Page 27

I stop chopping.

"You were in the Army?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?"

"Sniper."

My eyes widen.

"A sniper?"

He nods.

Well.

That explains quite a lot.

"And now you make tables."

"Less paperwork."

I burst out laughing.

He chuckles, and the sound catches me off guard.

Warm. Deep. Entirely too appealing.

I may need a moment.

By the time dinner is ready, the cabin smells of garlic, and my stomach has begun offering public commentary.

Vex puts the larger portion on my plate.

"You can really cook."

"Been eating a while."

I stare at him.

"That doesn't explain anything."

He shrugs.

"Been feeding myself since I was ten."

My fork stops halfway to my mouth.

"Ten?"

"Yeah. Folks were too busy getting high to give a shit whether I ate."

He looks to be in his mid-to-late thirties, which means he's spent more than twenty years taking care of himself.

And it all started when he was just a little boy.

"I'm sorry."