Page 81 of Cookie: Part One
“You alright, miss?” another waiter asks me but I run past them, looking for that waiter, even bursting into the kitchen, panicking.
Not him.Not him.
My pulse thunders in my ears as I try to steady myself, every nerve frayed and raw from the jolt of disappointment. I force myself to breathe, tasting the metallic edge of panic, and barely register the apologetic smile from the waiter I’d accosted before turning away, willing my heart to slow.
My body trembles as I press my palm to the cool marble wall, letting the world return to normal in fragments. From the clang of pots, a muttered curse from a chef, to the murmur of voices just beyond the threshold.
When I spot him, I damn near sprint and grab the guy, spinning him around, seething, only for it to not be who I was looking for. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and shake my head, brushing past him.
“S-s-sorry,” I pant. “I… uhm, I thought you were someone else.” I step back, shaking, and he nods before disappearing down the hallway, but I stand there for a second longer, bracing myself on the wall like I might collapse. My heart is still racing, and my hands won’t stop shaking.
I can’t stand here forever.
I force my legs to move, emerging from the kitchen just in time for Misha to sweep me up into his arms, his sheer presence grounding me as he carries me through the gauntlet of stares.
My arms curl around his neck and my mind shuts off because all that matters right now is him… not the betrayal I feel. Not the fear in my heart, not the yearning I feel to drown myself in the very people I don’t even know and just found out they’ve been hurting and lying to me.
But I stamp down the cravings that have spiked since the smoke cleared. I stamp them down and just focus on Misha as we walk past the shocked faces, the gossiping cousins, andVeronica, who looks like she just swallowed battery acid. She stands there waiting for Misha’s attention, but he doesn’t look at her once.
And even though I’m the villain in this story… even though I don’t feel proud about this shit at all, I still don’t like her bitch ass, and I’ll take this win. So I tighten my arms around Misha and run my tongue up his neck, looking Veronica in her eyes as I whisper in his ear.
“Fuck me so hard when we get home that you make me forget,” I moan, and doesn’t miss a step, growling loud enough for her to hear.
“Vhatever my Pechenye vants, my Cookie gets.” I smirk at her, smiling devilishly when I see her eyes flash red and her fang-like-teeth grit, anger clouding her face. But I don’t give fuck. It’s all out in the open now, so…
Checkmate, bitch.
To be continued…
