Chapter 11 - Cora
Cora wiped her hands on her apron and glanced at the clock above the bakery’s counter. Fifteen minutes until closing. Fifteen more minutes of keeping her smile plastered in place, even as unease twisted in her stomach like a coiled rope ready to snap.
“Excuse me?” The overly polite tone jarred her attention back to the man standing at the counter. He was tall, with a clean-shaven face and pale, gray eyes that seemed too focused on her every move. He pointed at the display case. “How fresh are those cinnamon rolls?”
“Baked this morning,” she answered automatically. She reached for a bag and the tongs. “Would you like one?”
“Two.” He leaned on the counter as he spoke, but his eyes weren’t on the pastries. They were on her. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
Cora froze for half a second before forcing her hands to keep moving. “Not really. Been here a while now.” She slid the cinnamon rolls into the bag, praying the tremble in her fingers wasn’t obvious.
“Funny, I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”
She smiled tightly, ignoring the prickling unease that crawled up her spine. “Small town, but I guess it’s still easy to miss people.” She placed the bag on the counter. “That’ll be six-fifty.”
The man didn’t move for a moment, as if weighing his options, before finally pulling a crumpled bill from his wallet. He handed it over, brushing his fingers against hers longer than necessary. “Thanks. See you around.”
Cora kept her gaze fixed on the door long after it swung shut behind him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her instincts screamed at her that something about him wasn’t right.
“That guy’s been in here three times this week, but that’s the first time he’s actually ordered something,” Laila commented from behind her. “Is it just me, or is he…weird?”
Cora turned to find her friend leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
“He’s fine,” Cora responded, though the words tasted like a lie. “Just another customer.”
“He was staring at you like you’re a freaking science experiment. That’s not normal.”
“It’s nothing,” Cora insisted, busying herself with wiping down the counter. “People look. I’m used to it.”
“Looking is one thing. That guy is practically taking notes.” Laila plucked the rag from Cora’s hand, forcing her to stop. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Cora insisted, though her voice wavered. “It’s just…things have been weird lately. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just imagining it.”
“You’re not imagining anything. I’ve seen it too. The strangers. The ones who come in and don’t buy anything but still hang around like they’re waiting for something.”
Laila studied her closely before declaring, “You’re scared.”
“I’m not,” Cora lied.
“Bullshit,” Laila shot back. “You’re jumpy as hell, and it’s not just because of random customers. What’s really going on?”
Cora was torn between the urge to unload everything and the fear of pulling Laila into the mess her life had become. Finally, she sighed. “It’s…complicated.”
“Try me.”
Cora bit her lip, and her gaze darted to the window as if the wrong word might summon trouble. “Grayson’s been…worried about something. He thinks there might be people looking for me. From the auction.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner? Jesus, Cora, if you’re in danger—”
“I’m not,” Cora interrupted. “Not yet, anyway. Grayson’s handling it.”
Laila scoffed. “Handling it? You’re living above a bakery in the middle of nowhere. If people are after you, that’s not exactly a fortress.”
“It’s not like I have options. This is where I ended up. This is where I’ve been safe.”
“Until now,” Laila pointed out. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you. But if something’s going on, you need to take it seriously. Even if Grayson’s involved.”
Cora sighed and scrubbed a hand through her hair. “I am taking it seriously. I just… I don’t know what else to do.”
“You could start by not brushing this off as paranoia,” Laila suggested. “Trust your gut. If something feels off, it probably is.”
The bell above the door jingled, and they both turned to see a young woman with a stroller entering the bakery. Cora felt a rush of relief at the familiar face and immediately stepped forward to help.
By the time the last customer left, the clock read five minutes past closing, and the street outside was empty save for a stray cat darting across the road. Cora locked the door and flipped the sign to “Closed,” then leaned against the counter with a heavy sigh.
“Grayson’s late,” Laila commented. “Doesn’t he usually show up around now?”
“He’s probably just busy,” Cora thought aloud, though she couldn’t stop the hint of unease that followed her words. Grayson was rarely late. He’d made it a point to be at the door every evening as if his constant presence alone could shield her from whatever danger lurked in the shadows.
“You’re making excuses again.”
Cora shook her head, ignoring the pit in her stomach. “I’m fine. I can get myself upstairs.”
Laila didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue. “Just…be careful, okay?”
“I always am,” Cora replied with a weak smile. She waved goodbye as Laila slipped into the back, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door.
The night stretched before her, quiet and heavy, and the faint glow of the streetlights set a glow on the pavement. Cora stood at the threshold of the bakery for a moment, glancing up and down the street. No Grayson. No sign of anyone.
Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. She didn’t need him to walk her twenty feet to her apartment. She was fine. She could handle this.
With one last glance at the empty road, she made her decision. She’d walk herself home.
But her footsteps seemed too loud against the pavement, and her heart pounded harder with every step. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to be subtle, but the street behind her was still empty—just shadows stretching between the buildings and the faint outline of the lampposts.
Still, the feeling persisted—a prickling at the back of her neck, like a thread being tugged from behind. She could swear she heard footsteps echoing her own.
Cora stopped abruptly, spinning around. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
Nothing. Just the distant rustle of wind through the trees. Her fingers tightened around her bag even more, and she forced herself to take a steadying breath. Laila’s words rang in her ears. Trust your gut.
Her instincts screamed at her to move. She turned and started walking again, her pace faster now.
The feeling of being followed grew stronger, and her pulse raced.
She felt for the tether of her magic, the familiar energy that always hummed beneath her skin, but her concentration splintered when she tried to pull at it.
“Come on,” she whispered under her breath. The magic flickered, faint and uncertain, like a flame caught in the wind. She tried again, begging herself to focus, but the fear clawing at her chest made it impossible.
A sound behind her—a scrape, like a shoe scuffing against the pavement—made her freeze. Her breath caught, and she whipped around with her hands out in front of her, her magic sparking weakly at her fingertips. “Who’s there?”
A shadow moved near the mouth of an alley. She couldn’t make out a face, just the shape of a figure lingering too close for comfort. Panic surged through her, and the magic she’d tried to summon fizzled out entirely.
“Stay back!” she warned. Her hands trembled as she stretched them out in front of her, but the magic wouldn’t come. It was there, just out of reach, mocking her as her fear took over.
The figure stepped forward, and she stumbled back, her foot catching on the uneven pavement. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out everything else.
“Cora!” Grayson’s voice cut through the panic like a lifeline.
She turned toward the sound, and relief washed over her in a wave so powerful it nearly brought her to her knees. Grayson emerged from the shadows, his eyes locked on the figure near the alley. His presence was like a shield, steady and unyielding.
The stranger hesitated as if weighing their options, but Grayson didn’t give them a chance. He took a deliberate step forward, his posture radiating quiet menace. “Walk away,” he growled.
The figure lingered for a moment longer before retreating into the darkness. Grayson waited until the shadows swallowed them entirely before turning back to Cora. His blue-grey swept over her, and the tension in his jaw eased slightly when he saw she was unharmed.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “You should’ve waited for me.”
“I didn’t think—” she started, but he cut her off.
“That’s right. You didn’t think.” His tone was harsh, but his hands were gentle as he gathered her arms, steadying her. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What could’ve happened if I wasn’t here?”
“I can take care of myself,” she snapped, though the tremor in her voice undermined her words.
“Really?” he challenged. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were about to panic yourself into a corner.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled away from his grip, glaring up at him. “I didn’t ask you to save me.”
“No, but I’m going to anyway.”
The quiet conviction in his words caught her off guard, and she looked away. “I thought I felt someone following me. I tried to use my magic, but it wouldn’t… I couldn’t—” She broke off.
Grayson stepped closer, and his frustration gave way to something gentler. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“I don’t feel safe,” she admitted. “Not here. Not anywhere.”
He reached out, over his hand near hers, before finally settling on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, Cora. Let me help.”
She looked up at him, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Let’s get you home,” Grayson suggested. He kept his hand on her shoulder as he guided her toward the stairs.
They walked in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Cora didn’t feel entirely on edge.
Grayson’s quiet strength was a strange comfort, even as she told herself not to trust it.
Trusting him meant opening herself up to something she wasn’t ready for and wasn’t sure she ever would be.
When they reached her door, Grayson paused, his hand still resting lightly on her arm. “Do you want me to check the apartment?”
She hesitated, torn between pride and the gnawing fear that still lingered at the edges of her mind. Finally, she nodded. “Just…make sure the windows are locked.”
He nodded and stepped inside, moving with the quiet efficiency she’d come to associate with him. Cora followed, standing in the doorway as he checked each room.
When he was satisfied, he returned to her side. “It’s clear.”
“Thanks. I—thanks.”
Grayson’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary before he nodded. “Get some rest. I’ll stay up for a while and keep watch.”
She wanted to argue, to tell him she didn’t need him babysitting her, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she just nodded and took the twenty steps to her bedroom.
Cora let out a shaky breath as the door clicked behind her. The fear that had gripped her earlier was still there, but it was dulled now, tempered by the knowledge that Grayson was just outside the door. She sank onto the bed as she tried to process everything.
Despite herself, she felt a strange sense of relief, knowing he was close. Knowing he would come if she needed him. And somehow, the thought didn’t scare her as much as it should have.