The living room solidifies for real and I spot Sol’s phone on the coffee table. Someone’s brought it in and all I know for sure is that it wasn’t me. “Where’s Mal?”
“Took Sev and Fiadh for a walk.” Skylar assesses me again. Sees the clarity returning and sits back a little, wearing Mal’s faded blue t-shirt over sweats.
He’s not dressed for work.
“Binned it off,” he says before I can ask. “Marc found me cover.”
“Because Mal came home?”
Skylar shrugs. “We’ll go with that, eh?”
I absorb that. Match it with waking up…yesterday, maybe?—to see him asleep on the couch, seeking comfort in Sol. “Works for me. Can I get up?”
“Probably. You didn’t have a seizure.”
“I know.” I haul myself from the couch and move to the window, scanning the horizon for the cornflower blue of theSirona, but I find nothing but endless ocean. “What time is it?”
“Half three.”
My brother’s voice startles me. I’ve missed him coming back and pulling a shift as my minder. I hear a shower running, which explains where Skylar is.
“Where’s Sev?”
“Gone to check on Lisa.”
“Did you know?”
Mal is pretending to study the open chess game. So I can’t accuse him of staring at me too hard. “Know what?”
“That the Kings were going to take Dav. Did Saint tell you?”
“I haven’t spoken to Saint.” Mal picks up a bishop. Puts it down again and shifts a knight instead. Helping out Sol. “But even if I had, I wouldn’t be bitching him out for what went down. This needed to happen.”
“I thought they’d kill him before they did something like this.”
“Really?”
“No,” I concede and turn my back on the window. “I was always scared Dav would get Sol killed first.”
Mal’s gaze flickers.
I see it—Iseeit. But I don’t have the brain power to pull on that thread and I won’t have until Sol comes home. “He told me something last night.”
“Sol?”
“Aye.”
“About the loan on theSirona?”
“No, something else. But if you fucking knew about that, you should tell me now before I find out from someone else.”
“I didn’t know about the loan on the boat.” Mal swaps a couple of pawns before he shows me the regret in his gaze. “Imight’ve if I hadn’t been so in my head about other shit, though. I’m sorry, Jack. I want to be better than that for you—for all of you.”
Better than a man who dropped everything to fly across the world and help his friends. And then came home to this fucking mess. “Sol told me we hooked up before I got hurt.”
My brother is sharp. I feel like a breeze block beside him most days. But I’ve caught him off guard with this. Surprise creases his face and he pushes away from the chess board, overtly giving me his full attention.
I don’t like it.