“I don’t know. Half of the New Jersey chapter were great cooks. Niro can bake anything. Vex makes a mean barbecue. But Clutch, meh, not so much.”
Catfish grins. “Yeah, well, I help my mom and my sister and her two kids out a lot. Pizza won’t cut it every time.”
He goes around the kitchen and flicks off most of the lights, just leaving some under-the-unit lighting so he can see what he’s doing by the chopping board.
Slowly, he pulls ingredients for the chicken and dumplings, and, randomly, a candle in a glass jar from the bag. It’s lilac and says it’s lavender scented, but it’s too early to tell.
Lavender for relaxation.
He lights it with his lighter and puts it next to my laptop.
The lights.
The silence.
Food that will be easy on my stomach.
I could hug the man.
I close my eyes, take in a deep breath, and blow it out slowly.
When I open my eyes, he’s right on the other side of the kitchen island, resting his elbows on the cool surface.
“You know, if you want to survive here, you’re gonna have to start asking for what you need.”
The comment catches me off guard. As does his proximity, which seems to have the same effect as flipping the switch to my libido. His eyes really are the most intense shade of denim blue.
And his lips look so soft and thick.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we have your safety covered. There are cameras all around this building. Atom is just across the street. Grudge is at the diner a block away. I’m right here, and we’ve already moved more weapons in than you’re probably comfortable with. We got your safety covered. But on a scale of one to ten, how on alert have you been? How strung out? How stressed?”
I’m about to admit I’m an eleven, but I play it down. “A six.”
Catfish shakes his head. “You think I didn’t notice the way your hands shook this morning when Grudge was hemming you in. The way your body clock is so fucked up, it doesn’t know whether it’s day or night. The way you stopped wincing when I turned the lights off, or the wonder in your eyes when I turned the music off. That’s not a six.”
He noticed.
That’s my first thought. This man noticed that I was one step away from breaking down in front of all of them. That alone is enough to bring me to tears. I hate the show of weakness.
When he sees them, he reaches for the bag on the other counter and places it in front of me. “My mom’s a witch,” he says.
I blink back the tears. “I didn’t see that as the lead in for your next sentence.”
He smiles. “I know. She’s not for everyone, but she’s everything to me. And she’s worried about you. So, she sent these.” He pulls out a white pyramid that looks like it’s made from an opaque kind of salt. “Selenite. For better vibes.”
I run my fingers over the slightly rough surface. “That’s really sweet of her.”
“I’m not done.” The next thing he pulls out is a dark green or gray obelisk. It’s cool and smooth to the touch. “This is for grounding and protection and reducing stress.”
I pout my lip out as I look at the pyramid and obelisk of protection. “That’s so kind of her.”
“One last one.” This one looks like a lump of petrified wood or coal. All rough edges. But when I touch it, my fingers come away clean.
“What is it?”
“Apparently this is the mothership crystal for when you’re in trouble. Black tourmaline. She says she’s gonna pray for you.”
