CHAPTER 64: JINZO’S BLUE PILL BLUES

Nash tucked his phone in his pocket, a crooked little grin on his lips as he headed to Ironline District.

But before he got sucked into that circus, he had one thing to take care of.

Amara.

He wrote her a message, something quick about the team, the recruitment, the contract, and how goated his pocket was now.

Barely send and bam, instant reply. She was blowing up, just like Lina had.

Then, all spark and fire, she practically purred through the phone about meeting up, about rewarding him in a way he had become accustomed to.

Nash just laughed. Exactly what he was hoping for. But... after this meeting.

They agreed to meet in the Metro station.

Several minutes later, she was already posted up by the time he rolled in, strutting over like a pet having found its master.

Heads turned on her path, how could they not? Amara was very different than her usual street fashion style. She had on a killer jacket, jeans painted on, heels making music on the concrete, scarf loose and lazy at her neck.A good use of Nash’s money.

She slowed up as she reached him, but as the distance closened, her eyes widened.

She wasn’t the only one with a complete makeover.

Nash from two days ago and this Nash were night and day. Tall, jacked, handsome. The one calling himself her owner was candy to the eye.

Train doors hissed open. They squeezed on, crowd packing them in.

Nash got shoved up behind her, hand braced on the window so she wasn’t getting pancaked.

Her perfume tangled with the metallic grind of the rails, it was impressive what a little bit of money could do.

And it was only about 1/53 of what he could offer.

By next stop, more people entered, and suddenly he was right up against her, no wiggle room left.

"...Sorry," he muttered by reflex.

Then his brain caught up, Amara liked by dominated. He caught and dipped closer, voice all low and private right on her ear.

"Missed your smell."

She trembled outright, little shocks running through her body that he could feel against his chest.

Her breath quickened, fogging the glass as she leaned back into him.

He smiled, satisfied at how easily she melted. Yes , he could definitely navigate without the system at this point.

At least on the girls he had already been in a relationship with.

Then he widened his eyes. A subtle grind of her hips shifting, her ass rubbing against him, testing his reaction, teasing without shame.

He watched her reflection in the glass as she moved.

"Babe, I got a present for you..." She tugged her scarf down just enough to flash a slim collar with his nave engraved in it. "But you’ll only get it after you handle your business."

Nash let out a low whistle

"Good girl... smells like a gift with many zeros."

Amara’s mouth popped open in surprise, light just exploding across her face.

She wriggled, trying to spin around and throw her arms back for a hug, practically bouncing.

Nash cinched her in, smirk glued to his face as the train entered into Ironline.

A little later, the train came screaming into Ironhide, brakes howling. Doors pop open with that tired old hiss, and the whole crowd spilled out like water from a busted pipe.

Nash and Amara get pushed along with the tide, her scarf yanked up, her pale cheeks burning from whatever went down on that ride.

Nash got his hand at her back, steering her through the mess of commuters, then out into the city proper.

Ironhide was a monster of a district, like the place had a soul. Smokestacks stick up all jagged in the distance, steel beams everywhere, streets cracked and patched a hundred times.

It was all moving with old machinery and that leftover taste of industry. The hangars didn’t mess around either.

Rust, graffiti, big iron ribs poking up like something died here and just never left. And as they kept walking, it was almost like the world dialed itself down, commerce noise fading, just some kid’s ball bouncing, echoing way off.

Then they hit it. Hangar 47.

The doors were half down, metal curling at the edges, but inside? The place was alive. Nash squinted, taking in the chaos, Drex and Mac in the middle of an inside court, fighting for ground like it was the playoffs, sweat everywhere, voices sharp.

But there were more, four new faces, three men, one girl.

Off to the side, there was Jinzo, slumped and looking like he’d carved his scowl out of granite. Jaz’s beside him, hands awkward, just sitting there. And Nia stretched out across Jaz’s lap, head tilted back, eyes closed, not a care in the world. You ever see someone so chill it’s actually kind of intimidating? That was her.

Nash grinned. Yeah, this was what he came for.

Inside, the air was tense. Jinzo was livid, groaning loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Trash. This is all just trash."

Jaz twitched, shoulders hunching up.

"I-it’s not really like that, Jinz. I mean, you keep yelling at everyone, and, uh, maybe that’s why it’s all weird now. If you just... maybe said sorry..."

"Sorry?!" Jinzo snapped. "And who’s supposed to say sorry to me, huh?!"

Jaz shrinked, massive but useless right now, like a lioness getting scolded by a yappy Pomeranian. Her lips quivered; nothing came out.

Nia just groaned, finally alive, but not even opening her eyes.

"God, will you shut up already? Trying to sleep here." It came out flat, like she was too tired to be mad.

Jinzo whirled on her.

"Oh, you too? Don’t even start."

Jaz sneaks a look down at her lap, worry flickering in her eyes.

"Nia, what’s up? You’re never like this. First time I’ve seen you so... wiped."

Nia cracked one eye, stared off at something only she could see, then sighed, long, and dreamy.

"What happened last night? Best night of my life. Best night of every fucking single seconds I’ve lived. That’s what happened."

Jaz swallowed hard, this only triggered her curiosity, but no way she could ask for details.

Her face went pink as her eyes flicked down to Nia, then across at Jinzo, both of them silent.

Everybody heard about Victoria and Nash. Everyone knew Nia was with him. And with those red marks on her body and the way she was acting? Yeah, story told itself.

Jinzo’s jaw went tight, face draining to pale. The idea of Nash rolling in, joining up, while Nia’s over here was basically giving him the throne? It was eating him alive.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, bitter. "All this, for him?"

Jaz fidgeted, her loyalty and nosiness at war.

"Y-yeah... I mean... he’s not that great. You’re cooler. And he doesn’t look strong... Nia must have been tired or... I mean... M-maybe he just used that thing... I mean... Uh... The blue pill for men..."

Nia just cracked that lazy smile, eyes half-shut.

"Oh, girl... I met so many people using plenty of those. That thing in his balls? That’s not from a pill."

Jaz’s heart was hammering, but she couldn’t say a word without angering Jinzo.

There was no need anyway. It was written all over Nia. Nash wrecked her, and damn if she didn’t love every second.