Page 138 of Endgame
Once I force the truth out of my adoptive parents, then Everett and I can start talking.
With nothing between us, we could heal each other.
Thankfully, I’m in flats instead of heels today—the perfect outfit to wear on the run.
But my relief is only momentary.
Because I’ll be forced to face them.
My stomach dips at the idea of visiting my parents’ home.
No. Enough of this. I won’t let fear deter me.
I clear my head, considering the next steps I have to take.
It’s pretty solid. By the time Cormac realizes I’ve escaped through the bathroom window, I’ll already be gone.
I’ve got this. “Am I that obvious?” I refer to the diaper change comment, raising my voice enough for it to reach Cormac.
“Oh, Aurora.” Gina’s laugh rings out, genuine and carefree.
Jealousy stabs through me, then hope surges. Maybe I could be more like her one day, if Everett and I ever make it.
“Here, let me take her.”
In my periphery, I catch my bodyguard eyeing both of us.
I rub my stomach, twisting my lips. “Thank you.”
On my way to the door, I hug my middle with one arm. My cheeks have to be flushed with embarrassment for it to look real. I force a humiliating memory to rise. Like the first time Everett spat coffee into my mouth. His order after I gulped down the lukewarm fluid that tasted of him.
Lick my lips clean.
Sharp and filthy. That one sentence gets the job done.
Heat flares across my face like wildfire, catching in my throat, blooming across my chest.
Cormac’s stoic expression morphs into a questioning one. “Mrs. Alder?”
“I—” My forehead creases. Collared, plugged, ring on my finger, and I still can’t get used to this name. “What?”
“What’s wrong?” He’s firm at the door. Unmoving. “You need medical assistance?”
“I have to use the bathroom.” As always, when I need to go, I try to sidestep him.
“Wait.” He holds his hand up. “You haven’t answered me. Is it serious?”
I bite my tongue, masking my satisfaction at fooling him.
“No, I just…” I shift on my feet. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Oh, I see.” Realization sets in. Cormac, ever the professional, clears his throat and moves out of my way. “Maybe this time you’d rather I waited outside for you?”
The look I shoot him is a mixture ofWhen have I ever?andPlease, I really have to go.
Since he sort of trusts me, he nods once, staying rooted in place.
I hope he won’t get fired for this.
