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He whistles, traces one of the dragons and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to unzip the dress to see more of it. Then I realize what he’s touching isn’t so much the tattoo but the top of the scar along my spine.

“He did it to hide that scar. I don’t imagine he mentioned that.”

“What?”

“That’s why it runs all the way down your back.”

I’m confused. But then I realize why, and I shake my head at my own stupidity. “What, did he think the scar was ugly? Couldn’t stand to look at it?” It is ugly but fuck him.

He sets a hand on the table and leans a little closer. “If he hurts you, you can come to me,” he says, the whispered words making me shudder, his fingers feather light along my spine.

“Brother.” The sound comes from the hallway. It’s a rumble, like the rattle of a snake. A warning.

I gasp and turn and for as surprised as I am to see Jericho standing there, Ezekiel casually smiles as if he already knew.

“Brother,” Ezekiel repeats.

Jericho is holding Angelique in one arm. She has her bathing suit on, and one arm wrapped around her father’s neck. In the other she’s holding her stuffed bear. Jericho is dressed more casually than I’ve ever seen him in swim trunks and a T-shirt. But his expression is as fierce as ever and I get the feeling if Angelique wasn’t here, he’d have grabbed his brother by the throat.

“Uncle Zeke, will you swim with us too?” Angelique asks Ezekiel.

“Wish I could sweetheart, but I have a meeting this morning. I’ll see you later though.”

“Just a minute,” Jericho says, putting a hand on his brother’s chest to stop him from passing. He sets Angelique down. “Go into the kitchen and ask Catherine to make us some lemonade. I’ll be right there.”

Angelique pauses, looks up at her father.

He smiles but I see how tense it is.

“I’ll help you,” I say, standing.

Jericho looks at me. “You sit.”

I sit.

“Daddy?”

“Go on, Angelique, I need to have a word with Uncle Zeke. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” she says reluctantly.

Jericho watches her walk away. I watch Jericho because when he turns back to Ezekiel a moment later, the look on his face is murderous.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asks his brother, stepping just a little too close to him.

“Just having a look at the mark.”

“Didn’t get enough of an eyeful the night I put it on her?” Jericho asks, cocking his head to the side.

“You know the rules. I had to be present.”

“But you didn’t look away, did you?”

“Why would I?”

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