If they are a robber, that’s not where we keep the meds, so they’re shit out of luck if they’re looking for a quick high.
“Hello?”
“Shit.” It’s a female voice, but I’m on alert so I don’t lower my bat. There’s a scramble in the bathroom, Bacon screeches—whoever’s in there probably stepped on his tail. He hates when people do that. “Be out in a minute.”
The door snaps shut, the faucet turns on, there’s a couple splashes of water, and it’s not long before the door opens again.
Athena de la Peña—whose brothers and closest friends call Hen—steps out in sweats and an oversized hoodie that falls all the way to her knees. I’ve never seen her so casual before.
Her hair hangs limply around her face. There are dark circles under her eyes, and if I’m not mistaken, a bruise blooming on her cheek. But I’m not close enough to look, and she’s staring at me like if I don’t stop looking at her she’s going to stab me.
“Could you put the bat down, Raffi?” She puts her hands up. “I’m unarmed.” She jerks her head at the potbellied pig at her feet. “Bacon might disagree. There was an incident with the tail.”
Wincing, I nod, lowering the bat. “Are you?—?”
“I’m waiting for Scott.”
We speak at the same time, our words colliding in the thickair between us. She’s very clearly not okay, and I don’t know her well enough to get in her space. All I want to do is hug her. She looks like she needs a hug. But Athena doesn’t do hugs.
“Scott,” I repeat his name slowly in case I misheard. Scott isn’t one of her three brothers, and while he’s a close family friend, I wouldn’t guess he’d be her first call when she needed something.
The de la Peñas close ranks hard and fast when something goes wrong.
“I can call one of your brothers if you want?”
She shakes her head for a long moment before she speaks. “I need you to pretend you didn’t see me, Raffi.”
I’m not hugely comfortable with the suggestion that I lie to my brothers, the guys who have my back on the ice. But when her voice cracks on the word “please,” the decision is made. I’ve never heard her say please to anyone, ever.
“Sure. No sweat. I won’t say anything. You want some Gatorade? I was just making a sandwich.” As I point behind me to the staircase, I shake my head. “That’s a lie, I was planning to make a sandwich but I got sidetracked eating lunch meat straight from the packet.”
That gets the smallest smile from her. I suck at making tea, but I’ll make her ten cups right now if it makes her feel better. She looks like shit.
She walks down the stairs in front of me in silence. In the kitchen, she leans against the counter, folds her arms, and stares blankly at a spot on the wall in front of her. If she doesn’t want to talk, I won’t force her. I’m not going to make her make small talk if she just doesn’t have the energy. Scott can’t be too far away, and when he gets here I’ll haul ass and give them their space. But first, I’ll feed her. Everyone loves sandwiches.
It’s very clearly not a sordid, secret, sexy rendezvous between them. If anything I’d say she needs a friend, and thatfriend currently isn’t me. I’d almost prefer it was a sordid affair to keep secret from her brothers. Her energy is all off, and she’s sad. It’s disconcerting.
Snagging my slice of meat off the counter, I wiggle it at her. “I left this here when I thought we were being robbed.”
She stares at the piece of meat dangling from my fingers before I cram it into my mouth. Definitely doesn’t want to chit chat. I make the sandwiches in silence, making enough for Scott when he gets back. Nothing worse than getting home and finding other people eating something you really want to chow down on.
“Bright eyes?” Scott’s panicked voice echoes through the otherwise empty house. Bacon makes a shuffling dash toward the newcomer and crashes into something with a thud, probably Scott. Bacon’s always ready for scratches. Because of course Scott is only there to deliver attention to the piggy. “Athena?” A pause. “Hen?”
“She’s in here.”
Her head snaps up like she realized he’s really here and sad, red-rimmed eyes meet mine.
“Doubt he’s calling me bright eyes.” My attempt at lightening the mood falls flat.
Her face pales.
“Don’t worry. He’s not my type.” Humor’s all I’ve got in this situation. I grab my sandwich, my go bag, and offer what I hope is a reassuring smile before I walk past Scott. “Sandwiches are on the counter.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off Athena. “Thanks, man. And I hope it goes without saying…”
I shake my head. “Never saw a thing.”
“Thanks.” Athena’s voice is small as I leave the room.
