“Why are you here?” I ask when he catches me staring at him.
“I tried selling a car to the wrong guy.”
He admits, so that’s what he does with the cars. Craig, my boyfriend, had said the night of the race that this guy had won a few other cars before, but he always shows up without one of his own. He uses another dude’s car, and he never returns with the car he won. That’s a good scam he runs. Everything is legit, but yet it isn’t.
“You don’t say.” I tease.
“He wanted to leave without paying; it’s not my fault his face collided with my fist when I was trying to explain that it’s not how I do business.” He smirks.
“A simple misunderstanding, pinkie. I swear.” That silly nickname is starting to grow on me.
“And where is he now?” I ask, trulycurious at this point if the guy got to drive away with his brand-new car without paying. It’s kind of ironic to steal a car from someone who steals cars on a regular basis.
“Hey, Chad. Come say hi to the lady, you stupid bastard.”
Chadappears from behind the locked door of jail cell number three.They caught both of them.
“Hey.” Chad greets me while the other guy shoots him a warning look.
“That’s enough, Chad; go back to whatever you are doing in there.”
He says, without leaving room for questions. Chad shrugs and moves to the back of his cell again. The other guy smirks and turns to look at me, wiggling his eyebrows as if he is proud of how domesticated Chad is being right now. If we're being fair, though, Chad seems to be in a worsestate than the other guy. The realization that I don’t know his name hits me, so I ignore the Chad subject and turn my attention back to the green-haired god instead.
“So what’s your name, lover boy?” I say with a little smirk of my own as he takes a minute to process my question. It’s like I am the first person who has ever asked for his name ever because the question has shocked him more than it should. It’s a normal thing that everyone who meets you for the first time would ask, but still, lover boy seems to be considering his options. As if he has more than one, it’s not like eventually a cop will call his name and I will hear it.
“Ash.” He simply says after a while, and I smile.
“Nice to meet you, Ash. I am Nova.” He smiles in return, and it’s the most intoxicating smile I have ever seen.Fuck me.This guy is, without a doubt,one of the most handsome guys I have ever met. The fact that he is clearly a criminal also makes him my type.
“Nova Lopez.” The cop yells as he walks to my cell and opens the door. “Your bail has been paid.”
Great. Now I probably owe money I don’t have to whoever paid it. I exit the cell and walk behind the cop as he guides me to the front desk.
My sister is waiting there, looking like she doesn’t belong. Which would be the truth, as my sister is a housewife with a rich asshole for a husband and would never have any need to set foot in this police station. If it weren’t for her kid sister, I mean.
She got out of any family drama, upgrading her life in the process. If you ask me, that was a smart move, but I am sure no one would ask me. I don’t even see her anymore, other than theoccasional interaction at a family dinner on Christmas, which I have been purposely avoiding.
“Nova!” She calls, and I smile.
“Hey, Isabelle, I am sorry you had to come here.”
I truly am sorry. There was a reason I didn’t call her myself, but I guess I never actually took her off my emergency contact list, and someone here thought they were doing me a favor. When you're a woman in your twenties and you still look like I do, people seem to assume that you need to be rescued. They are eager to help you as if you were their personal project.
“It’s okay. That’s what family is for.”
She speaks in a low tone, as if she's trying to keep this personal. Shame flashes in her eyes. My sister has always been the most soft-spoken person I know. I've never once seen herlose her temper and yell at anyone. It’s clear that she's ashamed ofme, the black dot in her perfect little picture of a life.
It seems she has decided that the conversation is over and is now moving quickly to exit this building. It's as if she's afraid of turning into me if she stays one more minute here.
“Isabelle, wait.” I call for her as she heads for the door. She can’t wait to leave this place, and it is clear. Don’t get me wrong; I understand, but I have one more thing to do.
I turn to the cop behind the front desk.
“Hey, would it be possible to tell me the bail amount for Ash…” I pause, realizing I don’t actually know his last name. “I am sorry; I don’t know his last name. It’s the guy with the green hair.”
The lady in uniform behind the desk smiles at me and nods. Her fingers press on the keyboard as shesearches for the name in the database, then turns to me again.
“His name is Asher Miller.” The officer informs me with a smile and turns the screen to show me the total of his bail.
