Page 81 of Ruling Scar
“Roma would like your red lipstick.”
She rolls her eyes, lifting her beer to her lips, and trying to act unbothered. In some ways I admire it, but the story of Ren and Roma is far from over.
“I think he’d like the heels too,” I add.
“You talk very big for a man currently in the doghouse.” She flicks perfectly styled hair over her shoulder.
“Doghouse?” I lean one shoulder against the wall, scanning the place.
Leonora meets my eyes before turning back to a tiara-wearing Isolde.
“You’re sporting a black eye and came alone.” Ren bites back a smile. “I didn’t get to where I am because I can’t read the room.”
An Avril Lavigne song blasts.
“The Stuarts aren’t moving in,” I say.
She nods, but her eyes never leave her friends. “Doesn’t meanhewasn’t planning to.”
Ren smiles at a passing woman and her shoulders remain relaxed. When the song blasts louder, she talks again. “She was freaked out when I saw her that night. Genuinely scared. The Stuarts might not be a problem, but he is.”
For a second she meets my eyes. We have a common cause, protecting Leonora, and I appreciate her for that.
“He’s more of a weasel than I thought.”
She lifts her brows at my admission but agrees. “Loose cannons are never good for business.”
Leopold’s family must not know what he’s up to, or else they’d put a stop to it. Likewise, no one in town wants to deal with one more criminally insane person.
“But you know, Elijah.” A mask Ren started to wear after Roma appears. She smiles as she says, “You fuck with Lennie and I’ll happily turn into a loose cannon.”
CHAPTER 19
Lennie
Why did I invite this sorry bastard to Isolde’s party?
All morning I waited for a text. For a phone call.
My phone lit up at one point and I jumped for it. Physically jumped toward the damn thing.
It was Roma. Roma of all people!
Roma: Just checking in. Are you okay?
I typed out ten different texts all along the lines of ‘Your brother is an asshole’ before settling on ‘Yes, thank you’.
It wasn’t until Ren called me about tonight that I remembered. And then I felt like shit for forgetting about my friend.
I used my lunch break to go to some fancy grocery store where I loaded up on British food brands, hoping it’d bring her some home comforts. She’s horrible to shop for because she might talk about random stuff but I’m not truly sure what she likes. Her hobbies are guns and I didn’t want to get her a gift related to work.
There’s no telling what the wrapped box in Elijah’s hands is.
“You look like fucking murder.” Isolde’s accent thickens when she drinks and there’s a warm glow to her. She laughs alot more when she drinks which is a nice change from the blank, bored expression she tries to keep on her face.
“You look like fucking murder,” I reply.
She laughs and Abe comes over. “I told you to fucking eat,” he says directly into her face.
