Page 25 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

ZAYN

“Are you sure this is it?” Keaton glanced down at the glittering white marble tiles swirled with gold we were walking across to reach the reception desk.

Someone had buffed this floor until it was almost difficult to look down with the sunshine blasting through the glass front doors.

In the middle of the lobby there was a burbling fountain made of clear glass displaying gold pebbles and goldfish swimming around in the base.

Gold Mind and Body Spa was painted on the side in flashy gilded script.

There was a real theme here. I rolled my eyes.

The place had taken forever to reach. It was out in the boonies past the south side of the city, and I was a bit surprised by what we’d found—but not completely. Some of the most dewy-eyed people sold drugs.

I’d seen it all by this point.

“Zayn, are you sure we’re in the right spot?” Keaton’s tone had an edge to it.

“Yeah.” I slapped his shoulder. “The phone number you have is associated with the spa. Come on.” I picked up the pace to the desk.

Keaton kept close at my side as we made our way toward a woman with two braids, one red and one pink, who’d slouched down in a giant white leather chair behind the desk.

She mindlessly scrolled on her phone and didn’t look up until I cleared my throat.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and smoothed down the lines of her flowy white sundress.

“Welcome to a golden experience,” she chirped, tossing down her phone.

“Can we see Goldie, please?” I smiled. It never hurt to start out polite.

Keaton gripped the edge of the desk until the wood creaked, and the woman’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Mr. Gold is currently leading a meditation session in the Sun Room, but I can put you in the Moon Room and bring you some calming tea. How does that sound?” Her breathy laugh was so nervous I glanced around, but her gaze was glued on Keaton’s hands.

The knuckles were white. I grabbed his elbow so he would stop torturing the furniture.

“Love that plan for us,” I said with a smile.

“Super!” She hopped to her feet and flashed a nervous grin. She gestured for us to follow her, which left us with no choice.

The Moon Room had a reflecting pool in the center surrounded by marble benches. We took a seat, and she hurried off, her shoes slapping softly against the floor.

“Being a drug dealer pays good.” He glowered around and kicked his feet, which made a high-pitched noise and left a black scuff on the overdone floor.

“Eh. It might be a side thing. These kinds of places always attract high-end customers. People who want to relax but have no idea how to do it. People who want to put pep in their step.” Irritation began to bubble inside me.

And there was always someone willing to prey on those desperate people searching for pieces of their youth. Or to counter deteriorating health.

Keaton grunted. “Then, why sell drugs if you’re already doing fine?”

Sighing, I sat back and rested my weight on my hands, staring deep into the silver pool.

Under different circumstances, it really would be meditative.

“Usually? Because people enjoy drugs. Even successful people can’t always kick the habit.

They just ruin a different tax bracket worth of lives.

There are people outside the trailer park addicted to all kinds of stuff. ” I nudged him with my elbow.

Keaton grunted. I had no idea why, but that sound coming from him was adorable.

“I have nothing against people who are hooked. It’s assholes who take down other people’s ships who piss me off.” I tapped my feet on the floor and stared at the ripples that shivered the pool.

He stared at me, and I realized I’d perhaps shared too much. My face heated.

“Who?” Keaton asked. And we both knew what he meant. Who died? Who had I lost? Or perhaps he didn’t suspect my history, but crazily, for the first time, I wanted to share.

I stared right back at him, and he didn’t look away.

The moment was broken when the woman returned, a helper dressed just like her in tow.

The younger woman had jet black hair in a dancer’s bun high on her head.

My throat constricted. She lowered a dark wooden table trimmed in gold that probably cost more than the trailer I’d pulled Keaton and Ginny from.

They proceeded to set up a full tea service as if we were the Queen of England, complete with fancy china cups.

“Uh, thanks,” I said.

The woman with the braids glanced up and gave us a dazzling smile. “Mr. Gold will be available in fifteen minutes. Please, clear your mind and recuperate while you wait.” The ladies retreated quickly.

Keaton huffed as he glared after them. “I don’t know about her hippy garbage, but I guess this is peaceful.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t help myself. I took his hand and celebrated the victory as he let me.

We stared at the water for a few minutes, but emotions continued to boil inside me.

“It was my mom, too.” I picked up my cup of tea, a green earthy brew, and sipped.

“Your mom?” He gave my hand a squeeze.

“She was a ballerina when she was young. Toured with a dance troupe and everything. And she was thin and beautiful. And when I knew her, she was still drop-dead gorgeous. People on the street would stop and stare sometimes. She was just amazing. Shining personality.” My hand shook and I set down the delicate cup.

“But she never lost this idea of how she was supposed to look . When I was young, she put on some weight. Not much. Not anything most people would notice. But she did and hated it. She started taking pills. Over-the-counter stuff at first. Then, she found a quack doctor who gave her shit that made her shiver and shake while she was sitting still. Legal amphetamines. She still didn’t lose the weight.

Then, a friend told her cocaine was the ticket. ”

Keaton’s arm was heavy as it landed across my shoulders. “She died?”

I nodded. “Not right away. I was sixteen and mostly functional when it happened.” I snorted.

“She spiraled. Lost weight all right, but also lost her personality. She became self-absorbed in a way she never was before then. She’d always been the light of my dad’s life, but she didn’t care what he was doing.

Didn’t care about what I was doing in school.

Dad started working all hours. He couldn’t stand to see his wife disappearing.

She wouldn’t go to rehab. He was a financial analyst. Had a head for investing.

So, no matter how much she spent, it didn’t dent her funds. ”

Keaton knocked his head against mine and it hurt just the right amount. “She didn’t have being broke to save her from herself. That’s what you’re saying?”

I nodded, throat tight. “In the end, it was a heart attack. Dad lost it. He’d been hanging on by a thread for a long while. He...went after the man selling to her. They shot each other. Both dead within minutes.”

Keaton’s breath escaped in a rush. He held me close, and I could feel him shudder.

“But that stopped other people from dying like Mom, you know?” I said roughly. “My dad was a hero.”

Keaton rested his cheek on my head, and I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but I was frozen in place, reliving those last years with Mom.

I never thought about it anymore. Most days there was a weird hole that lived in my head regarding the past. That’s how I was a mostly happy person. I just totally avoided it.

Well, except for my hobby.

What had brought this out now?

Keaton pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and a thousand emotions I had been successfully ignoring began to batter at the dam in my head holding them back.

“Was it worth it for you to lose them both?” he whispered. He sounded serious, so I met his gaze head-on.

“Any story where both of the lovers die is a tragedy .” The words barely scraped out of my throat. “But I like to look for the good that might have come out of what he did. It’s my sanity.”

His eyes widened.

“Greetings, new friends!” A cheerful voice bounced around the room.

The man who glided toward us with a hip roll wasn’t far off from what I had expected, dressed in flowing black pants with gold swirls.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which allowed him to show off his tight muscles.

The sunshine that spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a nearby meadow glinted off his long blond hair.

I got the feeling it was bleached so he could match the décor, but if that was how he wanted to spend money every few weeks, that was his own business.

But, more importantly, he was the picture of vibrance and health. There was no way this guy was sampling the product. I fought back a frown.

“You Goldie?” Keaton asked, standing to loom over the poor guy.

His smile wilted. “I’m Prosper Gold. You must be looking for my father.” A wrinkle formed on his brow and his Cupid’s-bow lips pulled down in a sad little scowl. “Please, don’t come here again. I try not to judge, you understand, but it disrupts my business.”

“Sure. Just let us talk to him, since we drove all this way,” I said, joining Keaton.

Prosper nodded and brushed his hair back off his shoulders. “Technically, the spa is his, but I’ve been running it for about ten years.” He glanced around with a wistful smile. “He used to be very invested in his work.”

“Today, dude,” Keaton said.

Prosper’s spine stiffened as he marched out of the room, and we hustled after him.

We went outside via a side door, and he led us through the meadow full of flowers and beyond the tree line to a rundown small cabin in a gulley.

I had a feeling that if Prosper could pick this sucker up and shift it farther out of the way, he would do it, even though it was out of sight of the main building.

“This is more like it,” I muttered.