Chapter 3 Three hours later

3 Hours Later

Oh gods, how had it all gone so wrong, so fast? Cora lifted a hand to her head as the lights of the club swirled and danced in a crazy pattern. She shook her head and staggered, sluggish and bleary in the rowdy pit.

Helena. She needed to find Helena. Or Europa.

She was supposed to ask them if she could sleep on their couch tonight.

Because she couldn't go home.

Ha. Home. What a crock.

It had never been her home. And now she couldn't go back there.

Not after Paul had waited up for her and accosted her at the bottom of the stairs when she tried to leave to meet her friends.

The house had been dark, Timmy asleep and Diana still out at her dinner.

Paul had been drunk, that much was clear. He'd leaned against the wall of the foyer, blocking the front door so she couldn't leave.

"You're so beautiful, Cora. I think it's time to stop with all the pretending."

Cora had tried to edge around him and get to the door.

"I need to go, Mr. Donahue. My friends are expecting me."

"Paul," he said, slamming his hand to the wall behind her head, boxing her in. "How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Paul."

His breath had been sour from the scotch. He'd reached up a hand to touch her face and she'd shoved it away.

"Stop it!" she'd hissed incredulously. "What are you doing? You have a wife! And a beautiful little boy."

But he crowded her in with his body. "I can't stop. I love you, Cora. You drive me crazy. Seeing this tight little body." He put a hand on her waist and squeezed. "Hearing the shower earlier and knowing you were up there, naked."

She tried to twist away from him but he grabbed her with both hands and shoved her against the wall.

He kissed her.

Or, well, she should say, he smashed his mouth against hers and tried to shove his fat tongue between her lips.

She'd kneed him in the balls and shoved him backwards. "I quit!" She'd fled with only her phone, the small bit of cash she had shoved in her bra, and the clothes on her back.

And she'd come here.

Only to find her so-called friends could barely give her the time of day. They were too busy flirting with guys at the bar. She tried to tell them what had happened. Helena made a few sympathetic noises, then said Cora should get drunk and forget all about it.

Cora had stared at Helena. What did she expect? She barely knew these girls. So they'd talked a few times at the park while their charges played on the playground. She'd built it up to be more in her head because well, she'd never had friends. It had felt monumental to have girls she talked to and hung out with regularly. But to these girls, she was no one. Barely a blip in their busy lives full of friends and lovers.

So, doubting herself, she'd wimped out of asking to crash at one of their places. She told herself she'd do it at the end of the night. Besides, maybe Helena was right. Maybe loosening up and having a good time tonight was the answer. Maybe everything wasn't as dire as it all felt.

So she'd let a guy buy her a drink just like they did in the books and on TV-she'd been doing a lot of catching up in the last six weeks-and tried dancing.

But he must have gotten her order wrong. She'd asked for cranberry juice but there must have been alcohol in it because she felt weird. Really weird.

She stumbled forward and only barely caught herself from head-butting a chick who was dancing seductively up and down on a guy like she was a stripper and he was the pole.

Cora fumbled in the side of her bra for her phone. Why couldn't she feel her fingers? Her hand was a clumsy stump.

Okay, this was starting to really freak her out. She was never drinking alcohol again.

She frowned as she finally got hold of her phone and pulled it out. Everything kept going in and out of focus. And the lights. Too bright. She winced and stumbled her way through the crowd.

She'd text Helena. Maybe they weren't best friends, but she was one of the only people Cora knew in the city.

And Cora needed to lay down. This day had officially been too long. It needed to be over. Now.

It took her three tries to swipe the right sequence of dots to unlock the phone. She squinted blearily at the little screen. It kept moving and dancing. It was hard to figure out which screen was the real one. She stabbed at it with her weird stubby hand but couldn't seem to do anything right.

She felt frantic and sleepy at the same time. She needed help.

She finally got to the text app, somehow. Thank the gods, thank the gods.

Tears of relief flooded her eyes.

But when she started to type a message, she fumbled the phone and dropped it.

"Shit!"

The club floor was a dark abyss. Would she even be able to find it-

"Hey, I remember you. Did you drop your phone? I saw you from over there." A man dipped down in front of her and came up with her phone. She could have hugged him.

She tried to say, "Thank you," but her tongue was thick and it came out more like tank ya.

She squinted up at him as the strobe lights flashed their way and she winced. Still, she could see it was the nice guy from earlier and she relaxed. He hadn't laughed or looked at her funny when he asked to buy her a drink and she said she was only drinking cranberry juice.

"I think I-" she started, but the world dimmed.

The next thing she knew, the nice guy's arm snaked around her, supporting her weight as he led her around the edge of the crowd.

"Let's get you to the restroom so you can splash your face," he was saying. "I texted your friend to meet you there."

Cora nodded. Talking was too much work. Walking was too much work but she fought to stay up on her feet and to keep stumbling along beside the nice man. He was strong and solid beside her and she clung to him with the little bit of strength she had.

She lifted her head and was blinded by the lights again. It was too much. All too much. The music pounded in her head with the force of an icepick. She needed quiet. Dark. She'd even take Mama's cellar over this.

The thought made her feel hysterical.

Look how far I've come, Mama. The big city is as scary as you said after all.

No. Today was a bad day. She focused on lifting her feet. One and then the other. Holding on to the man to stay upright.

Gods, it felt like they'd been walking forever. Weren't they to the bathrooms yet?

She finally hazarded looking up again. And frowned when she saw they were in a hallway. She twisted and looked over her shoulder.

Wait, they'd passed the bathrooms. She tried to dig her feet in. She needed to let the man know he'd made a mistake.

"Bathr-" she tried to say but he cut her off.

"Shh, quiet, kid. Everything's gonna be fine. Just fine."

But his voice didn't sound right. More like he was talking to a child he was annoyed at.

"No." She shook her head. Not right. This wasn't right.

She tried to pull away from him but his fingers closed around her arms like talons and instead of gently leading her, he was yanking her forwards.

Stop! Help! she screamed in her head. But only little whimpers came out.

He was shoving her out the back door of the club. The cool night air hit her like a thousand tiny needles and she finally managed a shriek.

But it was too late. The door closed behind them as quickly as it had opened.