The Castle of Gold [Bk 2]

ch.66 Mirrors

Zayn gave me his keys begrudgingly and we drove off.

“Where are we going?” Zayn asked through a cloud of smoke.

I coughed. “The airport,” I answered as we rounded the corner and saw a number of planes landing.

“Ok,” he nodded.

“Zayn,” I sighed and looked over at his cigarette.

“Ok, ok,” he grumbled and took one last drag before throwing it out the window.

I parked his car and we walked into the airport. A security guard adjusted his badge when Zayn and I walked to the international arrivals section.

Sleeves rolled up, black boots unlaced, eyes burning with a devilish smirk, Zayn leaned against the wall.

“I didn’t know someone was taking your picture, Fabio,” I laughed as I looked over at him. He was making one of his “smoldering” faces, the kind you see on Teen Vogue.

“Angie, it takes patience to be as pretty as me,” he grinned and he folded his arms over his chest.

I laughed even louder. The security guard from before looked over at us. Zayn nodded at him. The man adjusted the three strands of hair over his shiny head.

“You’ll get the hang of it one day,” Zayn teased. He reached for a strand of my hair and pulled it over my eye.

“There, now you’ve got an edge,” he laughed.

I pushed at his shoulder, ruining his balance. I moved one seat over. Zayn followed me. I pulled at a lock of his hair, messing up the symmetry of his quiff, but I might as well have held a gun to his head.

“I was only kidding, Angela,” he spoke through clenched teeth. He glared at me with his now blazing hazel eyes.

I swallowed hard.

He carefully matted the loose lock back into place.

He took a deep breath. Then he reached into his pocket for a cigarette to calm him but he remembered we were inside.

“Excuse me, miss, but is this man bothering you?” a man asked me as he tapped my shoulder.

I turned to see the guard that had been watching us since the moment we walked in. He had a chubby hand on his belt, patting it to emphasize his weapons.

“No,” I shook my head, slightly surprised at his concern. “Of course not.”

“We’re fine,” Zayn spoke up. He patted my shoulder.

The guard stood up straight and glared at Zayn as if he had uttered an insult.

“I believe I was asking the lady a question,” he spoke through gritted, yellowing teeth.

Zayn stood up and rolled his sleeves. “And I believe we were talking until you interrupted us,” Zayn spoke back.

“Oh, and when were you planning on telling her your uncle is Osama?”

“Excuse me?” Zayn glared at him in utter shock.

“You heard me,” the guard spoke firmly. “I know your type” he added rudely.

I stood up hesitantly and moved to the side. They seemed to have forgotten about me anyway.

“My type?” Zayn raised his voice.

“Coming in here with your cigarettes and your gold chains and God knows what explosives, tryna chat up good American girls like this young lady,” he hissed and he gestured towards me.