“How dare you disgrace our family name. Living in a hotel like a gypsy.” She tsks, and I can imagine her waving her finger at me like she’s done more times than I can count over the years when I’ve disappointed her.
“Pack your things, and come back home. If anyone has found out about your little stunt, I’ll tell them you were enjoying the spa services and checking in on your property.”
“I’m not coming home.” Where the gumption to make that statement came, I’ll never know. Maybe some latent juju from Nick popping to the surface. My stomach twists and rolls with every breath I take.
She skips over my comment and continues her rant. “And how dare you miss a date I scheduled for you. Do you have any idea what position you put me and your father in? This is the son of one of his top business partners. It’s a coup that he’s even willing to consider merging our families with a little piece of nothing like you. Thank God you have a pretty face, because the good Lord knows what you’re doing to the rest of your hideous body. Marking yourself like a common criminal.”
“Mother, stop…”
“You are so beneath your genetics it’s despicable. Every day I wonder why it wasn’t you instead of your brother. At least he could have been cured of his disease.”
Rage unlike anything I’ve ever experienced pours through my system like red-hot lava.
“He was gay! Hannon was gay, not sick! He didn’t have a disease. You and Father threatened the only good thing he had in his life. So he took that option away. It’s all your fault he’s dead!” I screech into the phone.
The cab driver ignores me completely. I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore.
“Don’t be so melodramatic. Hannon was weak. I’m training you to be strong. Don’t you see that?” Her voice is ugly and laced with hatred. “One day you will thank me for setting you straight. Now I expect you to be back in your room and dressed to entertain. We’re having a ladies luncheon tomorrow with all of your friends.”
“They are not my friends.” Each word she spits out makes the holes inside of me larger, to the point where I don’t know where I am or who I am anymore. “I’m not coming home.” It’s the last thing I say before I power off my phone.
I have one destination in mind. One place to go, to take myself where the hurt subsides and the ugly bleeds out. I need it badly.
The remaining minutes fly by in a haze of self-doubt and loathing as we roll up to my hotel. I pay the cab and rush to the private penthouse elevator. I don’t look up from the floor because I don’t want anyone to stop me from where I need to be. What I need to do.
The guilt and the hate war inside me.
Dr. Hart doesn’t want to treat me anymore. She doesn’t care about me.
My mother hates me.
I hate me.
Go to Nick’s. He’ll be there for you. Hannon’s voice slips into my subconscious, but I press against my temples. Not now.
I need this.
My keycard opens the door, and I rush into the bedroom and then the en suite bathroom, where I pull out the drawer. Everything inside falls to the floor in a clatter of makeup products, brushes, combs, and the small zip-up kit I’ve hidden in the very back. The one I haven’t used since I met Nick.
I open the two-inch by four-inch case that used to hold nail clippers and pull out a shiny, new double-sided razor. I push up the sleeves on my forearms, point the tip of the blade to my skin and press in. A bright crimson drop of blood appears and with it…my salvation.
Digging in, I swipe down in a three-inch line. Blood pools and drips down my arm, but it’s not enough. The pain is never enough. My tears are scalding hot as they run down my cheeks. More. I need more. I stick a new bare expanse of skin, lower than I’ve gone before. The henna is nowhere near this this area. I don’t care. I flick my wrist fast this time. Opening a larger wound, digging deeper. Farther than I’ve gone before.
Pain, nothing but blessed pain fills the empty void surrounding my heart and mind.
I blink around the tears and let the instant bliss kick in. It’s heady, reminding me of when Nick is kissing me. Gripping the blade tightly in my palm, I feel the double-sided razor slice my skin. I close my eyes and slump to the side along the floor.
It’s okay now. I’m better here, I tell myself as my vision fades in and out. Red pools around my arm and wrist, making a small puddle on the tile floor. So much blood. But it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters.
I’m nobody.
Not worthy.
Even Nick will forget about me soon enough.
Nick, the sweet, brute of a man, is the last thing I envision when the world around me goes blessedly black.
Chapter Thirteen
It is important for a throat centered individual to nurture honesty and self-control. If the chakra is blocked, lies and untruths come to the surface more easily.
HONOR
I dip in and out of consciousness seeing nothing but white.
White walls.
White blankets.
White coat.
I blink a few times and feel my hand being lifted, held by the warmth of another. I turn my face to the side and find Sean in his white lab coat. Standing next to him is a brunette woman I’ve seen before but can’t place.
“Bunny? Wake up, honey.” He pats my hand and kisses the top as the brunette walks to the other side of the bed.
She opens my eyelids with thumb and forefinger and then flicks on a light, blinding me. “Dr. Tillman, her
