“It’s okay,” I say. “I know you’re just doing your job. Protecting me, making sure I’m alright after what happened. You don’t have to...” I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence without revealing too much.
My breath catches in my throat. “I’m fine now,” I say, even as my heart races. “I should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” I stand, my legs steadier now but my emotions in turmoil.
Ryder rises, too, towering over me. “Cora...” he begins, taking a step toward me.
I take a step back, needing to put some distance between us before I do something foolish like throw myself into his arms. “Goodnight, Ryder.”
Eleven
RYDER
Ilean against the car. My eyes flick to my watch for the hundredth time. Ten minutes late. The seconds tick by, mocking me. This isn’t like Cora at all. She’s always punctual, always prepared.
I approach her front door. “Cora? You wanted to leave at nine. We have a lesson scheduled.” My voice echoes in the silence, met with no response.
A tendril of concern snakes through me. “Cora? I’m coming in.”
The key slides into the lock, and I step inside, silencing the shrieking alarm. My senses go on high alert. Why is it even armed? Did she oversleep? My eyes sweep the kitchen and living room, finding nothing amiss.
I pause at the bottom of the stairs, my hand gripping the banister. Cora’s number one rule echoes in my mind. Never ever enter her bedroom without explicit permission. Butsomething feels off, and my instincts are screaming at me to check on her.
“I’m coming up, Cora,” I call out, giving her one last chance to respond. Silence is my only answer.
I reach her bedroom, the door slightly ajar. Darkness spills out into the hallway. I peer inside, my heart hammering. What if she has company? But there’s only one figure curled up in the bed. Just Cora.
I exhale, relief washing over me.
“Little Trouble?” I step inside. “It’s past nine.”
A muffled groan emerges from the blanket cocoon. “Canceled everything. Go away.”
I move closer, concern etching deeper lines in my forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I don’t feel well. Just leave.” Her voice is small, pained.
I perch on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch her forehead. “Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?” She doesn’t feel warm.
She flinches away. “I’m not sick.”
“Then what’s going on, Cora?”
Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy.
Finally, she mumbles, “I got my period. There, now you know. The first day is always hell. The cramps are trying to murder me. It will pass.”
Fuck. “Have you taken anything for the pain?”
“No.”
My jaw clenches. “Why are you alone? Where’s your boyfriend? Why haven’t you called him to help?”
“It’s fine. I don’t want him here,” she whispers. “He doesn’t like being here when I’m on my period.”
Red-hot anger floods through me. Is she serious? Doesn’tlike being here? He leaves her like this, alone and in pain? That pathetic excuse for a man doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.
“Well, I’m not leaving you alone like this,” I stand, striding to the bathroom, turning on the hot water. Steam fills the room as I wait for it to warm up.
“Go take a hot bath. I’ll get you something for the pain. Where do you keep your meds?”
