CORA
As soon as we got back to The Wellerton last night, Alec left.
He hasn't answered my calls or my texts, and I have no idea what that means—for him, or for us.
Silver and Miller both tell me to give him time, but how can I give him something I don't have?
I wake up alone, my body still sore from Ricardo's beating, even three days later. I'm assuming the worst of it is upon me, and its only improvement from here on out.
The apartment Miller so graciously gave me is eerie when I'm left alone, and it takes me one very slow hour before I decide I've had enough of the solitude.
I promised Miller that I wouldn't go into the office this week, but I didn't say anything about not leaving The Wellerton at all.
The shower has no shortage of hot water and feels great against my aching frame. Every inch of me is grateful for the excellent water pressure and expensive bathroom supplies that Miller has given me. I get ready in somewhat of a hurry, blow-drying my hair and styling it with a round brush. I settle on a pair of dark denim skinny jeans, a black crop top, and a pair of white Air Forces—all courtesy of Miller. Aside from the few things that he brought from my parent's house, everything else is picked out by him, and not only fits me, but is something I like, too.
Once I'm somewhat satisfied with my appearance, I make my way to the kitchen, poking a few buttons on the fancy espresso machine he bought me and making myself a drink. While it's brewing, I pop half a bagel in the toaster and pull out the other half of the avocado that Alec didn't finish yesterday morning.
My chest tightens as I think of him but I shove the thought away because it does me no good to worry about something I can no longer control.
Do I worry that things went too far last night, and Alec realized how very fucked up the rest of us are and that he wants nothing to do with us? Yes, absolutely, but I can't allow my mind to revolve around that, not when there are other pressing matters at hand. Like the fact that there are only four days until I have to go to Ricardo's house, and a week until he claims me as his. We may have uncovered some information during the interrogation but if we don't figure out what to do with it, all of this will have been for nothing.
I smear the rest of the avocado on my bagel and sprinkle some everything bagel seasoning on it. I'm not really that hungry, but I did promise Miller that I would eat when I woke up, and if I'm going to go behind his back and leave, I might as well follow through with one thing I said I'd do.
I eat half of the bagel before throwing the remains in the trash and placing the plate in the dishwasher, along with my empty mug. I may not have eaten all the bagel, but I refuse to let a drop of that damn good coffee go to waste.
Grabbing my clutch off the table near the door, I reach for the key to the car that Miller got me. It feels strange to have a car at all, let alone a fucking Porsche.
Before I come to my senses and change my mind, I leave the apartment and use the private elevator to go into the parking garage. A car alarm beeps in the distance, and I watch over my shoulder as I make my way to my car, not letting out a breath until I'm in the driver's seat with the doors locked.
I punch in the address into my phone's GPS and wait for it to connect. The drive isn't that long, and I'm grateful because I didn't figure out how to navigate the stereo prior to leaving, and I didn't want to distract myself too much while driving. Wrecking the beautiful car Miller gave me the first time I take it out isn't exactly going to win me any bonus points with him.
I find a parking spot and put the car in park, giving myself one more chance to turn around and return home.
But this trip isn't just for me, it's for her, too.
The Porsche chirps when I press the lock button and each step away from it reminds me how vulnerable I am here, completely exposed to anyone who might walk by.
"You're just a girl, Cora. In a city of a fuck ton of people. No one will notice you," I whisper and make my way across the parking lot and through the double doors. I don't stop until I'm slipping into London's hospital room, my shoulders relaxing like I'm somehow safe in here, even though I know that's a lie. If anything, this is the most dangerous place for me to be.
"Hey," I say and approach her.
London raises her arm to shut the television in the corner off, a smile forming on her bruised and swollen face. "Hey, you're here."
"I am," I tell her. "How are you feeling?"
She brings her hand around her neck, where the brace is no longer. "They finally took this thing off, so I feel a hell of a lot better."
"I bet."
"Plus, I'm hopped up on drugs."
"That's always a plus." I scoot a chair over to the edge of the bed and lower myself onto it. "What were you watching?"
"Some baking show."
"You can turn it back on, if you want to."
"Nah, it was boring anyway. I'm going out of my mind in here. I'd much rather talk to you."
