I slipped a wallet out of his pocket, and a quick check of his ID confirmed his name. I’d get on warning that poor lady who’d agreed to marry him when I had a spare minute.
I looked back at him, my hand tossing his body to the ground. The gravel below him scraped as he found his bearing and sat up. I rolled up my sleeves as I stood over him. “Tell Dominos I said hi.”
I didn't bother looking back at him before sulking back around onto the street where my car had been parked ever since dropping Cora and Rory off at their shift. And situations like that were exactly why I’d stayed put. New York was full of lowlifes and cretins who had nothing but bad intentions, and I’d be another one if I’d left Cora unsupervised.
I sank back into the icy air-con, taking a sip of tea in my thermos. It was the kind that Cora liked, and after I got curious as to why it was such a big part of my morning routine and tried it, I’d come to like it. The warm liquid glided down my throat as I pulled out my phone, checking in on emails from Meg, texts from Oscar, and clearing the alerts from the home security system I’d set up in the townhouse.
Mine. Not Cora’s.
That little precaution would have both of my balls in casts.
I was replying to a client query when I got a notification from the security software app I’d had installed on Cora’s phone. And when I read it, my whole body froze.
It was the same number that had texted her the night of the event.
Before I could think, I was running out of the car and making a beeline for the bakery. I ran past the foot traffic, too fast to mutter apologies. Whoever it was could be nearby. They could be there right now. That thought made my feet run faster until I wound up at the bakery door, landing in the doorway the same time Cora opened it up.
I panted as I locked my eyes with hers. “I know.”
She was heaving, her eyes wild and dark and panicked. One hand gripped her phone like it might bite, her other curled around the edge of the door, holding on, like she’d collapse if she let go. That flicker of fear was everywhere—in the apples of her cheeks, swirling in her eyes, in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. It was more than shock; it was pure terror. The kind that made your whole body buzz.
“I saw it,” I breathed. “The message.”
Her jaw tightened, eyes jumping between mine. “What do I do?”
She backed up a little as I stepped inside, not taking my eyes off her until I clocked Rory, standing a few paces behind her, arms folded, just as breathless as Cora. She gave me a nod, but it wasn’t neutral. It was encouraging. The way you’d nod at an archer, knowing full well his aim was true.
“You didn’t reply, right?” I asked, my eyes darting back to Cora.
Quick as anything, she shook her head. “Didn’t need to. It got what it wanted.”
I clenched my jaw. “What did they want?”
She looked at me like it should’ve been obvious. “To remind me I’m not safe.”
Rory stepped around us. “I’ll make tea,” she mumbled, as she walked toward the back of the lavender room. “Yell if you need me.”
And then it was just me and Cora.
The silence stretched, thick and humming, except for the dense breaths pouring out of me. In hindsight, I probably looked insane, storming in like a damn wolf off its leash. But she should know by now that I’d be there at the first sign of trouble.
I was simply keeping my word. Hopefully earning her trust.
I waited for her to settle before saying anything, letting that safety net wrap around her and her breath become stable again.
We might not be close, but I knew her well enough to know that pushing her to talk right now wasn’t the way to get through to her. She’d talk when she was ready.
As her feet took her to the counter, launching her up until her legs were dangling, her arms holding her torso, I pulled out one of the rattan chairs and sat backswards on it facing her. It was just a comfortable silence and her steady breaths filling the space between us for a while. Then, finally, she exhaled.
“You know what I hate about all this?”
“No,” I said, resting my folded arms on the back of the chair, leaning a little closer. “But tell me.”
She looked up at me, her undereyes a faint mix of purple and her ivory skin. There was no smirk, no wall of sarcasm. JustCora. Raw and real and tired of pretending she wasn’t scared. “I hate that I feel safer with you around.”
I huffed, but my face remained still. "Because you hate me, I know that."
Avoiding my eyes, she shook her head, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. “Because it means I’m not actually safe. Not on my own. Not around my friends. Not without… you.”
