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Unfortunately, my physical health seems to have taken a dive as of late, and I was hoping a massage might help. With Kordin in the hospital, I remembered his membership and thought I’d brave the hollows in their natural habitat to get one. Because my name wasn’t on his list of approved guests, I assumed the last time he personally stepped foot in here was before our wedding.
Much like most things with my husband, I assumed wrong.
Now that it looks like I won’t be escaping without a brush with some of the hollows’ idle-born tentacles of meddling first, I give a recycled version of the line I gave Reece, telling them, “Sadly, our schedules don’t always align.”
“I thought he said you two worked together.”
“We do, but very different positions. As CEO, Kordin has a lot more freedom than I do.” I consider that for a second before adding, “Without anyone to answer to, he can get away with doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants.”
“Perks of being the boss,” she says with a haughty tone, missing my insinuation completely.
“Mm.”
“Anyhoo, I’m Reagan Hull.”
Hull. Why does that sound vaguely familiar?
At my lack of recognition, her eyebrows dip minutely. “Matthew’s wife. Kordin’s a good friend of ours.”
Maybe Kordin mentioned them before.
“Nice to meet you,” I lie before giving them all the same once-over they just subjected me to. They appear to be in the same uniform, just different patterns of too-bright colors mixed with animal prints. Between the three pairs of identical running shoes in front of me, there’s not a single scuff to be found, meaning they’re all coincidentally brand new or these women don’t run. I’m betting on the latter. On my way in here, none of the exercise machines I passed were being used.
“I’m Yelena, Greghory Sykes’s wife,” the beta of the pack says, but the name Sykes doesn’t ring any bells and she doesn’t offer up any further explanation, so we just stare at each other blankly until the last woman cuts in with her own lackluster introduction.
“And I’m Suri Blanc-Shulle. David’s wife.”
“I’m Lenox,” I state, purposely leaving out any mention of Kordin’s ownership of me.
“We’re so sorry to hear about what happened,” Reagan says.
Ah. This confrontation makes sense now. They heard about the break-in.
Before I can get a word out, the circle tightens, closing the gap uncomfortably, then I’m peppered with more questions and generally useless commentary.
“Was it really a home invasion?”
“You must’ve been so terrified.”
“What all was taken?”
“Nothing insurance can’t cover, I hope.”
I nod and say, “Yeah,” quietly, not really referring to any one comment in particular. Reece didn’t take anything, but even if he had, Kordin has insurance on everything down to his electric toothbrush. It’sallcovered. The damaged items, including the one broken window, have already been replaced.
“Kordin’s so brave to sacrifice himself like that,” Reagan says with another perusal of my appearance, this one intended for my more intimate parts. “Who knows what those miscreants could’ve done to you if he hadn’t stepped in.”
Yes. Kordin Debrosse, a courageous hero. And in the face of multiple assailants? Even better.
Sometime between surgeries, my husband’s found a way to control the narrative.
I should’ve been coming here all along. I wouldn’t be playing catch-up right now.
Pressing both hands to my face, I sniffle behind my fingers as I bounce my shoulders.
“It was so awful. I thought they were going to kill us. I didn’t know what to do. In that moment, I shut down, picturing my entire life, everything right up until kissing Kordin goodnight that night.” I pause to dab my dry eyes. “It wasn’t until he tried to fight them off that I snapped out of the shock.”
“Kordin wasfighting?” The women share a look. “Was it something he learned here?”
