Page 85 of Torin

I hand him the spoon. “Go for it.”

He takes the responsibility seriously, dividing the meat and vegetables between us before carrying both plates to the table.

“Beer?”

“Please.”

He opens the fridge and comes back with two bottles. Before I can ask whether he has an opener, he puts the neck of one between his teeth.

There’s a sharp pop, and the cap hits the floor.

I stare at him.

He picks up the second bottle, raises it toward his mouth, then pauses.

His eyes meet mine.

Without a word, he turns, opens a drawer and takes out the bottle opener.

I pretend I saw nothing.

He puts the beer in front of me and sits down.

I take a sip of beer before trying the venison. It’s tender, the seasoning coming through nicely.

Orson takes his first bite and chews. “Good.”

I smile. “Better than eating it while its heart is still beating?”

“Not allowed to do that shit indoors anymore.”

I stop with my beer halfway to my mouth. “Anymore?”

“Alexandria.”

That requires more explanation, but Orson seems perfectly happy to leave it there.

“What did you do?”

“Butchered a deer in front of her.”

I stare at him. “Why?”

“Wanted to piss her off.”

I almost choke. “Did it work?”

“Not really. She handled it pretty well.” He spears a potato. “Gunnar was the one who lost his shit.”

“Because he knew you were trying to upset her?”

“Yeah.”

I take another bite, watching him across the table. “Why did you hate her so much?”

His fork slows. “I didn’t hate her.”

“But you wanted her gone?”