She snorts. “No. The guy from last night isn’t married, but I’m not sure he’s any better.” She slaps the bar. “Fuck this drink. We need shots.”