Page 18 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“It’s more for me than anyone else,” Eli said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Hard to believe it happened over five years ago.” He took a deep breath. “But Vera reminds me to smile.” The young man tried to enact his words, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

That’s something Adrian knew he couldn’t do—cover his anger with a prettier emotion. If it meant he could get revenge, he’d march into hell itself. He held back a scowl and gave Eli a nod of acknowledgment. “That she does.”

“When’s the last time you got a line-up, dear?” Vera asked, directing the question to Eli.

Eli ran a hand over his tight curls and laughed. “Well, I did try to shave before stopping in today. Didn’t spend much time with a mirror, though.”

“Why don’t you take a minute to get sharpened up? I’m sure Adrian wouldn’t mind,” she said. Of course, it wasn’t really a question.

“Sure,” he answered and motioned for Eli to come to the barbershop section of the salon. “Won’t take long.”

Both forced to accept Vera’s kindness, Eli unzipped his coat and settled down, while Adrian took out a razor.

“You enjoy working here?” Eli asked.

“I do,” Adrian replied. “It’s convenient—Vera reminds me to get a cut before my mom can say anything.” They both laughed. “Also, it’s not far from the college.”

“Oh nice,” Eli replied. “That school shit is tough, man.”

“Don’t I know it,” Adrian chuckled as he wrapped the styling cloth over Eli’s shoulders. A red design carved into the tile hanging from Eli’s neck instantly caught his attention.

“That’s a unique necklace,” he commented, wondering if it meant what he thought it did.

Last he knew, members of the Red Dragon motorcycle club identified themselves with tattoos on their skulls, not tiles on a string. Nor did Eli look like he came from the right side of the block, the side who came from Asian roots and worshiped the Yu family—though even inside their own community, most secretly despised the gang’s influence.

“Oh,” Eli said, twisting the necklace between his fingers. “This is uh—” He cleared his throat and glanced at Vera.

“You can tell him,” she said with a wave of the hand. “Adrian’s not one to gossip.”

“I found it next to her,” Eli said in a low voice, as if someone outside might hear. “I know I should have gone to the police, but it was just a piece of junk in a park, and I—I had to keep something. The red made me think of fate.” He paused, then took a breath. “That maybe she’s in a better place. It was weeks before we got her belongings back, and I haven’t been able to get rid of it ever since.”

Mind reeling, Adrian began to piece together things Eli must not have realized. Things that he’d been looking for all these years. He’d never gotten involved with the club, but Royal Flush wasn’t discreet about their long-standing rivalry with the Dragons, either.

“I understand,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as if they were discussing what angle to cut his hair.

It might be someone else’s trash, simply a discarded game piece.

Or it could’ve been more. A signature. The link that had gone unaccounted for. As soon as he got off work, he needed to call Raptor.

And he was going to be late to Caspian’s party.

NINE

“What do you mean you can’t tell me about the dragon tile?” Adrian scowled into the phone. Bitter smoke tumbled from his lips as he kicked chunks of ice around the back of his apartment complex.

Maybe he should’ve followed his first instinct and barged straight into Beta Rho, demanding answers. Even if Jace hadn’t become an official Red Dragon, he’d be the one to snitch. Cowards parading as tough guys always caved first. Besides, he had no issues roughing him up again.

“I mean,” Raptor replied on the other line. “You chose not to be initiated. I can’t discuss club business with anyone outside of Royal Flush, especially about the Dragons. You know that.”

“Bullshit,” Adrian spat, almost snapping the cigarette when his hand clenched into a fist. “You told me the shooting wasn’t a club matter, and if it had been, President Cortez would’ve retaliated—Luke was his son, for crying out loud. This has to be something else. It means something, and I need to know.”

Whatever triggered the events that led to the death of his father and childhood friend, he had to find out. Maybe it’d been something small, like a side deal gone wrong, or it could’ve been something worse, like a spilled secret. Whatever it was, however that tile had gotten next to that girl’s body, it hadn’t been a fluke.

Raptor hesitated. “Like I said—”

“I’m aware of the rules.” Adrian cut him off with a scoff, followed by another drag on the burning roll of tobacco. He’d known Raptor since middle school, when he started working under his father at the club’s mechanic shop. But ever since Raptor took the VP cut, they’d seen each other less and less. “You’re telling me I finally found a piece of the puzzle—finally have a chance to avenge my family and get us some goddamn peace—and I need to become a criminal to get your help? That I need to sell what’s left of my soul in order to heal the thing that broke it in the first place?”

Adrian exhaled, his vision blurring between the grey smoke and dirty piles of parking lot snow. Several streetlamps clicked on and chased off gathering darkness. “My sister may be able to deal with the club’s activities, but I have to think further down the line, R. I have to make sure mom’s taken care of. I need to be there to bail your ass out when things go wrong, and all I need is one damn answer.”

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