I bit my lip and gently ran my fingers over her bruises, hoping she was telling the truth. “I saw him push someone against a wall last night.”
Cora merely shook her head. “Um, no, honey. There’s no way you saw Quinn push anyone anywhere. He’s not the least bit violent; he’s just not capable of it.”
I decided not to argue that point with her, even though I was a hundred percent certain I had seen him doing exactly that. Instead, I focused on her arm. “Then...where did those come from? Cora, if someone is—”
“Oh my God,” she groaned, cutting me off. “Just shut up already. It’s from the dialysis, okay?”
My eyes widened. “The...? Wow, it really tears you up, doesn’t it?”
Cora’s jaw tensed as she continued to dab concealer over each bruise. “If you saw how many times they stick things in you, you’d think this was mild.”
I winced as I kept watching. “You don’t have to hide it,” I said quietly. “People will understand.” She should be proud of how strong and resilient she was. She was surviving kidney failure, for crying out loud.
But she cut me off with a snarl. “No, they won’t. Because no one knows.”
I opened my mouth, but wasn’t sure what to say. So I settled for shaking my head. “What?”
She snorted and motioned toward me. “Look at you. You’ve been here less than a day and you’re already mother-henning me to death, trying to spoon-feed me and tell me what’s best for me. I don’t want the hovering or the dictating with everyone telling me what’s best for me. Okay? And I certainly don’t want anyone’s pity.”
Shoulders hunching with guilt, I glanced away. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I’d been so worried about her that I’d only been thinking of myself, wanting to make me feel better by pampering her, by fixing her. But I should’ve been thinking about what Cora wanted instead of what I thought I should give.
With a small clearing of my throat, I lifted my face with an apologetic smile. “So...no one else knows? Not even...?”
“Not even Quinn,” she said, reading my mind. “And you’re not going to tell him. You’re not going to tell anyone. I don’t want to be treated any differently than I would be if I were perfectly healthy.”
But she wasn’t perfectly healthy, and she needed to be treated differently.
I held my tongue, though. “I won’t tell,” I promised, though I felt extremely uneasy about the whole thing.
“Good.” Finished with covering the last bruise, she smiled perkily and clasped her hands together. “Now let’s talk about what you’re really going to wear today, because no way are you leaving this apartment in that. I have a reputation to uphold, and if you’re going to be my roommate, you can’t embarrass me.” She shuddered in revulsion as her gaze traveled down my figure.
Instantly self-conscious from showing so much skin, I hugged my arms over my chest. “It’s the only suit I have.”
“Well, it’s hideous. Come on, I think I have something for you.” She grasped my elbow and led me to a chest of drawers, where she pulled out the top one. “Damn, I didn’t even know they still made one-pieces.” She dug inside, pausing every few seconds to toss colored chunks of Lycra, polyester, and nylon over her shoulder and onto the bed.
All Cora had were skimpy bikinis. I waved my hands no at each one she picked up and tried to hold up to my body. Stepping in reverse away from them, I refused to even consider the idea.
Finally, she grew fed up and scowled at me. “Come on, Zo. You left home and came to me so you could finally live a little.”
No, I’d come here to save her life. But I winced with apology anyway, because I hated to disappoint her. “I’m sorry. I just...I can’t wear those.”
Cora held up a hand. “Okay, fine. It’s still too soon for you. I get it.”
If she thought I’d ever wear anything that revealing, she was nuts.
I grew worried over just how much she’d changed this last year. Cursing and drinking and skimpy clothes. Those things hadn’t been Cora a year ago, and she knew they weren’t me now. So what had caused such a transformation? And why was she trying to change me too?
More importantly, what exactly had I gotten myself into by coming here?
Cora wrangled me into one of her tight tees. It was a plain gray V-neck but hugged my breasts like a second skin and was short enough to expose my navel with every other move I made. The shorts were indecently short and just as tight. Then she put me in ankle socks and white sneakers. Compared to the swimsuit she’d put on—a contraption of hot pink dental floss attached to three miniature scraps of cloth—I looked like a nun who was covered from neck to toe, but I still felt majorly exposed.
After slopping my hair into a quick, high ponytail, Cora stepped back and clapped happily. “Ooh, this might even be better. You look like an adorable virgin, ripe for the plucking.”
My jaw fell open as my face heated. “I cannot believe you just said that.”