Page 22 of Bound to a Monster

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, yeah, the implication was clear. But seriously, I’m okay. Focus on you and your family, all right?”

“We’ll see.” She stretches and yawns. “You gonna be here late tonight?”

“That’s the plan. I’m surprised Alex let you out.”

“He’s tracking me through my phone.” She says it deadpan, and I honestly don’t know if she’s kidding or not. I decide I’d rather not know. “I just knew you’d be here, and I wanted to check in.”

“You checked. I’m good. Don’t let your conscience bug you anymore, okay?”

She shrugs, gets up, and gives me a hug. Once she’s gone, I turn back to the inventory in front of me and the glass of whiskey at my elbow.

Dad’s going to die. It’s been a long time coming. I’m doing it for myself—for control of the family, for the future of this store and everything we’ve built—but I’m also doing it for Nat and Alex and my future niece or nephew. That’s why I’m getting marriedtoo. All to keep them safe. All to protect what I care about the most in this world.

From that fucking monster.

My grip on my glass tightens, and I have to force myself to relax.

These fucking emotions. This darkness, this hunger. I thought I’d conquered them already, and it’s killing me that they’re back.

But I’m not a kid anymore, and this time, the real cause of my broken soul is going to suffer for all the fucked-up shit he did to me.

And I’ll never let him hurt anyone else.

Chapter 8

Carmie

Ifelt sick after meeting Lev for the second time.

When I got home, I was in total shock. Even though the Mob Girlies kept blowing up my phone, I didn’t have the energy to answer them. I felt totally drained and broken, and the idea of trying to explain that I had a stupid one-night stand with the man who’s going to be my husband and we lied to each other about it just feels way too daunting.

Which means that secret has to stay with me.

But it’s making my body feel itchy, and the sickness doesn’t go away. I throw up that night, and while that makes me feel a little bit better, I’m back at it again the next morning.

I’m a total wreck.

All the next day, I keep seeing Lev’s face in that sitting room. The pure loathing in his expression. The disgust in his eyes. Like he was sickened by the mere thought of being with me. That night was precious to me—filthy and crazy, butprecious, because it was all mine. Something I chose to do outside of my character purely for my own benefit and for nobody else.

Now it’s ruined, destroyed by that asshole, and I don’t know how I’m going to face this marriage now.

I throw up again in the afternoon. And again in the evening. By the time the next morning rolls around and I’m throwing up in the toilet, I’m starting to think this isn’t psychological.

My period’s late. It’s only a few days, and given the way things have been lately, I kind of wasn’t letting myself worry about it. I have enough going on as it is. But as I wash my face and stare at myself in the mirror, a deeply grim thought occurs to me.

What if?

It’s stupid. There’s no way. But thinking back, it’s not like we were particularly safe.

I just thought it was my first time. There’s no way I could get pregnant my first time.

And now…

I wait for my dad to sequester himself in his office before sneaking out of the house. Lucky for me, Luca and Daniel both got their own apartments years ago, and they won’t have any idea what’s going on. I hurry to the Rite Aid around the corner, buy a pregnancy test at the self-checkout kiosk, and wrap it up in two plastic bags on my way out.

I should’ve had Lev wrap it twice that night.

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