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“Not for nobody’s mom,” I said. “Capiche?”
“Capiche?”
“Understand?”
“Yes. But what does capiche mean?”
“It means understand.”
“Oh. Yes. I capiche.”
I narrowed my eyes. Was he deliberately trying to annoy me?
Silence heightened the space between us and made it hum with energy. I didn’t think I was the only one who felt it. It crushed me like a submarine hitting new depths, drawing his lips closer and closer.
Boy, I wanted to claim those things right now…
Control yourself, wench!
I extended my hand.
He just stared at it.
“Take it,” I said.
He did, but awkwardly, like a germophobe.
I rolled my eyes and shook his hand.
“This is how we say we agree to a deal on Earth,” I said.
Dyrel clenched his fist and brought it to his chest.
“And this is how we say it among my people,” he said.
I mimicked the gesture.
We’d made a deal.
I only hoped it wasn’t a deal with the devil.
“I am not wearing that thing,” I said.
Okhet turned the cloak to one side so she could peer closer at it.
“What’s wrong with it?” she said.
“I’ll look like a character in the Handmaid’s Tale!” I said. “That’s the problem with it!”
I recoiled the moment Okhet held it up for me to slip on. I already felt icky with having been literally sold and handed over to Dyrel.
“But it’s traditional,” Okhet said.
I sighed.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll put it on. For you.”
I slipped my arms into it. It was heavy and warm. It wasn’t so bad. I embraced Okhet.
