Chapter 2 #2
Eleanor didn’t give Cora the chance to speak, simply jumped in with the insults she was known to use every time she opened her mouth. If words were colors, Eleanor’s would’ve been pitch black.
“Yeah, that’s right, bitch, go back to the hole you crawled out of. I don’t know how you got a ticket for tonight’s event, but you aren’t good enough to be here.”
“Funny, my money’s just as green as yours, El,” Cora said, straightening her shoulders. Now that she was wearing clothes she was more comfortable in, she felt more sure of herself. As if she’d redonned her armor.
“What money?” Eleanor sneered. “Your dress was from Walmart, and those shoes you had on? You get those at Payless?”
Valentina and Scarlett giggled as if Eleanor had said the most hilarious thing ever.
Cora refused to be ashamed that Eleanor’s guesses on where she’d gotten her clothes and shoes were spot on. She’d been saving her money for more important things.
“Why are you such a horrible person?” Cora asked. “I mean, seriously, I would’ve thought you’d grown out of being a mean, bitchy, stuck-up snob after you graduated from high school. Instead, more than two decades later, you’ve just gotten worse. The world doesn’t revolve around you, El.”
“Stop calling me that,” Eleanor growled, taking a step closer.
Cora stood her ground. No way would she ever back down from this bitch.
If she wanted to throw down right here, right now, Cora was ready.
In fact, she wished she would. Eleanor would get her ass kicked in front of everyone, just like she deserved.
She could take this stuck-up bitch in her heels and tight dress in a heartbeat.
Hell, could take on Frick and Frack standing next to her, as well.
All she needed was Eleanor to make the first move.
She’d learned the hard way that being the aggressor never turned out well after a fight…but if she was protecting herself, that was a different story.
But of course, Eleanor wouldn’t use physical force. Her words were her weapons.
“You’re trash, and you always will be, Cora Rooney,” Eleanor hissed.
“You’re an embarrassment. Everyone was laughing at you tonight, wondering why the hell you were here, who made the mistake and sold you a ticket.
Even if the only way you could ever get a man to look twice at you is by buying one, you were never going to win an auction.
The second we saw you, we decided if you bid on anyone, you’d be the loser you already are. ”
The old feeling of rejection hit Cora hard.
None of her foster families had ever wanted to keep her, so she’d shuffled from home to home, school to school.
Consequently, it was impossible to make friends.
People she’d thought had her back turned on her the second someone more interesting came along.
Except for Lara. It had been hard for Cora to trust her for a long time, but whenever she did or said something to drive her away, Lara never even flinched.
She’d stood by her time and time again. Had helped her get a job when she’d needed one desperately, had let her live with her when she was one day away from living on the streets.
Pushing down the pain of Eleanor’s words, Cora glared. “Fuck you,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Oh, yeah, that’s elegant,” Eleanor sniped with a roll of her eyes. “So classy. Why don’t you just die already?” she added. “No one liked you in high school, and no one likes you now. You’re weird, ugly, and pathetic!”
Those words didn’t hurt. None of them were a new insult from Eleanor. She’d been spouting the same crap for years. Besides, Cora was weird, plain enough to probably be considered ugly by a lot of people, and she’d been pathetic more often than she wanted to admit over the years.
“Why are you here, Eleanor?” she asked. “It’s not like you give a shit about anyone other than yourself. Homeless veterans, our military heroes addicted to drugs and alcohol, needing psychiatric help? That’s not your jam. I can’t imagine you wanting to give money to those people.”
Eleanor tittered. “You’re right…for once. I don’t give a shit about them. They’re all a bunch of fucking losers, using their so-called PTSD as a crutch to get free money and services from the government. If they’d just get jobs like the rest of us, they wouldn’t need a handout.”
“As if you have a job,” Cora couldn’t help but mutter.
“Bitch, I’m an influencer. I have more followers than you could even imagine. Do you know how much money I make every day? With every video I post, I could buy whatever hellhole you live in,” Eleanor said with a sneer.
Thing1 and Thing2 next to her nodded in unison.
“That’s not a job,” Cora informed her.
“The hell it’s not!” Eleanor protested. “I work damn hard to be beautiful. Witty. Fun. Three things you aren’t and will never be.”
“You’re right. I’d rather be a good person. Charitable. A loyal friend. Someone people can rely on. You aren’t any of those things.”
“As if I care,” Eleanor said with a flick of her head.
Cora was tired. And done trading barbs with Eleanor.
The woman wouldn’t change. Ever. And Cora needed to figure out what her next steps would be.
See if she could get an inexpensive plane ticket to New Mexico, find a cheap hotel near The Refuge, and figure out how to get on the property and come up with some way to get ten minutes to talk to one of the owners.
“Right,” Cora said with a shrug. “Whatever. At least your ten thousand bucks will be helpful, even if your heart is as black as your soul.”
“So na?ve,” Scarlett said with a giggle.
“Stupid,” Valentina agreed.
Cora frowned. “About what?”
“I’m not giving anyone money.”
“But you have to. You won the bid,” Cora said adamantly.
“So? No one can force me to pay. I just wanted to outbid you. No harm, no foul. Besides, if you think I’d be seen anywhere near that freak with the tattoos, you’re crazy.
No way would I sully my reputation by being seen out and about with someone who looks like a gang member.
Nope. I’ll just push out a few tears and act confused when I can’t find my checkbook.
Then I’ll ignore their efforts to collect the money.
It’s not as if they’ll even use it for anything they said they would. It’ll go right into some CEO’s pocket.”
Cora saw red. What a fucking bitch. She wanted to march over to the table where the money was being collected and give them her six thousand to try to cover for what Eleanor refused to pay…but she needed every cent of her money to get to New Mexico.
“You’re going straight to hell,” Cora blurted.
“And that man on the stage is worth a hundred times more than you. He risked his life for his country. Put himself in harm’s way.
Suffered to try to help others. What have you ever done for anyone other than yourself?
Not a damn thing. You judge everyone by their looks, when you’re the ugliest person who’s ever lived.
His tattoos, beard, and long hair don’t make him a gang member or a violent person, just as your lack of tattoos doesn’t make you an upstanding citizen.
Personally? I think his tattoos are sexy as hell.
They tell me he’s a man who doesn’t give a shit about what other people think.
People like you, who look down on him because of a little ink on his skin.
You’d sully his reputation if he was ever seen with you. ”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dumb bitch, Cora. You have no idea how things work in my world. Go back to the gutter where you belong.”
Cora’s fists clenched. It had been a long time since she’d gotten into a physical altercation with anyone, and she was itching to punch this bitch in the face.
But it wouldn’t change anything. In many ways, Eleanor was right.
She didn’t belong here. In her cheap dress and shoes, with an actual soul.
There was so much she wanted to say but nothing would make a difference. Eleanor and her silly friends were who they were. Mean, entitled bitches who truly thought the world revolved around them. They wouldn’t change, especially not because of anything she had to say.
With Lara’s words about rising above those who seek to bring her down to their level ringing in her ears, Cora turned to leave.
Only to stop in her tracks when she saw two men standing about ten feet away.
She recognized them immediately. It was Bryson, the man she’d unsuccessfully bid on, and Callen Kaufman, who, according The Refuge website, went by the nickname Owl.
She stared at them in confusion. What were they doing? And how long had they been standing there?
Then she blushed, remembering that she was in her ratty jeans and sweatshirt.
Eleanor turned to see what she was staring at, and Cora actually felt the shift in the woman. Her mask was back on and she smiled at the men, jutting a hip seductively.
“Oh! Hi, gentlemen. I’m so excited about our date,” she simpered.
Cora was disgusted. At Eleanor, the auction, and humanity in general. She’d had enough. Eleanor had won, like she always did. Bryson could go out with the witch and marry her, for all she cared. There were other men at The Refuge who would work just as well for her needs.
Of course, she didn’t feel the attraction toward them that she did for Bryson, but whatever.
She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself that she was drawn to the man she’d bid on.
She’d studied his short bio on The Refuge’s website until she’d memorized it, then dug further, finding as much information as she could about him on the Internet.
In one particular picture, the tattoos on his arms had been on full display.
He looked nothing like his friends, which intrigued Cora.
He had an edge, which had always appealed to her.
She didn’t want a pretty boy. She wanted someone who made people walk the other way when they saw him.
Someone who wouldn’t put up with anyone talking shit.
Someone who looked as if they could, and would, protect their woman.
Internally rolling her eyes, Cora headed for the ballroom’s exit.
Romance wasn’t for her. She wasn’t the kind of woman men found attractive, which had been hammered home more than once in her lifetime.
She didn’t need a man to rely on, anyway.
They’d only ever disappointed her. She had several foster dads and siblings who’d proven that true.
There was only one person in her entire life who’d never let her down. Lara. And Cora would do whatever it took to help her now.