Page 80 of Thor

"Not emergency-level," I continued, hating myself with each fabricated detail, "but I need to meet with Dr. Patel this afternoon to discuss some new options."

Concern immediately flooded Thor's face, softening his features. Amy's illness was the one thing guaranteed to explain any distress on my part. He knew how much I worried about my sister, how the weight of her leukemia treatment costs fell largely on my shoulders.

"I'll come with you," he said, his tone making it clear this wasn't a request but a statement of fact.

Panic fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird. If he came with me, the blackmailer would release the photos. Everyone would see. Everything would be destroyed.

"No," I said, too quickly.

His eyebrows shot up at my sharp tone. I softened my voice, laying a hand on his chest.

"I mean, I need to do this alone. Amy's really private about her medical stuff, even with me sometimes."

The lie grew, building on itself like a house of cards that could collapse with a single wrong breath.

"And Dr. Patel has a strict one-visitor policy for consultations," I added.

Thor's eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening in that way it did when he was processing something that didn't quite add up. A muscle ticked in his cheek. He didn't believe me—not completely—but he also had no reason to think I'd invent something about Amy's health.

"If you're sure," he said finally, still studying my face. "

I nodded, knowing I needed to maintain as much normalcy as possible. "Thank you."

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering a moment too long. When he pulled back, his eyes held a message I couldn't quite interpret—concern, suspicion, and something else. Something that made my stomach twist with guilt.

"You want breakfast first?" he asked, finally releasing me.

"I'll make us something," I offered, desperate for any normal activity to ground me.

I moved to the refrigerator, pulling out eggs and bacon, grateful for the excuse to turn away from his too-perceptive gaze. My hands trembled as I reached for a mixing bowl.

"Let me," Thor said, gently taking the bowl from me. "You sit."

He guided me to one of the kitchen chairs, his touch gentle but firm. "You're shaking," he observed. "Is it really just about Amy?"

"I didn't sleep well," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "And I'm worried. It’s been one thing after another with her treatment recently."

I felt awful. Like a terrible, terrible person. The guilt was almost overwhelming.

He nodded, accepting this explanation for now. I watched him move around the kitchen with surprising grace for such a large man, cracking eggs into the bowl with one hand.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, his back to me as he worked.

"Not yet," I said. "Maybe after I talk to Dr. Patel. I need to understand what's happening first."

The sound of eggs whisking filled the silence between us. I stared at my locked phone on the counter, knowing those horrible images lurked inside it like poison. Three o'clock. I had until three to figure out what to do.

Thor placed a mug of coffee in front of me, fixed exactly how I liked it—two sugars, plenty of cream.

"Drink," he instructed. "You're pale."

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, using it to steady the tremors I couldn't quite control. "Thank you."

He returned to the stove, his broad back a wall of muscle beneath his plain black t-shirt. The same back I'd clung to last night when he'd made love to me with such tender ferocity. The same back now visible in graphic detail to whoever had taken those photos.

Bile rose in my throat again. I forced it down with a sip of coffee.

"What time is your appointment?" Thor asked, sliding bacon into a hot pan where it immediately began to sizzle.

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