Page 68 of Enemies in Paradise

“I’ll get it.” He pulls up his knees and tries to sit, but only makes it halfway before moaning and falling backward.

I catch him in time to lower his head gently back to the peas.

“It’s outside, on the west wall. You’ll need a wrench.” Bear points to his toolbox.

“Which one?” I hold up three different ones before he nods.

I grab the flashlight I find with his tools, then clutch my robe over my chest and head for the door, taking only a few seconds to slip on my boots. Cold air hits my bare legs and arms as I step outside, making me gasp.

I consider grabbing my coat, but it’s on the rack of clothes that are still getting soaked. Plus, the water is quickly spreading. If it gets any deeper and Bear passes out face down, there’s a chance he could drown. The odds are one in a billion, but I’m trained to assess every possibility.

With no time to waste, I take a breath and run outside.

My robe only falls open once when I have to use both hands to wrench the line shut while holding the flashlight in my mouth. But it’s dark out, and no one is at the florist next door. At least I hope not.

When I go back inside, Bear is sitting up against the kitchen cabinets where the floor is mostly dry. For now. He presses the peas against his head and squeezes his eyes shut as I close the door.

“I didn’t see anything. I swear. I’m so sorry.” His shoes and pants are wet, and we’re both shivering. “Why are you nak… why aren’t you dressed?”

“Because I never shower in my clothes.”

“I told you I was working on the pipes.”

“You didn’t tell me not to shower!”

Bear’s eyes flutter open, and I clutch my robe before he shuts them even tighter. He’s so young that no wrinkles form at the corners of his eyes as he squeezes them. He’s a baby. A hugebaby who looks vulnerable, and not scary at all. Which makes my heart pinch in a funny way that I don’t enjoy.

“Keep your eyes shut while I find something to wear.” I walk past him, watching him closely to make sure he doesn’t peek.

Did he cause this flood? Maybe in a last-ditch effort to get me out of the shop or out of revenge for seeking historic status? Maybe he thinks I won’t buy the building if there’s major water damage. Or maybe he’s actually trying to destroy the entire building, so it has to be torn down.

Or, maybe…I’m being paranoid. I honestly don’t know anymore. I want to believe Bear, but why do these things keep happening?

I walk to the hanging rack, hoping to find something to put on, but with no luck. Every piece of clothing on it is wet. Not damp. Soaking, sopping wet.

I give up on finding anything there and try the drawers where the rest of my clothes are. The drawers which were also directly in the water’s path.

If Bear did this, he’s gone too far this time.

I tug on the top drawer—the one with my underwear—but it’s already warped and barely budges.

“Did you do this on purpose?” I scowl at him with the same intensity I use to yank the drawer open.

The drawer gives, and the force of my pull throws me backwards. I grab my robe and drop the drawer. Its contents spill onto the wet floor while I land on the bed.

“Are you okay?” Bear asks from the kitchen.

“I’m FINE!” I yank the robe closed and scramble off the bed, shooting him a glare on my way.

I amnotfine.

“I didn’t do this. The pipes are old. I was trying to fix the blockage.” Bear sinks back to the floor. “I was too late.”

I scoff, then slosh through the water and pick up the drawer and my underthings from the floor. My underwear may have been damp before, but now they’re soaking wet. Every last pair. I don’t even bother ringing them out, just toss them back in the drawer.

“I swear, Cassie. I wouldn’t do something like this on purpose.”

When I look at him, Bear has his eyes pressed closed.

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