Chapter 23

Aurora’s POV

A distant ringing pulls me from sleep, and I rub my gritty eyes. The faraway ringing stops as I come back to my senses. My head isn’t spinning as badly, and my stomach doesn’t hurt at the moment. I do feel a little bit better now. The ache I felt earlier is gone too, replaced by a lighter and softer feeling.

Maybe all I needed was a good nap.

After Jace dropped me off, I immediately went to bed, wanting to forget about how Thorne had snapped at me. I don’t blame him for being upset for my bad work, so I push the thoughts away and stand up.

The growling in my stomach surprises me, in a good way. I haven’t really felt hungry since I’ve been sick.

Before the hunger can be replaced by nausea, I make my way downstairs and dig through the refrigerator. I try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Thorne had someone stock it with enough food to last me several weeks.

He didn’t say anything about it, so I didn’t mention it. At first, I wondered if he felt bad for snapping at me for my mistake, but that’s probably not it. He might have done it to keep me from going out too much or because of what happened at the club. It could also just be part of our contract that I forgot about.

Either way, I’m grateful because I don’t have to spend my own money on groceries for once.

So, as I make myself some eggs and toast, I think about what to do next. I want to stop making errors at work, which means I need to get better. Doctor visits or hospital visits cost too much, and since I don’t have much, I need to find another way to get rid of whatever sickness I have.

I wonder briefly, as I stick my cheesy bread in the oven, if there is a low-income doctor somewhere around. I almost laugh at the thought. This isn’t the Human Quarter. I know from experience that everything around me is expensive and not meant for people with low income.

It’s meant for people like Thorne who either heal quickly or have a lot of money. I bet Thorne could walk into any hospital, flash his fancy black card, and get whatever treatment he needed…

My mind falters at the thought as I remember the black card Thorne gave me to pay my debts. I still have it. He never asked for me to return the card, so it’s still in my purse- in my wallet.

In turn, thinking about the card reminds me of how much money he has, and then my mind wanders. The beep of the oven does nothing to pull me out of my thoughts, and my cheeks heat as I remember how I had gripped the card in my hand while we had sex.

Did Thorne leave it with me so I could use it when I needed it, or did he just simply forget to take it back?

I glance at my purse, where it hangs on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

Before I know what I’m doing, I find myself sifting through my purse, grabbing my wallet, and pulling out the black card. It shines under the lights in the kitchen, taunting me. To use it or not to use it… What would happen if I used it?

Would Thorne be notified?

I shake my head. What am I thinking? I’m not going to use his money without permission. I can’t. He’s already angry at me, and I don’t want to receive any more of his resentment. I don’t know how long this contract relationship is going to last but making him hate me by stealing from him isn’t something I’m willing to do.

So, I slide the card back into my wallet. My hand brushes against my phone, making it light up, and I nearly fall over.

There are five missed calls from Thorne.

Thorne’s POV

My phone rings through my car system, and I pull over, answering it.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t ignore my calls, Aurora.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had called,” she rushes to say. There’s worry tinting her tone, so I try to tone down the anger in my voice. “I was asleep.”

Sighing, I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and let my head fall back against the headrest.

“I’m fine,” she says.

“Are you?” I grit, glancing out the window as I remember her pale face. “You didn’t look fine. Are you still sick?”

“I’m f—”

“Don’t say you’re fine again.” She stays silent at my order and guilt eats at me again. “I can tell there’s something wrong. I didn’t mean to push you so hard that you got sick.”

Turning the car around, I head back to my office. I don’t need to bother her when she’s sick. She probably doesn’t want to see me, anyway. Both times I scolded Aurora come to mind, along with the fear that I’d seen in her eyes. Ever since I met her, she’s been soft and a bit jumpy, but she’s been jumpier since I first scolded her.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers. “I’m just not feeling well. I-I think I might need to go to the doctor.”

She explains that she hasn’t been feeling well since the morning after being taken to the club. She tells me about nausea and dizziness, babbling and losing herself in the conversation. I let her talk as I climb out of my car and head inside.

Ivy sits at my desk when I enter my office, and I motion to the door, silently telling her to leave as Aurora says something about the doctor again.

Ivy stomps away, annoyed at my dismissal, but I don’t care to deal with her nonsense right now. I take my seat, and I flip the phone to the speaker.

“And even though I took medicine, it hasn’t helped much,” Aurora says. “It was just regular over the counter stuff, though, since I haven’t been to the doctor.”

“Then you should go to the doctor.”

There’s a pause of silence for the first time since I turned my car around.

“I feel at fault for you being sick, so go to the doctor and use the credit card I gave you to pay for any treatment or medicine you need,” I tell her, realizing she may not have gone due to her lack of money.

After all, it’s what puts us in this situation.

Aurora stays silent longer, prompting me to speak without thinking, “Do you need me to go with you?”

“No!” She blurts. “I’m okay to go alone.” The slight waver in her tone tells me otherwise, but I don’t comment on it. I’m not her mother or her husband, and she’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need me, and I don’t need to get more attached.

“Alright. If you need anything just use the card.”

There’s a quiet pause before she whispers, “Thank you.”

The line clicks as the call ends, and I sigh. I really need to do something about this growing affection for the human woman. Humans are nothing but greedy leaches… her smiling face and kind eyes pop into my mind and I shake my head.

No.

Aurora is not any different than the rest, and the sooner I get that thought in my head, the better.