“Did it—did the scar tissue set properly? I came back to check—but you—” “It’s fine,” he said in a stiff voice, his posture rigid. His head was turned so that she could see only his jaw. “I hardly feel it.” She exhaled. “Good. I was afraid that maybe something had gone wrong and that’s why you didn’t come—” He whirled on her. “It’s not any of your fucking business.” She started back. “I just meant—” “Fuck off, Marino.” His voice was deadly soft. “I’m not your pet. I don’t need you.”
