Page 37 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

“I’d come over with my team for one day to set up the lights and microphones. That’s all. You don’t even have to be here for that.”

“Thank you. I will think about it.” I got out of my chair and pointed a very direct arm at the door, wishing it wouldn’t betray me by trembling like a leaf in a breeze.

“Cordelia-”

“Silas, please leave, or it’s an automaticnofrom me.”

At least he had the good sense to take me by my word and take his jacket. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Cordelia.”

“I wish I could say the same, but then I don’t take pleasure in meetinganyone.”

He chuckled and was still smiling when I directed him out the front door, not taking my eyes off him until he was down on the sidewalk. Once I’d shut the door and turned the lock, I crumpled to the floor. Whatever will had kept me upright dissipated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to bethat.And I wasn’t supposed to be alone.

I wasn’t supposed to be alone.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the images from flickering up. Just as one stupidly predictable shape burnt through the lights behind my closed lids, the house alarmbeeped. I had to scramble backwards to avoid being crushed by the door swinging open.

“Fuck,” Victor breathed before he’d even fully stepped inside.

His shoes were wet. Rain. Just rain. Not-

“Cordelia?”

“Hm?” My head snapped up, and immediately swiveled back down because he was crouching in front of me.

“Come on.” Victor shrugged out of his wet jacket and left it on the floor before his arms closed around me and he pulled me to my feet. He shuffled us into the sitting room. The sofa was much softer than the floor, and warmer too. Victor’s fingers gently tugged my chin from side to side, before picking up my arms by the wrists, eyes scanning every inch from shoulder to pinky. This inspection was much more thorough than his usual once-over, and I didn’t have the strength to protest, or to even form the words to tell him I wasn’t hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, when he was happy with the state of my body, sitting on the coffee table with my feet in his lap.

“I- I-” The sentence died on my lips, a hiccup breaking through. The tight feeling in my chest was spreading, stifling my nerves and filling my ears with a dull rushing sound.

“I know. I’m sorry, Cordelia.” His thumbs circled over my ankles. “I fucked up.”

My mouth opened but no sound came out. I hated this. At the same time that my body was going into complete frozen panic, I knew how absolutely silly I was being, how stupid it was to freak out over someone visiting my house.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Victor shifted onto the sofa next to me and tucked me against his side. A strong, earthy smell clung to his skin and I tried to let each inhale ground me. His chin folded over my head as he kept repeating the same phrase over and over again: “It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s alright.” He held me through my muscles shaking and my breath stuttering and quiettears rolling down my cheeks, and he still held me when every last shred of energy was spent, and I sagged against him.

“It’s alright,” he still whispered when the exhaustion took me under.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Again!”Yury yelled like the relentless motherfucker he was.

My stamina had been shot to pieces over the last few years, but I had something to fight today. It was hard to get tired of punching Yury when he was the reason I hadn’t made it home to Cordelia in time for her meeting. He was the one who had gone off-schedule. I hadn’t even showered, just sprinted off, and I’d still been too fucking late. Each hit I landed was for the girl I’d scooped off the cold ground. The same one who had reassured me with a smile today that it was okay for me to leave her again.

I made it twice as long as last time, before the old man gave me the sign to wrap it up. I threw one more punch to his gut for the sick pleasure of hearing him grunt. Could have gone a few more rounds without getting sick of that sound.

“What was that about?” Luka asked when I walked out of the shower.

Petya had built an entire extension behind the house twenty years ago, just for me to train without anyone spying on my moves. Luka was leaning against a treadmill, barely looking up from his phone.

“What?” I asked, still keeping my communications with him to a minimum.

“I know how you fight when you’re angry. It’s sloppy.”

“Do it better then.”

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” he shrugged, “that’s Yury’s job.”

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