“Dammit.”I scramble out of bed, hot panic surging through my system.
“Relax.”He follows me into the bathroom and leans against the doorway while I piss.“It’s not like she has keys to the yachts.Apparently, she prefers yacht-jacking to asking for things.”
I keep my back to him and strip off my shirt, hiding the scars that mar my chest and abdomen.Stepping quickly into the shower, I angle myself so he can’t see the damaged skin.“She’s not a thief.”
“You sure about that?”
She stole my cigarette last night.Not the same as hot-wiring a yacht.
I lather up in record time, anxious to find out how much hell she’s managed to raise without me.
“She was up before the rest of us, sneaking around the yachts as if hoping to find a key.”Leo chuckles at my back.“The woman on the dock looks nothing like the bride you brought home last night.”
I pause mid-rinse, still shielding my scars from his gaze.“Explain.”
“Nah.”He crosses his arms.“You gotta see this for yourself.I will say… The reboot is way more your style.”
“Stop being a cryptic bitch and tell me everything.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I grab the handheld showerhead and aim it over my shoulder, directly at his infuriating face.
Water drenches his beard, his braids, and the entire front of his body.He throws back his head and roars with laughter, widening his mouth, sticking out his tongue, and shaking his face in the spray like a wild dog.
Turning off the water, I reach for a towel.“You can put lipstick on a yeti, and he’ll still piss in snowbanks and eat your cat.”
That only makes the yeti laugh harder.
“Get out, you idiot.”
“Fine, fine.”He backs away, still grinning obnoxiously.“But you owe us a conversation.I’m not leaving without it.”
“I need some privacy first.”
“Since when?”He fixes me with an intense glare, and just like that, Playful Leo has left the chat.“I know about the scars.”
Fuck.
Fuck him, fuck the scars, and fuck the demon who cut them into me.
“Not today, Sunshine.”I shoulder past him and pull open the closet, grabbing clothes that match my mood.
A pair of electric blue jeans patterned with purple lightning bolts, a loose white shirt with ragged edges, and a glittery black cardigan that swallows me whole.
“Dove’s stepbrother is Jag Rath.”I tug on knee-high rain boots painted with daisies, knowing they’ll withstand the soggy misery of Sitka.“I broke his wrist last night.On purpose.”
“Start from the beginning.”He perches on the bed.
While brushing my teeth and finger-raking my hair, I tell him everything.The confrontation in the tattoo parlor, the brawl in the alley, and every nibble of information I pried from Dove.
“She’s not big on words.”I shove on my beanie.“One of my favorite things about her.But I need to understand her relationship with Jag if I’m gonna figure out how the hell to help.”
“Sounds like she doesn’t want your help.”
“Yeah, she’s doing that stubbornI can fix it myselfroutine.Full-blown mechanic girl energy.She’ll come around.”
“Before or after her stepbrother comes around and hurts her?”
