KARMA COLADA

Chapter Twenty-Two

LEON touched his cheekbone gingerly, feeling the raised skin over his cheekbone where the hulking fishmonger-slash-pro-wrestler had struck him. He should be thankful Leon was arrested before he could drag him to court for assault.

They've been back in the hostel for a while now, but Naomi was nowhere to be seen, having dipped out of the room while Leon was showering the stench of fish out of his skin.

She still wasn't speaking to him.

All he ever wanted her to do these past few days was to shut up, but now that she finally did, he was beginning to miss the sound of her voice.

What a fucking laugh.

Leon sat on the edge of the bed and dried his wet locks with a bath towel, hoping he could rub away the stinging migraine too in the process.

They had to go to Samui Island as soon as possible before Gabriele disappeared in the wind again. The more information he found about the bastard, the more uneasy Leon got.

The man (if he could even be called that) had left his pregnant girlfriend to fend for herself and scammed his employer, all for the sake of opening a bloody surf shack.

Talk about the ultimate scoundrel.

And yet, this was the person Francine left him for.

What did that say about him?

Was Leon such a monster that Gabriele paled in comparison?

He scowled at the thought, cursing when the action inadvertently pulled at his sore bruise. At the exact moment, the room door opened, and Naomi glided into the room, her features uncharacteristically stoic.

The best defense, Leon thought, was a good offense.

"Went out hunting for more good karma?" he asked blandly.

Naomi flattened her lips and slammed the door shut behind her. Leon's eyes darted to one of the two plastic bags slung over her elbow.

He squinted at the contents. Were those eggs?

Without a word, Naomi sauntered to the dressing table and set the bags on top of it. She reached into the heavier of the plastic bags and took out a gleaming polystyrene bowl.

That's when he smelt the delicious scent of chicken wafting in the air.

Naomi whirled around to stare at him pointedly.

"I got you a salad with whatever change I had in my pocket. Figured you'd be hungry," she said brusquely.

Deeply unsettled by her kind gesture, Leon's spine straightened.

"Thanks. But I'm not."

His stomach roared traitorously.

The corners of Naomi's lips trembled, like she was fighting back a smile.

Funny.

Another thing he missed seeing.

Her goddamn smile.

"I didn't poison it, if you're wondering." She rolled her eyes.

Leon scoffed. "I'm not taking any chances."

"Either you eat the salad, or you don't. I'm sure as hell not touching it. I have an aversion to bland chicken breast," Naomi huffed, stalking towards the bed. For a second, Leon thought she was about to pounce on him like a tigress, but then she sat down next to him, holding what appeared to be a peeled hard-boiled egg in her hand.