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For now, though, I don’t have to kill anyone. Right now, the goal is to get through lunch without wanting to killmyself.
I shake off the dark thought and turn to at least wash my hands before I walk back into the arena. But just as I reach for the water, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Just a second,” I say sweetly.
Whoever it is knocks again. Three times. Hard.
I clear my throat and speak louder. “Someone is in here. Just a second.”
Again, three more knocks.
My heart rate spikes. I turn to face the door in mute horror. I don’t say anything. I just stare at the wood and the laminated sign reminding employees to wash their hands.
Another knock.
Suddenly, I’m certain I know who it is.
Geoff and Lucy must’ve walked away, and now, Mikhail has come to find me. He’s outside the door, and the moment I open it, he’s going to push me back inside and punish me for walking away from him.
I just swore to myself I’d kill him if he touched me, but I don’t even have my purse with me. Unless I can figure out how to turn a roll of paper towels into a weapon, I’m unarmed and backed into a corner.
My breathing is coming fast and heavy. I feel panic taking hold.
What do I do? How do I get out of here?
Then the knob turns.
25
CORA
I hear my name.Myname. Spoken by a voice I’ll have to die to forget. And maybe not even then.
“Cora.”
Without another thought, I unbolt the door and throw it open.
Ivan pushes through the door and locks it behind him in an instant. He does exactly what I worried Mikhail would do, but instead of panicking, I throw myself at him.
I plaster my body to Ivan’s in every conceivable way, trying to touch as much of him as I can. The more of him I touch, the less likely it is that this is some kind of vivid daydream.
If every part of me touches every part of him, then this has to be real.
“Ivan,” I breathe.
Help me, is what I’m really saying.Save me.
His hands smooth across my shoulders and down my spine. My face is pressed into his chest as I take deep breaths of him. We’re in a public restroom, but he smells like fresh air. Like nighttime and sandalwood.
I squeeze my eyes closed just in case this actually is a dream. If it is, I never want to wake up.
“Cora.” He curls a hand around the back of my head and runs his fingers through my hair.
“How are you here?”
“I was on my way to meet Francia for lunch. I saw you walk past the back door.” He chuckles to himself in disbelief. “I thought it was a dream.”
Cautiously, I crack one eye open and peek up at him.
