Breakaway Baby: A Novel by Rebecca Zorg

Author:Rebecca Zorg [Zorg, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2024-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Leila

In the hazy space between dream and reality, I inhale deeply, comforted by the sizzling scent of bacon. I stretch my fingertips over my head as my body slowly returns to life. But as consciousness creeps in, recollection hits me like a blinding ray of morning light, and my eyes snap open.

Ragnar slept over. I give myself a moment to soak that in, and my heart flips before it drops. That creepy text from that unknown number. Text. Not Instagram message. No one else has tried to "warn" me away from anyone except Nick, and now he has my number. My pulse skyrockets. How was I able to fall asleep after that?

I force myself to take a deep, centering breath. Bacon. Focus on the smell of bacon. I swallow the mouthwatering scent and let it coax me from the nightsweat-tangled sheets. In the light of day, everything will be fine. Maybe the texts weren’t as threatening as one-in-the-morning-me thought they were.

Padding barefoot down the short hallway, I pause in the kitchen archway. Morning light washes over Ragnar’s impressive physique as he stands focused at the stovetop, spatula in hand.

Sensing my presence, Ragnar turns and flashes me an easy grin. “Ah, just in time,” he says. “I hope you’re hungry. Whipped up eggs, bacon, the works.”

“You did all this?” I ask, my stomach grumbling at the sight of golden pancakes. My eyes flicker to the time. “It’s not even seven o’clock.”

“Indeed.” He smirks, presenting two heaping plates with an exaggerated flourish, the rich scents enveloping me smoky-sweet. “I need to leave soon, and I figured you would need to wake up for work eventually.”

“I didn’t even know I had half these ingredients.”

Ragnar rubs the back of his neck, looking adorably sheepish. “I had some groceries delivered from 7/11—it was the only place open with breakfast items. Wanted to properly thank you for letting me crash here last night. But I wasn’t sure what you liked, so…”

Warmth blooms in my chest. “Are you kidding? This incredible breakfast is thanks enough, trust me. I’m touched you went to so much effort.”

I take a bite of syrup-soaked French toast. The fluffy bread melts in my mouth, contrasting with the salty sizzle of bacon. Ragnar takes a sip of black coffee as he watches me indulge.

“Clearly, I’m keeping you around just for your impressive cooking skills,” I mumble around another huge bite.

Ragnar chuckles, his eyes dancing. “I think I can live with that.”

I bite my lip, tamping down the momentary lift in my mood. No matter how tempting the appeal of ignorance is, I can’t shrug off the threats so easily. Not with a helpless life depending on me now. Ragnar has been kind to me—sweet, even—but do I know him?

Picking up on my unease, Ragnar’s grin fades. “Hey, is everything okay?”

I avoid his searching stare. “Mhm. Everything’s fine,” I say, flashing a smile before averting my attention to slicing a breakfast sausage.

“Please don’t shut me out, Leila,” Ragnar says, and the tenderness in his voice nearly makes me feel bad.

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