“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want Jack to know. Or the Kings. And definitely not Skylar.”
The urge to repeat the question is strong, but inexplicable. To Sol, at least. He’s not going to buy that I don’t get why he kept this from Jack. Or why I’m so interested in why he kept it from Skylar.
I skip to the next burning question. “Why are they coming for you now?”
He grimaces. “Lots of reasons.”
“Lots, eh?” I suppress the urge to flick his forehead. “Pick some.”
Sol sighs. “For starters, I’m the fucking best. I’ve been out there longest—I wasbornout there—so I know all the secret spots. All the cycles, the behaviour patterns of the fish. It’s a rare day I don’t catch the most for a boat this size, even if I get pushed out of where everyone else is trying to go.”
“And these Couch boys don’t like that?”
“They don’t likeme, and they’re making up for lost time.”
“From when?”
“From when my family had protection.”
“Right. Sowho? As in, who was protecting you?”
“The Kings.” Sol spreads his hands as if it all makes sense. “They didn’t run the waters, but they had enough influence that I was protected by default. Then they went legit and it left avacuum—it left chaos, and unless I want to buy a gun and start shooting people out of the water, I’m fucked.”
He’s ranting by the time he’s done, but he’s laughing too. As if firing a weapon is the fucking joke, when it’s probably one of the only things I’m good at. And these Rebel Kings, man. They aren’t here anymore, but somehow they’re everywhere I turn. “Why did the bikers vouch for you?”
Sol purses his lips.
I nudge his foot. “Tellme.”
“I have history with Cam.”
“You too?”
“Who else is there?”
“Skylar, according to Jack.”
Wry humour fades from Sol’s rueful gaze, leaving nothing but dark shit in its place, though it’s a fragment of the shadows I’ve seen in Skylar. “That’s a different kind of history.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I lost my dude virginity to Cam O’Brian when I was seventeen and he’s been good to me ever since. Skylar’s ties to the Kings are something else.”
Something I can already tell that even if he knows, he’s not going to spill, and I can’t force him. Not without invading Skylar’s life, and I’m not going to do that. I can’t make sense of how I feel about him. Skylar. Itmakes no sense. But I do know that anything so deeply fucking personal has to come from him because he wants me to know, and that’s not going to happen.
I step back from Sol before my best intentions evaporate. I consider what he’s told me and the agitation still crawling on my skin. “How long have these Couch bastards been coming at you?”
Without me crowding him, Sol shakes out his shoulders, curly hair falling into his face. “I told you already. They’ve hatedme for years, but only found their bollocks since Porth Luck stopped being a hub for organised crime.”
“Has it escalated recently?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be vague now. We’ve come this fucking far.”
Sol glowers again, with more edge this time. “They don’t like that I reported them for dumping trash in the sea. Or that I bagged it all up and chucked it over their fence.”