Page 77 of Glorious Ruin
“I’m fine.” I chuckled, batting Silas’s hands away from my collar. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“You have a bandage the size of a brick on your jugular!” Silas argued, his voice pitching up a notch. “Let me see it!”
“No.” I laughed. “I’m fine. Seriously. Go hit the showers. We only have an hour before the pre-show meeting, and I want to relax for a bit. I’ll meet you in catering.”
Silas looked as if he wanted to argue, his protective instincts no doubt were in overdrive, but he trusted me. “Okay. Okay, fine. But I’m examining you the second I’m done.”
“I’m counting on it.” I smirked, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
When I hit catering, Lena was in the corner, stabbing at a plate of fruit while staring at her phone. “Who are we fighting with on the internet today?”
Lena jumped, her phone clambering against the table. “Dad! You scared me.” When she looked up at me, her eyes immediately zeroed in on the white square on my neck. She squinted, leaning across the table. “What happened to your neck? Did you shave a patch of your beard wrong and need a tourniquet?”
“Very funny.”
Evan showed up moments later, his blond hair slicked back and damp from the showers. He dropped a plate of grilled chicken on the table and sat down next to Lena, pointing a plastic knife at me. “Alright, out with it. What’s under the tape? Clearly Si isn’t responsible for it this time.”
“I’m not telling you anything,” I deflected, taking a sip of water. “I’m waiting for Silas.”
As if summoned by his name, Silas appeared dressed in his street clothes. He slid into the open seat next to me, reaching across the table to steal a grape off Lena’s plate.
With a loudsmack,Lena slapped the back of his hand without even having to look up from her phone. “I will literally end your title reign right here in catering, old man. Get your own fruit.”
Silas chuckled and rubbed his hand, but his attention didn’t stay on Lena. His gaze darted immediately back to my new hidden ink as he turned toward me in his chair.
“Okay, I’m done. Can I please see it now? This is killing me,” he pleaded.
A warm flutter erupted in my chest. He knew I couldn’t say no to him when he looked at me like that. “Fine, but you have to take it off yourself. Be gentle, the skin is sensitive.”
As Silas carefully pulled back the tape, the fresh, slightly raised, and still a bit bloody tattoo was revealed. Bold, black,undeniable.
Silas.
Mouth hung open and eyes fixed on my skin, Silas paled. Across the table, Evan choked violently on a mouthful of water, coughing and slamming his fist against his chest. Lena dropped her fork onto her plate, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
“Oh my God!” she gasped.
Silas didn’t speak. His hands shook as he quickly slapped the sticky bandage right back over the tattoo.
“Are you fucking insane!” Silas hissed, his eyes darting between Evan, Lena, and me. “Please, tell me it isn’t real! Tell me you drew it on with a Sharpie as a joke!”
I laughed, a loud, completely unbothered sound that earned a few looks from the table next to us. “It’s completely real, baby.”
Silas buried his face in his hands, laying them against the tabletop. “Cal! Presley is going to murder you! You are going to be fired before the show even goes on air!”
“Let him try,” I said smoothly, leaning back in my chair.
Lena stared at my neck, her eyes wide. “Uh, how are you going to cover that up? That’s going to take, like, industrial-grade special effects makeup. And even then, the sweat in the ring is going to wash it right off!”
“She’s right.” Evan finally caught his breath and wiped water from his chin. “It’s so high up. You’ve placed it in a spot where literally every single camera angle is going to catch it!” Evan stared at me, and realization dawned across his eyes. “There’s no way to hide it.”
I smirked back, reaching up and gently touching the edge of the bandage. My eyes drifted back to Silas, who stared at me with an expression of overwhelming admiration.
“I know.” My voice dropped into a low register. “That’s exactly how I wanted it.”
19
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
