Page 71 of Born for Lace

If he will tolerate it.

Lagos spins around with his arms open wide. “Anyone else have anything to say?” He pauses, and everyone in the room tries to melt into their chairs. “No?Good.No one comes in the back room. We will be occupying it for the night.”

“B-but.” The man who first slammed his fist on the bar now wipes the sweat from his forehead. “I need an exchange for this?—"

“I will leave you a crate of dried fish as. Fucking. Always!” Lagos booms, rounding on him. “Don’t insult me.”

The man visibly trembles, head lowered and hunched forward over the bar as though he wishes to disappear into his own shoulders. “Easy, Lagos.”

“Come with me,” Tomar says, his voice clipped and tight, guiding me through the bar to a door set in a far corner.

It opens to a narrow hallway, lit from above with a flickering light and walled with aged paper, the top corners folding over like bunny ears.

As we shove open a door and walk inside, the shift in pressure lifts dust particles from various boxes and furniture. The back room is chaotic. I sneeze.

Crates are stacked carelessly along one wall, each balancing on the cusp of toppling over. I scan the space, spotting a single bed buried under bags and suitcases. Some unzipped and open, others layered on top of each other. The room is cluttered, and I wonder how the space is used.

“Take the bed. Get some sleep.” Tomar waves to a couch buried by clothing. “I’ll sleep there.”

I stare at a strange stain in the centre of the bed. Just the sight of it makes me want to throw up. “I should be getting used to this.” Discomfort tugs at me.

“Oh, Dahlia.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being unappreciative.”

“You’re not supposed to be used to this.” Tomar moves toward me and touches my cheek. Stroking the corner of my mouth, he says, “Smile more. You have the loveliest smile.” I appease him with a subtle smile. “You’ll be at the Common Community soon. A safe place to raise Spero. Far away from this violence. I know that his brutal ways are hard to stomach, but those girls shouldn’t have spoken about you like that.”

I wasn’t even thinking about Lagos or what happened in the bar at that moment, but apparently, he was. And now, I don’t want to appear insensitive or disappoint him with my selfish concerns.

Deep breath. I nod with assurance, holding his gaze, but notice a huge dark shape in the doorway behind him.

Lagos is frozen in the gap, brows drawn in tight, spearing his black gaze at Tomar’s hand. “Have I interrupted something, Tomar?”

Tomar drops his hand from my cheek. “I think Dahlia needs some privacy to feed Spero.” With a quick turn, he starts toward the doorway, having to shoulder past Lagos, who refuses to move an inch.

After Tomar leaves, there is an uneasy pause, almost like the room itself takes a sharp breath in and holds it.

Alone with Lagos…

Swallowing, I divert my attention to the bed. A dull ache in my side reminds me how utterly useless I am. And yet, I need to move these cases.

Behind me, I hear the sound of Lagos’ boots drumming the floors as he approaches. “I have a clean sheet and spare clothes. Used but clean.” He stops behind me. I spin around, forced to arch my neck to meet his sharp, dark gaze. “I made sure of that.”

His closeness makes me silly.

“I’m missing underwear.” I can’t believe I just said that. So I add, “I mean. I only have two pairs. Do you think we can find some somewhere?”

“Missing?”

“I mean, they were left in my room, I think.”

“Hm.” Then he turns his hulking body to leave.

Panic lodges in my throat.

What if he goes to one of those girls for company?

Is affection sickening? Because nausea rolls through my belly as the memories of Lagos thrusting into that girl, needing her, inside her, all over her. And Sweets’ words of admiration and esteem;‘He can fuck for a full day. We close The House when he’s in a mood like this.’

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