Page 77 of Kortlek

“Yes, bunny?”

“I love you too.’’

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The diner has a rather cozy ambience.

Dimmed lights, quiet chatter, and great food. Cove’s sitting next to me, one hand on my thigh, mindlessly drawing patterns while drinking beer with his free one. The touch causes a hum of satisfaction to slip past my lips as I finish the burger, pushing the plate a bit away from me and taking a big gulp of the iced water.

The music is playing softly, loud enough to mute out the conversations, but not too loud so people can’t talk without yelling. The inner design is rather homey, too. With dark oak wood on the floor, matching the tables and chairs.

The walls are filled with family pictures, achievements, and good reviews that were handwritten. The lamps in the corners give off a very old vibe, though it fits the rest of the place perfectly. My eyes are glued on a specific picture of a young girl.

She’s happy.

She’s six years old with a big grin on her face. She holds a big, black sharpie in her hand, with her big brother next to her. His entire shirt is covered with the sharpie, drawn on something that should look like a cat, but looks like a monster from terrible nightmares.

The children in the pictures are Arlo and me.

A small smile tugs on my lips as I stare. It used to be so simple. I’d wreak havoc, and Arlo would scold me, then high-five me in private when our parents weren’t looking. It serves as a reminder that no matter what, I’ll always have Arlo in my corner.

Sure, we disagree on many things, but at the end of the day, I know he’d give his life for me. I’d do the same, and the bond I have with him can’t be severed. Slowly, I turn my attention to Cove.

He’s scrolling through his phone, a passive look on his face.

I learned this morning that his temper started flaring up again. When he came back to New York from Rome, the first thing he did was get into a fight at the airport. He was already furious at me for ditching him in Italy, and then supposedly a man looked at him in the wrong way, and well — that’s the main reason it took him so long to reach Arlo’s place.

He had to get bailed out.

He notices me staring and puts his phone down. His hand moves from my thigh to underneath the chair, yanking me closer to him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. The moment I inhale his scent, my mind’s more at ease.

“Everything alright, bunny?”

I nod.

“Do you think I can do it?”

Cove doesn’t need to ask what I’m referring to — he knows. Slowly, he takes my chin between thumb and index finger, tilts my head upward, and gives me a stern look. I’m sucked right into the bold, hazel void that I never want to leave.

“You can do it, and you will do it,’’ he says, voice dropping low. “I’ll be right there. You won’t have to do anything on your own if you don’t want to. But if you choose to, I’ll gladly listen to your commands. I’d like nothing more than to keep you hidden away and deal with it myself, but I know you’d never forgive me for that. The ball’s in your court, bunny.’’

“When I saw Wyatt in the basement when you fought the last time,’’ I paused, my throat tightening. “I froze. I allowed the fear to get to me, and I panicked. If he had cornered me elsewhere, with no one around, I don’t think I would’ve found the strength to fight off the fears.’’

His jaw clenches, anger flashing behind his eyes. I know it’s not directed toward me — it’s directed toward Wyatt. Whenever his name is mentioned, which is a lot these days, Cove always tenses. He hasn’t let me out of his sight since we returned from Italy, nor has he taken any drinks or foods I offered him.

That one’s on me, honestly.

The nightmares have returned the closer we get to finally dealing with Wyatt. Each night, Cove’s holding me, letting me soak his shirt with my tears. By morning, I’m a trembling mess, struggling to differentiate between dreams and reality.

“I know, bunny,’’ Cove says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I also know that you’re a very powerful individual. He caught you off guard once; he will not do it again. This time, I’ll be right there in case you need me.’’

It’s been a whole week since I returned, and Rose hasn’t been spotted anywhere. Arlo did deep digging through the security footage, and it’s definitely been tampered with. The people he had in front of the building are fucking useless, to say the least.

However, they remember a man leaving the building with a big suitcase.

Suitcase big enough to carry a person inside. Rose’s a short girl, on the slimmer side, too, and it wouldn’t be impossible to knock her out and stuff her into the suitcase. The morons didn’t pay any attention to the man, what he looked like, what he wore, or what kind of car he was driving.

The fact that we haven’t found her body is a good sign.

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