“I…”—I speak slowly and cross my arms in an ‘x’—“don’t need it.”
Once I’m done with Kurosaki, I’ll shower at home.
Voice climbing, she moves her hands back and forth. We don’t speak the same language, but I understand a scolding when I hear one. Martina used to snap at us the same way after we ruined her freshly mopped floors by tromping into the house with our boots on.
I raise both hands. “Fine. Fine. I’ll change.”
She nods, sets the bundle of clothes on the bed, and gestures for me to follow her. I watch as she shoves the wooden folding door aside to reveal a bathtub. The tub sits on a raised platform and is surprisingly large, almost like it was bought with someone of my frame in mind.
She looks over her shoulder proudly at me, an eyebrow raised as if to say “huh? You like?”
I give her a curt nod. I prefer showers to baths, but I’m not going to be rude to an old lady.
The woman unrolls something from her shirt and shows it to me. It looks like a satchel. She fills the tub, drops the satchel inside, and then she pats at her shoulders and does a thumbs-up gesture.
“It’s… good for me?” I try to guess.
She nods, although I get the sense she didn’t understand a word I said.
When the tub is filled, she tests the temperature by swishing her hand in the water, and then she beckons me forward. While I hesitantly approach the tub, the tornado of a woman backs away and pulls the wall divider.
I stand there, waiting for the door to click shut, but it doesn’t. When the silence drags on too long, the woman bangs her hand on the divider and calls out in Japanese.
Seems like she’s not leaving until I’m naked.
I glance at the warm water in the tub. What the hell. I might as well.
Stripping off my clothes, I throw them on top of the divider. As soon as I set them down, they slither over the divider. When I’ve shed all my clothes, the woman says something else in Japanese.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” I mumble, confused.
Her footsteps pad silently away, and the door bangs shut.
Inching forward, I stick my toe into the water. Is it poisoned or something? I wait for a stinging or burning sensation, but it seems like a regular bath.
Cautiously, I dip my full body inside.
The water is the perfect temperature, and I’m surprised by how good it feels. I lean my head against the rim as the knots in my neck and shoulder loosen.
This isn’t too bad.
My thoughts travel as the silence settles around me and an herbal scent fills the air.
My brothers are always on my mind. I should text Dutch and Zane to let them know I’m okay. We didn’t end our call last night on the best of terms.
And Sol? In all this chaos, who knows what the hell he’s thinking? I need to convince him to see a therapist again before his penchant for fires burns all of us down with him.
Sensei. Maybe I should avoid going to his nursing home for a while. Jarod Cross was waiting outside for me. Which means he knows about my martial arts teacher. I can’t take the chance that Sensei gets dragged into this mess.
I sink deeper into the water, a hum of satisfaction on my lips. Sunlight filters through the window behind me, seeping past the divider. The golden hue reminds me of J’s blonde hair.
My lips curve up automatically. I expected some kind of response from her, but she soundedpissedthat I’d taken her candy. She must have decided to end the cutesy act with me.
I can’t say I mind this fiesty version of her.
There’s another knock on the door.
Thinking it’s the laundry lady, I yell, “Come in!”
