Page 59 of Rose

The Miami night buzzed with life, but it was the crowd outside the building on the corner that pulled him in like gravity.

William had just left the bar, planning to head home, lay low, disappear back into the shadows like he always did. But the music—deep, pulsing, alive—spilled into the street, and the energy vibrated through him.

He told himself to keep moving. He had to keep a low profile.

It had been a year since the Evermore incident, and while the world thought he was dead, he was very much alive, and very wanted.

But nobody could find him in Miami. Not after he’d erased his past. New name.

New face. New history, courtesy of his tech genius.

He’d forged every document down to the barcode. He was a ghost.

And for the first time in a long time, his past wasn’t chasing him.

Still, something about the place tugged at him. A need he couldn’t name.

He followed the sound to a shop called The Escape Room. The name alone felt like a message from the universe. People danced outside, laughed, flirted, admired canvases propped against the walls. It wasn’t just a tattoo shop—it was a vibe. Art. Ink. Escape. All of it bleeding into the night air.

William nodded at the security posted at the entrance. The man gave a subtle nod back and let him through.

Inside, the energy wrapped around him like smoke—heavy with music, creativity, and something else… freedom.

“Welcome to The Escape Room,” a caramel-toned woman greeted him from behind the front desk, her tone professional but warm.

“Enjoy the art, maybe buy a piece. If you’re here to get tatted, just sign this form, and I’ll get you to the next available artist. Tattoos and piercings are half-off if you put in an offer for any art you see.

If not, no pressure—just vibe, eat, and let us help be your escape. ”

Your escape.

Her name tag read Taylor, and her smile beamed with ease. William returned it, genuinely.

“It’s my first time here,” he said.

“Ouuu, we love newbies!” Taylor lit up. “You’re gonna have a grand time. I’m gonna make sure you get the full experience. I’ll set you up with our best artist.”

He nodded, took the pen, and wrote his name down. For once, he didn’t overthink it. His whole life was built on escape, but tonight, maybe he’d actually feel it.

Just as he set the clipboard down, a soft, commanding voice approached behind Taylor.

“Taylor, make sure Q at the front knows to cut the line once we reach capacity.”

He looked up—

And time. Stopped.

She wasn’t just beautiful .

She was otherworldly.

Brown skin glowing like rich honey beneath the ambient lights. Natural hair cascading down her back. A black Escape Room hoodie hugging her frame. High-waisted jean shorts showing off long, toned legs. Nike Dunks laced up like she could paint or fight in them, and win at both.

William’s breath caught. His first thought: I just saw Heaven.

“This is the owner,” Taylor said, motioning to her. “We also have a newbie in the shop tonight.”

She smiled, and his soul left his body.

That smile? That was it. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Got it,” the woman said, then turned toward him, her eyes briefly locking with his.

And for the first time in years, William felt seen—not as a fugitive, not as a ghost, but as a man.

And he wanted to be seen.

The sound of her voice snapped him out of it, but her image stayed burned behind his eyes.

He didn’t know her name.

But he would.

“Hi, newbie. What’s your name?” she asked, flashing him a smile that hit him harder than any bullet ever could.

“William,” he replied, trying to keep his voice cool. “And I must say… you’re very beautiful.”

Both women chuckled—Ahzii softly, like she’d heard it before but didn’t take it too seriously.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone polite but unreadable. “I’m Ahzii. Co-owner of the place.” She leaned over the counter slightly, scanning the long list of tattoo inquiries. “I see you signed up for some ink?”

“Only if you’re doing it,” he said without hesitation, voice low and smooth.

For a man used to surviving hell, being near her felt like a sliver of Heaven.

Ahzii raised a brow, amused. “I’m pretty booked—”

“Actually…” Taylor cut in, already grinning with that signature matchmaking mischief. “You’re open. Yori took the last client, and I can hold it down out here with the showcase.”

Ahzii shot Taylor a playful glare, but it was too late. The trap had been set.

Taylor had always tried to nudge her toward dating, especially since Ahzii practically lived in the shop. Between the murals, machines, and managing, love had been the last thing on her mind. But Taylor never gave up, and now, apparently, neither did fate.

“Looks like you’re free,” William said, his voice low and flirtatious, eyes already tracing every detail of her like he was memorizing her presence.

Ahzii met his gaze—steady, assessing. He was handsome. Tall, brown-skinned, with smooth locs tucked beneath a fitted hat. His shoulders were broad, his vibe mysterious, but calm. Dangerous, maybe. Her type. Unfortunately.

But this was work. Not a date.

“I see,” she murmured, her eyes sliding to Taylor, who wore a smug grin of success.

Ahzii sighed softly, then turned toward the hallway. “Right this way.”

William followed, his footsteps light, but his gaze... heavy.

He tried to play it cool, but his eyes betrayed him. The way her shorts hugged her curves, the gentle sway of her hips, the toned muscle in her thighs, it all had his thoughts doing backflips.

She led him to a room with a red-and-gold crescent rose on the door. As she opened it, vibrant light spilled out.

“Welcome to The Rose Room,” she said with a professional calm.

William stepped inside, and immediately paused.

The space was alive.

Art covered every inch of the walls—paintings, sketches, even a neon sign that read “Escape or Die Trying.” A snack station was tucked into the corner, and a massive TV played a muted anime film on the wall.

The centerpiece, though, was the sleek black tattoo chair beneath a rose-shaped light fixture, casting warm shadows over the room.

“This is all your work?” he asked, eyes scanning the wall with awe.

“Well... most of it,” she replied, pulling on gloves and setting out her tools. “Some pieces are my brother’s, some are Taylor’s, and a few came from artists we’ve collaborated with from all over.”

William nodded, still looking around.

It didn’t feel like a shop. It felt like her soul had been poured into the walls. And for a man who’d been running for years, the strangest thought crossed his mind: He didn’t want to leave.

It didn’t take long for Ahzii to start his tattoo. This wasn’t William’s first time under the needle, but it was the first time he found himself distracted—not by the pain, but by the woman wielding the machine.

She was breathtaking.

They joked and laughed as she worked, effortlessly falling into a rhythm of conversation and comfort. Her presence was disarming. He hadn’t felt peace in years, but in this moment, it found him.

“So, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” William asked, watching her sketch with a practiced hand.

She smirked without looking up. “Your people never told you not to ask a woman her age?”

He chuckled, caught off guard by her charm. “I never had ‘people.’ My parents died when I was three. It was just me and my brother after that. We’re... not close. So it’s really just been me.”

He wasn’t sure why he shared that.

Maybe it was her softness.

Her quiet strength.

Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a monster in someone else’s presence.

“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that,” she said gently. “I’m twenty-six. Be twenty-seven in a few months. ”

William smiled.

“And how old are you?” she asked, side-eyeing him like she was trying to figure him out.

He laughed. “Way older than twenty-six.”

“Pfft. I highly doubt that,” she said, glancing up at his face. “You look young—like, I’ll guess... twenty-eight?”

“I’m thirty-six,” he said.

She damn near choked on her own spit.

“Damn! That was a graceful way of calling me old,” he joked.

“No, no! I just didn’t expect that. You look young,” she said, recovering with a smile. “Black don’t crack, huh?”

“Exactly,” he grinned.

They slid right back into conversation, light, effortless. She talked about art, her favorite tattoos she’d done, stories of crazy clients. He mostly listened, soaking her in, memorizing every gesture, every laugh, every subtle expression she made while working.

Then something caught his attention.

His eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where a black monitor showed frozen footage of the lobby.

“Do you know your cameras aren’t working?” he asked, voice shifting slightly.

Ahzii looked up from the tattoo, blinking. “Yeah. My brother’s supposed to bring someone by tomorrow to fix them.”

William nodded, filing that detail away. Cameras were his thing. Tech was his thing. It was what had made him dangerous, and what kept him hidden. But for once, he wanted to use it for something good.

“I can fix them for you,” he offered.

Her eyes lifted, surprised. “You know how to fix cameras? What do you do again?”

“I never told you what I do, Beautiful,” he said with a slow smirk. “But yeah. I know how. I work in cyber-security.”

Lie.

But she didn’t need the truth, not tonight.

She raised a brow, clearly amused. “How much you gonna charge me?”

“Free,” he said, bold now. “If you let me take you on a date.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not in a position to date right now. I’m too busy.”

“I can see that,” he said, eyes softening. “So how about this… I’ll fix your cameras. Free of charge. Then I’ll leave my number. And when you’re not too busy, you hit me up.”

He grabbed a pen and paper from the counter, scribbled his number, and handed it to her like a man placing all his hope in a single shot.

Ahzii looked at the paper, then at him.

She didn’t smile. Not at first.