Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
The bell above the café door jingled as I entered, announcing my arrival to a room of strangers who barely looked up from their laptops and conversations. The place was kind of a local hangout as well as a popular place for tourists to listen to live music. A musician in the corner strummed something slow and melancholy on an acoustic guitar, the notes mingling with the hiss of the espresso machine and murmured conversations. The air smelled of coffee and cinnamon, of rain-damp clothing and the faint sweetness of pastries warming in the display case.
Marcus watched me approach, his dark eyes giving nothing away. He’d chosen a small table, creating an intimate setting in an otherwise very public place.
“Hey,” I said, the word coming out breathier than I intended. I slid into the chair opposite him, wiping rain from my face with shaking hands.
“Cora.” Just my name, but it carried a weight, an acknowledgment. If he noticed I couldn’t quite meet his gaze, he didn’t call me out.
A server appeared at our table, a girl with multiple piercings and rainbow-tipped hair. “Know what I can get you?” she asked, the tablet in her hands to take our order at the ready.
“Two coffees,” Marcus said before I could answer. “Hers with cream, no sugar.” My head jerked up at that. He’d noticed how I took my coffee. I couldn’t remember ever telling him that preference.
“Food?” the server asked.
“No, thank you,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. The thought of food made my stomach clench tighter.
Marcus’s gaze never left me as the server walked away. Behind him, a couple argued in hushed tones over a shared muffin. To our left, a man in a rumpled suit tapped furiously at his laptop keys. Normal people doing normal things, while I sat across from a man I’d betrayed, wondering if he already knew and, if he did, what he intended to do to me because of it. I’d love to say the only reason I’d come was because he’d named a public place, but the truth was, I’d have come anyway. I deserved to be tortured for what I’d done so this had been a form of self torture, I guess.
“You look tired,” he said, breaking the silence between us.
I forced a smile that felt like cracked glass on my face. “Didn’t sleep much.”
“Bad dreams?” There was something in his tone that made me wonder if this was more than casual conversation.
“Something like that.” I twisted my hands in my lap, hidden beneath the table. “How are things at the compound?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Quiet.”
The server returned with our coffees, setting them down with a gentle clink of ceramic on wood. I wrapped my cold fingers around the warm mug, grateful for something to hold onto.
“Knight’s been busy,” Marcus continued once the server left. “Security upgrades. New cameras and such.” He took a deliberate sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug.
Outside, the rain intensified, beating against the windows in heavy sheets. I took a sip of coffee to hide my expression. Such a small detail, him knowing how I took my coffee. It shouldn’t have mattered, but the weight of guilt pressed harder against my chest at his kindness.
“Your sage still alive?” he asked, the question catching me off guard with its normalcy.
“Yes,” I said, an unexpected warmth blooming in my chest at the thought of the plant sitting in my kitchen window. “It’s actually doing well. I was worried I’d kill it.”
“Sage is resilient,” he said. “Hard to kill once it takes root.” His words seemed weighted with meaning beyond the plant, and I found myself searching his face for clues. Did he suspect something? Was this entire meeting a test?
A man at the counter dropped his spoon, the metallic clatter making me flinch. Marcus noticed, his gaze sharpening at my reaction. “You seem jumpy today,” he observed, his voice deceptively casual.
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance and missing by miles. “Just tired. Work’s been stressful.”
“Someone giving you trouble?”
“Something like that.” Not exactly a lie, but the deception tasted bitter on my tongue as it rolled out. I really was a horrible liar. Mainly because I hated when people lied to me and, therefore, I tried not to lie to others. Golden Rule and all.
A group of college students burst through the door, bringing with them the smell of rain and the ringing of laughter that seemed to belong to another world entirely, one carefree and minus all the intrigue and evil inhabiting mine. They shook water from their jackets, oblivious to the tension crackling at our small table in the corner.
“I missed you yesterday,” Marcus said after another stretch of silence. “After you left.”
The simple admission caught me in the center of my chest, a direct hit to whatever defenses I’d managed to construct. I swallowed hard against the sudden tightness in my throat. I had to fight not to rub my chest where the ache tightened painfully.