“But. . .”
“What?”
“How do I find out if Reo is okay without triggering any jealousy or further harm?”
“That’s where I step in.” Hiro pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and put the device to his ear.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
He held up a finger.
The phone rang and then the person picked up.
“Yes. . .Hiro. . .” Reo's voice came through on speaker, and it was strained. Tight. The kind of voice that came out when every breath cost you.
Oh shit.
Hiro spoke, "I'm up. What do you have for me?"
"The Tiger still wants to get her hair braided and do the movies for the island." Reo paused. A beat too long. Like he was catching his breath between sentences. "You and the Claws will keep her safe. . .while Kenji and I deal with the shipments."
"What time will she be getting her hair braided?"
"Ask her.”
Hiro quirked his brows. “What?”
“I know you're with her right now."
"Hmmm." Hiro smiled at me. "Did I miss anything this morning?"
"You missed a lot, but I'm sure the Claws will catch you up."
"You're too busy?"
"At the moment, I have something important."
"Ah. Then I'll talk to you later." Hiro hung up and looked at me.
I let out a long breath. "Good. He sounds. . .okay."
"No. He doesn’t. He's in a lot of pain. Probably bruised ribs."
I stared at him. "You heard bruised ribs from those few sentences?"
"His breathing was shallow. Controlled. He was rationing air."
"That wouldn’t be anything else?"
"No." Hiro shook his head. "I know Reo. We've bled together. Trained together. Fought side by side more times than I can count. When a man takes a hit to the ribs, his voice changes. It sits higher in the chest because he can't pull from the diaphragm without pain."
I swallowed.
"Also, Reo would have wanted to stay on the phone longer."
"Why?"
"Because we're in the kitchen." Hiro's eyes held mine. "He knows I don't cook. He knows you do. If he weren’t hurt, he would have asked what we were making. He would have hinted for a plate."
