Page 28 of My Orc Billionaire
I felt her glance. “Do you have any tattoos?”
Unconsciously, my right fingers moved to my left forearm, my claws extending just enough to press my suit sleeve into my skin. “I don’t need tattoos to remember.”
She hummed, then pointed again. “That’s Meli’s Bake Shoppe. She’s Mated to Cairo, Eastshore’s only mechanic. He’s managed to keep my car running a half-dozen times, and her cupcakes are even better than mine.”
Impossible.
But I didn’t say it out loud, nor did I point out the apartment I’d briefly shared with Tarkhan, Aswan, and Akhmim when we’d first moved here. She was doing enough talking for the both of us—pointing out the hardware store and talking about thesweet old manwho ran it…but I found I didn’t mind her chatter.
In fact, I was surprised to discover I didn’t even mind the topic. I might not have any interest in joining Eastshore, but it was cute to hear her gush about the town.
“That’s the only grocery store on the island, but the prices are ridiculous, and the inventory is limited. That’s why I order from the mainland.”
Right, Sylvik had done that for me before Riven had come into my life.
“Down there is the historic district. Most of it is owned by…shoot, what’s her name?” Riven muttered. “Ashlyn, I think? She’s married to that orc that got famous doing those online videos.”
“Thebes,” I supplied quietly.
“Yeah, that’s him!” She pointed. “Turn here. That’s the Pickled Clam, our local dive bar. Luxor arm-wrestled the shrimp trawler captain there two months ago and broke two tables! I don’t know him, but that story is famous now.”
Iknew Lux. He’d been little more than a kitling when he’d dragged himself after us through the veil, and I’d seen him as another burden to protect. While the scientists were doing their best to heal my wounds, they fixed up his legs as well, and now he was bigger and stronger than any of us.
“If you turn here—no, don’t actually turn, it’s okay. Anyhow, that would take you toward the beach. The library’s the big brick building.” She pointed in the growing dusk. “And the park is beside it. They put in a community garden this year, which was a fun experiment—I heard they’re going to serve a lot of the veggies atKap’paral.”
Startled, I jerked my gaze toward her as we reached a stop sign. She knew about the orcish harvest festival?If she knew, then the rest of Eastshore must know of it as well.
Likely thanks to Giza.
True. I remembered him as a boring older male, obsessed with our history. But since he’d settled here and Mated and welcomed a kitling, perhaps he’d joined the community.
They’dalljoined the community.
“Oh, there’s the Baptist church. They do concerts sometimes—Olivia Zhang, the violinist, lives on the island, did you know? She says their acoustics are the best—and my mom volunteers in their thrift shop. Well, she volunteerseverywhere, let’s be honest. She says she doesn’t like to be bored.”
I found myself wanting to ask more questions about her family. AboutEastshore. But instead, I just drove where she pointed.
The first big plop of rain hit the windshield as she pointed to an industrial-looking building. “That’s the old cannery. My mom heard from Sakkara—that’s our mayor, you know him, right?—that the planning commission has approved plans to turn it into a gym, which I think would be neat. I’ve heard your brother Simbel complaining about having to work out at the high school.”
She knew Simbel? She knew he was my younger brother?
Huh.
“The Waterfront restaurant, where I used to work, is down that way, and this is all residential.” She waved out the left side of the car as the eastern sky litwith lightning. “But what I wanted to show you is up ahead.”
Obligingly, I followed her pointing finger, and the houses fell behind us. Trees opened up ahead—tall pines and scraggly oaks, with marsh sweeping away to our left.
“This is the nature sanctuary,” she said quietly. “Last year, whenever the chemo got to be too much, I’d sneak away and just sit on one of the benches and watch the water.” She exhaled and tipped her head against the window. “It’s the best place on the island to just…breathe.”
Peace.
I knew what she meant.
Without conscious thought, I pulled the car into the deserted gravel parking lot and pulled all the way up to a walkway that stretched over the marsh.
As I turned the car off, the rain began in earnest. The storm swept in, the distant thunder and lightning in contrast to the steady patter of rain against the vehicle. Parked like this, we had the most remarkable view: the sawgrass being whipped by the wind, the rain against the water, the pines swaying, and the clouds flying past.
I took a deep breath. “I see what you mean.”
