Page 57 of Malevolent Secrets

There are so many risks. I could lose my job at the club and with it, every chance I have of finding out the truth about Jeremy. That’s something I cannot allow to happen. But if Lorenzo finds out, there's no telling what he will do.

And then there's the issue of Jeremy. Guilt washes over me afresh, the way it always does when thoughts of Jeremy permeate my thoughts. I stay cuddled up on my couch, beneath layers and layers of blankets. I have packed Jeremy’s pictures away, I have packed practically everything that reminds me of him away, I can't bear to even look at them.

I still cannot believe that I am pregnant. I'm not even twenty-six yet. I press my palm against my belly, expecting to maybe feel something. A pulse? A flutter? A kick? A bit early for that, I guess. I feel nothing. I feel like I AM nothing.

I close my eyes and prepare to drift off to sleep when I hear my doorbell ring. Thinking it might be Renee arriving early to drag me to the appointment she's been begging me to set up, I drag myself off the sofa with the blankets draped over my shoulders. The doorbell rings again, and I suppress a groan.

“I’m here, quit it.” I unlatch the deadbolt and open the door, and I come first to face with Lorenzo.

I stumble backward and would've landed on my ass if it weren't for his hand stretching out to grab me by the waist. He pulls me to him and his scent infiltrates my nostrils and instantly calms whatever nausea I've been feeling. Maybe the baby realizes that Daddy just arrived.

The anxiety spreads through my chest like dark clouds on a rainy day and I try not to let it show how nervous I am, a task I'm sure I'm failing at.

“Are you sick?”

I wish desperately that I could decipher his tone. Is he mad? Is he curious? Is he worried? But his eyes give nothing away.

“Yes.”

“You didn't tell me.”

“I sent an email to Carla. She Okayed my leave. I didn't think there was any need to say anything to you.” Oh yeah, I can definitely read his eyes now. The anger that creeps into them makes me shiver, right down to my toes.

“Tell me, Daniella, if I wasn't clear when I told you what working for me means.”

“Lorenzo, I-”

“What part of it wasn't clear?”

I stumble back, and the blanket drops from my body. His eyes rake over my body, and I remember that I'm only wearing a camisole with no bra underneath it, and very short shorts. I gulp when the heat of his stare causes goosebumps to erupt in my skin.

“I needed a little time away.”

“So you were avoiding me.” It’s not a question for which I'm grateful because I'm sick and tired of all the lying I've had to do with him.

“This isn't a good time, Lorenzo. You could've called.”

“Would you have picked up?”

No. His eyes tell me that he knows the answer already, and I sigh.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.” If I didn't know better, I would think that he actually really cares about me. But no, I know him, and I know that he probably just sees me as some sort of property of his that he has to look out for.

“I already went. I’ll be all right.”

He moves closer to me so suddenly that I don't have the time to move back. He flattens his palm on my forehead, feeling for my temperature. It is such a domestic thing. I didn’t even think he knew how to do that.

I’m frozen in place while his hand goes from my head down to my neck and then my exposed collarbone.

There’s nothing sexual about the way he is touching me, but my body, my stupid, traitorous body, reacts anyway. I feel my nipples harden and I don’t even have to look down at my chest to know that they are sticking out and poking through the thin fabric of the camisole.

His eyes lock onto my nipples, but he doesn’t even react. My face flushes with embarrassment, but I still can’t move away.

“You feel fine.”

Finally, his hands drop away from me, and I exhale.

“I told you I was all right.”

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