Chapter 3 Reyes
Reyes
The sun is a nuclear ball of pissed-off fire today.
By the time I’m done tending to the garden, my shirt is soaked and my curls are plastered to my head.
Even under the cooling canopy of the trees, the heat has been excruciating lately.
Sweat trickles along my spine, and I tense my shoulders to fight against its tickle.
After I store my tools and pump another few buckets of water for the poor plants, I walk towards Ronan and Cameron’s house.
We’ve formed a cooking circle in the grass beside it, and it has become the unofficial meeting spot for dinner most nights.
There always seems to be a flurry of activity this time of day.
I don’t eat with the others very often. Years of isolation have conditioned me to exist in silence.
I love everyone here and enjoy their company, but sometimes it’s too much.
The competing voices and bursts of laughter give me a headache, and even something as simple as the constant buzz of low conversation can be overwhelming. Some nights, I crave the quiet.
Tonight is one of those nights.
The chipper sounds of the group reach me as I get closer, and they grind against my eardrums like a mortar and pestle. My teeth clench against the sensory overload.
Ronan stands at the fire, cooking in the giant cast-iron pot he uses for most meals. It’s even hotter here next to the flames, and a fresh wave of perspiration builds on my back.
“Hey, uh, Ronan?” I ask as I get closer. His sweat forms a fine, shimmering mist that highlights his good looks instead of turning him into a melting candle, and I’m immediately jealous. He glances up at me, a silent question on his face. “While I have you alone, I wanted to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” he asks, lifting his brow. “Awfully presumptuous of you to ask for something after you stabbed me. In fact, you owe me for that. Pain and suffering, plus the added torture of having to look at your face every day.”
“Oh, my gods. You stab a man in the shoulder once, just once, and no one ever lets you live it down.”
“Never,” he agrees, and that single word is strangely menacing.
“One of my requests has something to do with that, funnily enough. I was, uh, wondering if you could teach me to fight? Maybe Elas could help, too?” Both his eyebrows fly up to his hairline as he considers me, and I wring my hands as I stare at the fire.
“It’s just that… we’re safe out here, right?
It feels safe, at least. Comfortable. But we might not always be here, and we can’t predict what’s going to happen.
I want to be able to protect myself, and the others, if I need to. ”
“I can respect that,” he says with a slow nod. “Elas will deny it, but my swordsmanship is better than his. He is a more skilled marksman, though.”
The thought of dealing with the noise and chaos of a gun makes me cringe. “Yeah, no, smaller and quieter is more my style. Not to mention, we don’t have ammo to spare. I’m more comfortable with a dagger, but hand to hand combat would be useful, too.”
His lips pull into a thoughtful line that turns annoyed. “Elas claims he’s better at brawling, but it’s just because the fucker is so godsdamned big.” It’s my turn to raise my brows at him, letting my gaze climb to his eyes that are almost a full foot above mine.
“Right,” I drawl. “And you’re so small and delicate. A real wilting flower.”
“Mouthy human,” he mutters, flashing a fang at me, but I’ve learned he just enjoys threatening me. It’s a sport to him, so since I’m asking for something from him, I let him have it.
“You’ll help me?”
He turns serious as he nods. “Yes, of course. The more protection we have, the safer my Cameron will be. Let me talk to Elas, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
“Thanks, Ronan,” I say, and he starts to turn away, but I grab his wrist to stop him. He’s back to being a snarly oversized cat and glares at where I hold onto him. “Wait a second… I wasn’t finished. I need another favor.”
“Pressing your luck now.” He jerks his hand from my grip, and really, my eyeroll at his dramatics is involuntary. I couldn't help it if I tried.
“This one is more, um… personal? I’d appreciate it if you kept it between us.”
Interest piqued, he chews on his lip for a moment, and I have to hold in my laughter at how he obviously wants to hear the gossip. “Fine, but Cameron and I don’t have secrets.”
“That goes without saying, and I’d never ask you to lie to your mate… but could you otherwise keep it quiet?”
“I’ll consider it.” It’s the closest I’ll get to a commitment, and I can see the pleasure he’s getting from my discomfort as I purse my lips.
“Could you teach me to cook?”
“Cook?”
“Yeah, uh,” I grip the back of my neck and tug, a blush forming on my face as I glance up at his eyes again. “Calorie-dense foods, preferably… ones that don’t have any meat in them?”
“Ahhh,” Ronan breathes, and my skin burns hotter.
“We could use ingredients from the garden, and it doesn’t have to be fancy or complicated. I just…”
“I understand,” he says, and for once, the sarcasm is missing from his tone. The softness is jarring, and I swear, every inch of my body must be neon red by now.
“Or actually, you know what? We probably shouldn’t, because this is a terrible idea, and…”
“Reyes.” My name leaves him with such gentleness that it stops my rambling and forces me to meet his eyes again. “We can work on a few things. I’ll help you, but you need to be… careful.”
“I wouldn’t hurt him,” I say, so quietly it’s almost a whisper.
“Not on purpose… just like he wouldn’t purposefully hurt you.”
“Even if he does, I can take it,” I argue, setting my jaw.
“Can you? What if he shuts down because he doesn’t know how to process basic kindness? Can you handle that? Or what if he needs space? Will you be able to give it to him, or will you need more?”
“I have been, haven’t I?” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “This whole time, I’ve respected his boundaries. I would never ask for more than he has to give.”
Ronan pushes out a heavy sigh, though he seems wary, not annoyed. “With Nyx, we don’t know what we’re dealing with… not really.”
“It’s only food,” I mutter, looking away.
“Is it?”
“Oh, my gods! Stop it with the dramatic rhetorical questions!” I snap, and his snark returns full force as his brow hikes again. “If you don’t want to do it, just say so rather than talking to me in that condescending tone.”
“You and that temper—” he starts, but I interrupt him.
“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” We’ve both stepped closer, baring our teeth, even if mine are level with his stupid broad chest. Ronan throws his shoulders back and stands at his full height, but after staring at me for a moment longer, he deflates.
“Fuck,” he groans, dragging his palm over his face. “Yeah, Reyes. I’ll show you how to make a few things.”
Embarrassment replaces my anger, and I scold myself for losing my temper when I’m the one coming to him for help. “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry, okay? The heat has made me cranky, and I’m a mess from working in the garden today. I’m going to rinse off in the creek before I go home.”
“Are you not eating here?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Not tonight. You don’t have to make me anything.” It’s the same excuse and cop-out I give him every time I bail, and he responds with the same insistence.
“No, it’s fine. Go cool off, and I’ll set a bowl in the windowsill for you.” I don’t miss his double entendre, but after the stunt I just pulled, I let him have the win.
“Thanks,” I say with a white-flag exhausted smile, and Ronan’s head tilts in that observant way he has about him.
“Nyx is eating at home today, too. I was going to deliver his, but since you’re headed that direction…” My heart kicks in my chest as Ronan’s lip curves into a knowing smirk. “Could you take it for me?”
“Yeah,” I squeak, my voice tight, before I grab my throat and clear it, trying to soothe the nerves. I attempt a slightly more composed smile, but the cocky bastard only smirks deeper. “Yeah, yep, I can do that. No, uh… no problemo.”
No problemo?!
When the fuck have I ever said that, and why would I choose now to start?
“Thanks. I’ll leave them both out for you.” His grin spreads further, and I dart away before I can die of embarrassment. His chuckle follows me as I try very hard to look casual, even with my shoulders annoyingly stiff.
I grab clean clothes and soap from my house, and once I duck into the forest, I finally relax. My overstimulated mind loosens a notch of its tension as the quiet stillness envelopes me, and a quick glance around confirms I’m alone.
Damp fabric clings to my torso as I tear my shirt off, tossing it onto the rocks with a wet plop.
Even though the day is hot, the breeze that brushes over my skin brings a welcome coolness.
My eyes close and my face tilts up towards the early evening sky.
Dappled, dancing shadows cause light and dark to shift over my eyelids, and a deep inhale fills my lungs.
One breath, then two, and from there, they come easier.
Despite my time at the village, I still feel like an outsider sometimes. Ronan likes to give me a hard time, and I don’t think a day has passed without his sarcastic jabs and teasing comments. There’s no actual heat behind them, though. He just does it because it amuses him.
Everyone else has been incredibly welcoming. Cameron and August frequently check in with me, and Lillith will happily talk to anyone. Once Elas and I got past our… differences at my old camp, he quickly became a friend. Even Taryn has warmed up to me, despite her guardedness.
Xeni keeps his distance, but it isn’t personal.
Aside from the few times I’ve seen him in tense conversations with Ronan and Elas, he stays to himself.
He chose the most isolated house here, and hasn’t asked for any help with repairs.
I haven’t either, unless extra hands were necessary, but his isolation is different.