Page 107 of Filthy Little Pretties
It only takes a moment before a heavy breath leaves me, bringing with it a guttural sob. One after the other, they exorcise from my body, shaking my chest, unleashing tears to stain my pillow.
I don’t know what time it is, but telling by the sun, it’s still late afternoon. My swollen eyes blink open wider to Vic standing at the side of my bed. Have I been sleeping all day? Doesn’t matter. My head feels heavy, and my body’s still tired. Vic sets a silver plate with a delicate blue Tiffany teacup and saucer down on my bedside table.
“Miss, I’ve brought you some tea.” He smiles kindly and holds up my phone. “And your cell. It’s been making quite a bit of noise the whole afternoon.”
I can barely acknowledge it, so I nod and swallow down the dryness in my throat. “Please turn it off. I don’t want to speak to anyone. And no visitors either.”
He frowns, looking down at me, then relaxes his expression.
“Consider it done. If I may…” He pauses before adding, “If Mr. McCallister doesn’t see what a prize you are, then it’s really his loss.”
I wish our only problem was that he didn’t want me.
“Thank you,” I answer, warmed by his kindness. My chin starts to tremble. “Will you please cancel dinner with my father for me?”I can’t handle that today. I need to catch my breath first.
“Already taken care of. He understands, miss. More than he lets on. I believe he was looking forward to dinner tonight.”
I want to ask what he means, but I’m done talking now. My eyes begin to sting with my unshed tears, overwhelmed by my emotions and with gratitude as he looks down at me.
“Can I get you anything else?”
He’s being so nice, so caring, and he doesn’t have to be. It makes the dam break again.
“Oh, miss, have I said something to upset you?”
I shake my head, wiping my eyes. “No. I just really needed someone to be nice to me, Vic. So, thank you.”
He pats my shoulder gently. “You make it very difficult to not be nice to you, Donovan. You’re more than you give yourself credit for.”
My hands cover my face as I cry into them, thankful for what he’s saying. Nobody loved me. Not really. Not until Liam, Grey, and I were thrown together when we were children. But it wasn’t until now that I realize I was never loved until Grey. And now, my chest will stay cracked open, unable to beat without him. I did this. I refused to choose him even though I always did.
Victor brushes my hair from my face. “Would you like me to sit with you?”
I don’t want to be alone.
I think the words, but I don’t answer as I cry. The bed dips and his hand gently rubs my back. “Shh, now. Shh, now. Sleep, miss. You’re not alone.”
I do eventually sleep, but even in my sleep, I don’t escape Grey.
This time when I wake up, my eyes are dry and all the emotions that were rumbling around my chest have settled. I stretch my arms out, pushing off the blanket, and sit up, taking in a deep breath. I’m alone. The room is dark, but my opened curtains let in the night’s sky. Stars shine bright, shimmering against the black.
I slip my legs off the side of the bed, eyeing the silver tray Vic brought earlier. My legs feel heavy from the boots I’m still wearing, so I lean down and take them off, letting them stay where they fall. Hair from my fallen messy bun brushes my arm, and I realize my jacket is missing. I must’ve taken it off while I slept.
Standing, I pad over to my closet. After removing the rest of my uniform, I open my dresser drawer to grab a sleep shirt, but I’m held frozen, held prisoner by my heart, fixed to the shirt that’s folded on the top.
It’s the shirt I wore of Grey’s at the lake. The one I stole and slept in almost every night since. My fingers brush the fabric as I pull it out, slipping it over my shoulders, feeling the hem hit midthigh. I raise the collar to my nose and inhale, but it doesn’t smell like him anymore, just like detergent. I swallow, hating what a twit I am. This is so dumb. He treats me like shit, because he’s mad, basically throws a tantrum, and I’m in my closet about to cry again over a shirt.
I hate him.God, I wish that were true.
Leaving the closet, I let my bare feet sink into the plush carpet and head toward my window seat. Sitting down, I pull the extra-large T-shirt over my bent knees in an effort to make the world feel a little bit smaller, or safer, as I look out. My arms hug my legs, my chin finding a spot on my knees as I think.
The world looks the same as it did yesterday. It’s a strange thought, but I guess I assumed that without him somehow it would change, that the stars would become duller or something. But it hasn’t. It’s all still there in its grandeur. The only change is that I don’t want to look anymore.
I close my eyes, hugging myself tighter, when my door opens and calls my attention. My chin presses to my shoulder, and I smile at Vic as he walks in.
“I’m glad you’re awake, miss.” He looks flustered. “I realize the time…” My eyes glance at the clock, seeing it’s a little after 1:00 a.m. Shifting back to Vic, I take my knees from under my shirt and stand, taking in that he’s in pajamas and a robe.
“Vic,” I question, worried, “is my father okay?”
