The flash of jealousy I feel slice up my spine is a hot and sharp thing. Are they sleeping together? In a relationship? For how long?
“I suppose I better help Kevin,” Clarence says, his voice full of reluctance. He moves to where the crowd is dispersing, returning inside now that the brawl has been all but broken up.
“I’ll see you inside,” I say, but he’s already gone, helping Stephan stand and ordering security to separate the other four men.
“What a bunch of fucking losers,” one blonde-haired white woman says as she steps in front of me to return to the bar. She smells of hairspray, and I can see her ribs through her jumpsuit.
“Like, seriously,” a woman with a full afro says beside her. “So pathetic.”
Couldn’t agree more, I want to say. But I don’t. I keep my opinions to myself, and I try to douse the flame inside me that immediately sparked into life the very second I saw Pia.
CHAPTER 15
PIA
“Are you hurt?” Martin asks me again in the backroom of this bar, which I’ve already forgotten the name of.
“No, Jesus. I’m fine,” I lie. My hand is killing from that punch, but I keep it out of his sight.
“That was quite a swing you took at him,” Jon says from beside Martin.
Great. I’ve gone from no dad to two in one night.
“You didn’t hear what he said,” I mumble.
“No.” Jon sits down on the desk next to me. “What did he say?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I don’t look at him.
“You’re damn right it doesn’t matter,” Martin says, and all his concern for me has disappeared. “You can’t do shit like that, Pia.”
“Oh, but the boys can?” I gesture to the closed door, behind which God knows what state Geert and Jakob are in.
“No.” Martin pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant. But as a matter of fact, there is a difference between them getting in bar fights and you.”
“Oh, spare me, Martin,” I say. “Or I’ll swing for you next.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he says, but one corner of his mouth twitches.
“Try me.” I lift my eyebrows.
“Fuck, this is better than porn,” Jon says, adjusting the crotch of his trousers.
Martin and I both turn to him with disgusted expressions.
“Well, what’s done is done.” Martin sighs. “You’re going to be front-page news now, whether we like it or not.”
“It will sell records,” I say half-heartedly. ‘What I Want’ is already doing better than I expected. Worryingly good, actually. Like, I can’t ignore it good, and that is fucking up my plan.
“It better,” Martin warns.
“Well, now that we’ve all made up, can we go and get a drink? I’m gasping!” Jon stands. “Also, I need a better look at Miss Cassie Tits-For-Days Everard.”
“A better look?” I ask, again without making eye contact. “Is she here already?”
“Oh, yeah. Did you not see her at the door? She saw you take Stephan out. She’s got this lovely salmon-pink number on tonight. Lots of cleavage. And hips.” Jon mimics an hour-glass shape with his hands.
I choose to ignore him because my hand isn’t strong enough to thump anyone else just yet.