Page 40 of Regal Feather
I sighed. “Both? I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s not like I was in active war zones or deployed a lot. And Ev… We talked like most days. I was sure that I’d come here, and it would just be my best friend and I.”
“And he suddenly springs a new wardrobe, a Dom, and a bunch of strangers your way?”
“Something like that.” I snorted before I realized the way it could be interpreted. “I mean, it’s not bad. Any of it. I love that he’s opening up and being more true to himself. He deserves that.”
“Of course,” León agreed way too easily to stop me from being on edge as I smashed some garlic. I’d never bothered before, but one of the cooks I’d been deployed with once swore by it, so now I did it out of habit. “Sarge told you I come from a military family, right?”
“Sarge?”
Carlos was a Colonel. I remembered that much.
“Carlos.”
That didn’t make it any less confusing. It didn’t look like he was going to clear up any of it.
I was usually better at reading new people, at getting them to see me as something inoffensive they could be comfortable around.
“Right, yeah, he mentioned.” I shook my head. I shouldn’t have started cooking. It wasn’t like I had much more of an appetite than Ever had had for breakfast. “Sorry about your brother.”
“Thanks.” The discomfort he said it with was one I could understand. I hadn’t had to deal with relatives of someone dying—with anyone dying—until now, but I always imagined the condolences wouldn’t be life-changing or necessarily sought after. “You say it the same way everyone at Carlos’s group therapy does.”
“I…” What the fuck did I say to that? “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He waved it off. Usually, I was on alert for moves like that. Ever was always dismissing everything, and it didn’t mean shit. León looked genuine, though, perfectly comfortable with either raising hell or letting things wash off him like water. It was strange. “Anyway…about my military family?”
“Yeah?”
León ran a hand through his hair. I got a glimpse of the letters inked on his fingers. Lobo—his brother’s name. Carlos had mentioned it, just as he’d mentioned the tag he had inked across his chest with his brother’s details.
“They’re in basically every branch, and some of them are…big names.” He winced. I didn’t get the feeling that someone who looked like him would have a nice family history, but it sucked to have it confirmed. “Long story, but my mother and Dan guilt-trip me into going to her place at least a couple of times a year, and sometimes there’s more people in there.”
“Right.” My jaw clenched—I was aware, but I couldn’t help it. It was irrational. They wouldn’t know, but he wouldn’t be bringing it up if they didn’t. “Ever knows I took the fall for a superior. He’s cool with it.”
I caught León frowning from the corner of my eye. I didn’t stop to see what he had to say. I just set out to chop up the Italian peppers that had been about to go bad. There was an onion too in the fridge, but I didn’t wanna deal with the waterworks, so I’d just add some onion powder before dumping the rice into it.
“Is that what happened?” León cocked his head to the side. “Because I’ve heard stories about that woman. Sure, they came from my drunk as fuck cousins who like to spice up every story to sound more macho, but…”
“What do you want me to tell you, man?”
My shoulders were by my ears at this point. I was supposed to know better, to appear neutral and keep perfect form or some bullshit.
It was short of a miracle that I had passed all their exams.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “We don’t know each other. It just felt wrong to not tell you what I knew, but for the record? Ev would be cool with any other version of the story, too.”
My nostrils flared. What the fuck was his deal?
Carlos had mentioned something. León was easily triggered with all things military, because of his brother and, I was guessing, his relationship with his family. I’d heard the stories of black sheep in families like that, and how they didn’t always know when to stop digging into a wound or another. Ever always talked so highly of him, though—León was the perfect Dom. Always so collected. Always so in control and ready to pivot.
I didn’t think he was being that right now.
“Can you go see if Ever is going to come down for lunch? He didn’t have breakfast.”
Truly, I didn’t care if León did or not. I’d been planning to go up there with a plate anyway and get him to at the very least open the door. The request was just a clear dismissal.
I needed to be alone.
I needed to get everything into the frying pan, and I needed to get something right again.
