Page 46 of Cora

Cora tossed ten beans in and then added ten more. I raised my eyebrows this time at her bold move, but I still called it. I’d come this far; I may as well see it through. Derrick called as well, and we turned our cards over. Derrick had three tens.

“Damn you,” I chuckled.

“Thanks for playing,” he laughed, reaching to collect his beans.

Cora whacked him on the hand to get him to stop. She pointed at her cards.

“You didn’t get the flush, Cora,” I explained.

She rolled her eyes and then pointed to her hand again.

“Holy shit!” Derrick exclaimed. “She has a fucking straight. She’s had it since the fucking flop!”

I stared at her hand in disbelief. How had we missed that? I side-eyed her. “You hustled us.”

Cora laughed and grabbed her iPad. “Maybe. Daddy taught me to play when I was thirteen.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Derrick asked.

She shrugged. “You didn’t ask. You assumed I didn’t know how to, so I let you continue to think that.”

“Ok, give me those cards,” Derrick said. “Now that we know you can play, I’m not going easy on you.”

We played a few more rounds, enjoying our afternoon. We laughed and teased each other when thunder sounded outside, instantly killing the mood as my blood ran cold. Fuck, a storm was all I needed right now.

Chapter twenty-three

Cora

The second the thunder sounded, Trent went from joyous and relaxed to tense and terrified. I stood and pulled him to his feet. I hugged Trent tightly as he trembled from the storm raging outside. I understood the protocol here and slowly guided him toward a bedroom. Trent previously explained why he was afraid of storms, and when he did, I could hear the shame he felt in his voice. I didn’t know how to tell him he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of, so I hugged him harder, wishing I could just say what I wanted to say. It wouldn’t have the same impact coming from Siri.

The front door slammed open, startling us both as Remi ran inside. He was soaking wet, and his eyes were wide and frantic as they searched the room before finally landing on us. “I’m sorry. The storm came out of nowhere!” he said, shutting the door and rushing toward us.

“It’s ok,” Trent replied. “I was going to cuddle with Cora. If that’s ok?” he quickly asked.

“Oh, right,” Remi replied, trying not to look hurt. “It makes sense now that there is a woman around that you’d prefer to‘cuddle’ with her,” he said with air quotes. “I know that would be my preference.”

This time, it was Trent’s turn to look hurt. “That wasn’t what I meant, but it’s good to know where you stand,” he replied.

“It’s only logical, right? We made do with what was available to us until what we preferred came along,” Remi bit out, staring at the floor.

I keep thinking that not being able to speak is a curse, but the more I’m around the guys, the more I realize that you miss a lot when your mouth is flapping. Remi and Trent were talking to each other, but neither of them was listening. They would see that they were pointlessly hurting each other if they were. I understood that Remi was struggling with intrusive and toxic thoughts, but he was being ridiculous with this.

Since I couldn’t speak to point out that they were both acting like dumb fucks, I did the next best thing. I hit them both in the side of their heads, right over their useless ears. I had to hop a little to reach Trent’s, but I got it done.

“Ouch, what the fuck, Cora?!” Remi growled.

“What the hell was that for?” Trent asked at the same time.

They glared down at me, but I crossed my arms over my chest and glared right back. When they continued to glare at me angrily without a spark of understanding, I rolled my eyes, pointed to my mouth, and then mimed breaking a stick. I followed that up by covering my ears. If they still didn’t understand what I was saying, I’d have to grab the iPad, but we have gotten pretty good at communicating without it.

“I think she’s trying to tell you that your communication is shit and you aren’t listening to each other,” Derrick said from the kitchen doorway where he was leaning against the frame. He had an amused expression that told me he must have been standing there long enough to have seen me hit the others.

I pointed at Derrick and then my nose, nodding.

“Good job on your effective communication, Ghost Girl,” Derrick praised, standing beside me and bending down to kiss the tip of my nose. “If they were better listeners, they would have understood what you were trying to say,” he stage whispered. I smiled and giggled silently, and his eyes got a little sad.

I cocked my head to the side and traced the frown on his face.

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