Page 77 of No One Aboard
Tia gripped the counter and watched her reflection shake, not from anger or fear but from adrenaline. The squelch of the sailfish’s skull rang out in her ears. The feel of such a powerful creature caving in under her blows... Tia turned on the sink and stuck her hands into the flow, watching the bright, slippery blood fall away into a watery swirl down the drain.
“Tia,” Nico said from the doorway.
She didn’t turn around. She’d had to kill that fish. It was damned either way. Francis’s face when she threw the mallet down almost made the entire bloody affair worth it on its own.
“Tia,” Nico said again, and she faced him, the water still running behind her.
“Close the door,” she said, and he did, a question written between his brows.
“I don’t—”
She seized his shoulders with both hands and kissed him with none of the tenuous gentleness of before. This was no longer about exploration as it was about the blood that coursed hot in her veins and freckled on her jean shorts.
He tasted like the sea.
They fumbled around the bathroom until Tia ended up sitting on the counter, thighs locked around Nico’s waist and hands entangled in his curls. She managed to free one in order to reach behind her and switch off the faucet.
She peeled off Nico’s shirt, and he did the same with hers. Hot, bare skin pushed together, blood racing. The cold counter burned her thighs.
“What are we doing?” he asked, grinning between kisses.
“I don’t know.” Tia matched his grin. “But just in case, lock the door.”
He barely said “Aye aye” before they fell into one another again. They made out, him shirtless with his basketball shorts, her in the bloody jean shorts and a red push-up bra. Her back hit the mirror, his hands found her hips, and they kissed until her lips were raw. It was electrifying, so close to the edge but never falling.
He picked up a strand of her hair and played with the dyed ends. “Are you upset about the fish, Tia?”
Was she? She couldn’t tell. She hadn’t been when she hit it. Her adrenaline had kept her flying too high to make room for anything else. Was she upset now and making out was meant to distract her? Maybe.
But would she brain the fish again for Rylan’s sake?
Yes.
“You were about to kill it too,” she said, not in accusation. It was true. Nico had offered.
“I was.”
“Have you done stuff like that before?”
“I have. That’s why I thought it was cruel of your father to ask Rylan. He’d never done it, and to do it right, in the cleanest way so the fish won’t suffer, you have to hit it hard and fast. I was worried Rylan would hit it softly and only cause more pain for it. And for himself.”
He was right. It was cruel in more ways than one. Tia ran her tongue along her teeth, deep in thought. “Did... did I hit it right?”
She braced herself, sure she had caused more harm, that the fish had died in unnecessary agony because she wasn’t strong enough or fast enough. After all, she’d never done that before either.
“Yes. Three hits exactly right.” Nico almost looked impressed. “Like you’d done it a million times.”
It was just another thing that separated her from Rylan, Tia thought. Nico, Francis, and Alejandro could have killed that fish cleanly. Rylan and Lila (who would have been terrified of ending a life and even more so of bloodying her pure white cover-up) could not.
“Do you think Rylan’s weak?” She hated herself for asking. Rylan wasn’t weak; he was good and kind and loved animals. So why was she always wondering?
Nico blinked, taken aback, but he seemed to give the question serious thought.
“I think he’s gentle,” he replied. A cop-out.
“And is that good? For him, I mean. Or is it weak?”
He stayed silent for a long time. Maybe he wouldn’t answer at all, and they could continue in the blissful reality where Tia never questioned her twin, never again resented him even in the smallest, darkest way for how his behavior put more on her shoulders.
