“She would never. She has already assured me of that; as long as Rylas is not portrayed as a hero and is held accountable for his actions. That’s all she cares about.”
“I can do that,” Boston says.
“Then we’re done here,” Soren says as he turns and heads back to his car, and we watch him drive off.
FORTY-THREE
CORA
It’s deathly silent as we stand in the clearing and watch Soren’s taillights disappear. I don’t really understand everything that’s happening right now, for the simple fact that my mind keeps flashing back to the image of Delaney, lying on the ground, no longer breathing, her body so fucking cold. How long has she been out here? Surely her body was too cold for this to have happened today.
“I can stand,” I tell Arlo. And while I don’t have the patience to argue with him about what he said, I have to ask, “You plan to marry me?”
He sets me on my feet, then grasps the hem of his shirt, lifts it over his head, and proceeds to place it on me. I didn’t realize my teeth were chattering until he did that.
“We can discuss it later. First, we need to get you home and into the shower to warm you up.” His scent envelops me as he wraps an arm around my waist and guides me to the car. When we reach it, I look back over my shoulder.
“I don’t like her out there, with him.”
“I’ll stay,” Boston offers, and I give him a small, appreciative smile.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods and then turns to Arlo as I get in the car.
When I’m seated, Arlo closes the door and then rounds the front to the driver’s side. He starts the engine, then turns on the heat and seat warmers. “I have to speak to Boston. Will you be okay?” I nod, and he studies me for a moment, his brows twisting before he finally closes the door and meets Boston near the rear of the car.
I turn in my seat to see them both staring back at the woods before facing one another. Arlo says something to Boston, then he gets into the car.
“Are you warm?” he asks.
“Is Delaney warm?” I shoot back.
“Boston will take care of her,” he assures me, his tone softer than I’ve ever heard before.
“He’s a crooked cop, isn’t he?” As we drive away, I glance in the side-view mirror and see Boston heading back into the woods. I never want to see this place again.
“Yes, I guess he is.”
“And this place is where the hunts are held?”
His hands tense on the steering wheel at my question. “What did he tell you?”
“That you like to choke women,” I tell him, remembering what Rylas said. “That you’re one to follow the rules.”
“That is true… was true. But you’re my only exception. I broke all my own rules for you.” He says it as if it’s a fact he’s carried around for a while, something settled and certain in his mind. And maybe it shouldn’t mean so much, but somehow, it does. His words settle into a space I didn’t realize was so hollow. They make me feel less alone.
Not fixed. Not suddenly, okay. But seen.
“You choke me,” I state.
“I know. And you enjoy it.”
We both go quiet after that, the only sounds coming from the car itself.
When we get to my street, I turn to face him. “I need to sleep, and then we need to talk. I need to know what’s happening,” I tell him.
He answers with a simple, “Okay, but I need that arm fixed.” I glance down, and immediately, it starts to sting.
