The bathroom felt a lot smaller than it had in my teen years. A shower sat in the corner. Gray stones lined the space and multiple shower heads hung overhead. The Chief enjoyed his showers.
I found towels under the sink and stripped out of my dirty, sweaty clothing. Under the spray, I let my shoulders fall and relaxed some of my guard.
I felt Fin brush against the bond between us.
“No,” I growled, and locked down the connection.
I could still feel him on the other side, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, mentally or physically, right now.
With sore arms it took me longer to wash my hair, but I revelled in the muscle ache. When I finished, I climbed out, dried off, and wrapped the overly large towel around my body to go find some clean clothes.
I almost tripped over the pile of clothes the Chief had left for me outside the bathroom door. Once I dressed and braided my wet hair to keep it out of the way, I walked back out to find the Chief in the kitchen.
“Did you just move into the kitchen now, or am I just lucky to keep finding you in here when I’m hungry?”
The Chief snorted and continued ladling soup into a bowl. Then he layered a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches on a plate and carried them around the counter for me.
When I reached out to take them, he dodged my hands. “These are for your boyfriend. The bowls are in the same place. Help yourself.”
He said boyfriend like it was a curse word, and I smiled as I took his place on the other side of the counter to get my own meal.
I took my food to the couch and settled into the plush cushions in front of the fire with my feet folded underneath me. The Chief came back and joined me on the couch with his own food.
“Soup, your specialty.”
He huffed more than laughed as he sipped the tomato soup with a ridiculously large spoon. Once he swallowed, he said, “Surprised you’re not in there eating with him.”
“I know you heard out fight. Pretending otherwise won’t help the situation. He needs time to consider his priorities and where I fit into that mess. I need time so I don’t plant a knife through his ear.”
I lowered my face to take a few sips of the hot liquid. We lapsed into a calm silence and I finished my sandwich and soup, then took my dishes to the kitchen.
As the Chief finished eating, I washed the dirty dishes in the sink and eyeballed his rising dough still sitting where he’d left it on the bench.
“Don’t touch it while it’s rising. It can feel your eyes on it, and it might fall. It senses fear.”
I chuckled and threw the dish towel onto the counter.
The events of the day caught up with me. The Captain’s face swam in my vision and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
The Chief put his dishes in the sink, chuffed my bicep, and went back to his room for bed, I suspected. He never told me where he was going. Or why.
I settled onto the couch and tugged a blanket off the back. No way I’d be going into the room and squeezing in beside Fin.
Footsteps in the hall made me look up. Fin padded into the kitchen and placed his dinner dishes in the sink, then came over to the couch.
“I’m not ready to talk to you right now,” I said, gazing at the dwindling fire.
He settled beside me, leaving some distance between us. For his safety, no doubt.
“Do you have any secrets?”
I turned my head to look at him. Was he fucking kidding me? “You hide things from me and then you have the gall to ask me if I’m keeping things from you?”
He tilted his head to stare at me. “You keep just as many secrets as I do, Zoey. You just seem to catch me in all mine.”
My mind flashed to Sol’s necklace and my ability to possibly track her through her metalsmithing. To be fair, it wasn’t a secret. We just hadn’t had time to go over all the details and make a plan to do it yet. Fucking Esteban had interrupted us.
Instead of answering his question, I said, “We need to make sure the Captain is taken care of. I don’t like the idea of him just lying there all alone.”