Page 68 of Kept

“Like my phone,” Mav reminds her. “You can use different things to find what you need and have it delivered here. It’s a good idea.”

She looks dubious. “Like… clothes? Through the screen?”

Everything is so damnnewto her. Considering I’m so jaded about just about everything in life, Zella is a breath of fresh air in comparison.

Yet another reminder that we’re worlds apart, whatever Enzo thinks.

I head to grab my laptop from my room, bringing it back and opening it up on the counter. Zella’s eyes widen as the screen comes on. “It’s so bright!”

I glance at the generic beach background. “I guess so.”

It only takes a few strokes to bring up a search for a large department store. Zella’s eyes get bigger by the second as I start scrolling through, showing her the different styles and types. “You can get all of this… on the line?”

“Online,” I correct her, biting my lip to hide my smile. “It’s called the internet.”

“Wow,” she whispers. “I only knew about phone calls. Not all of this.”

I wave my hand at the screen. “You can choose whatever you want.”

She takes a hesitant step forward and touches the pad, her hand making a tiny movement that doubles the screen size and makes her jump back, snatching her hand away. “I don’t think it likes me.”

“You just need to get used to it.” Sitting next to her and breathing in that flowery scent, I open up the section for tops and slowly scroll through, watching her face. When it changes, I stop. “You like this one?”

Maverick chokes. It’s a bright gold silky-looking halter neck with large, dangling sequins. Mildly aghast, I flick my eyes to Zella. She’s practically got hearts in her eyes as she stares at it. “I could wear that?”

“Please no,” Maverick mutters, and I shoot him a glare. If Zella wants to wear feathers and tar, then she damn well can. Taking a guess at her size, I put it in the basket.

It takes a few more minutes of coaxing, but we all sit back and watch as Zella hunches over the screen, feverishly flicking through the pages and crowing with increasing joy when she spots something she likes. Everything she likes is on the vibrant side.

“Uh…princess?” I offer, when she lingers over a particularly hideous bright purple and green playsuit with orange lightning stripes. “Maybe we should get you some basics, too.”

She glances around, her eyes taking in the decidedlynotrainbow colors we’re all wearing, and her shoulders slump. “Oh. Yes, probably.”

God fucking damn it. I add the playsuit to the basket too.

Maverick gives me a death glare. Enzo ignores us all, working his way through his third bowl of cereal as he watches Zella like she’s going to vanish if he takes his eyes off her for a single second.

When I check the time, I’m disappointed at how much time has passed. “Sorry, princess. I need to head out for a little while. Rain check?”

She nods, and Maverick seizes the opportunity to snag the laptop. “Why don’t we grab some of those basics now?”

Before I leave, Zella reaches out, touching my arm. Her fingers close over my skin, warm through the end of my bottle green shirt. “You’re going to work?”

I give her an easy smile, not letting my disgust at the task ahead of me seep through. “That’s the plan. Try not to miss me too much. Maybe these two will put on a movie if you ask them nicely.”

Enzo looks like I’ve just proposed a tooth extraction, but Zella bounces in her chair with excitement, so he stops short of telling us all exactly what he thinks of that idea. She doesn’t let go of me, though, and I glance down. “Mind if I have my arm back, princess?”

She blushes, but her fingers release my sleeve. “Just… be careful. Please?”

She has no idea what I’m going to be doing, but her concern makes something flip over in my chest. “Always am.”

With a final wink, I slip away. Leaving them to their cozy evening, I liberate Enzo’s bike again and hit the road, speeding into the city.

I hit my first road bump when I knock on the door at Club X. The bouncer gives me a closer look than he did before, the search much more thorough this time around. They still manage to miss the little camera built into my cufflinks, and I tidy them as I stroll through the club.

Something is definitely off. The staff look a little more wary this time, some of the serving girls a little too pale as they grit their teeth against the wandering hands and plaster too-tight smiles across their faces.

When I try to wander down to the underground level where I saw Moore before, I’m stopped again.

---