Page 591 of Cheaters: A Dark Romance Anthology

Sitting on the edge of my bed in only a pair of shorts, he waits patiently.

“Sorry. I must have drifted off.” The lie tastes like bitter ash in my mouth.

“That's the fifth time in a week. Are you getting sick?” He furrows his brow as his hand reaches for me.

Sick.

Sick, just not the way he thinks. Still, it's an easy answer. Yet, another lie he would see right through. I could never fake enough symptoms.

My eyes dart across his tattooed chest to his shoulder. “No. I was . . . Diving . . . Swimming with the turtles at Maunalua Bay. I must have exhausted myself more than usual.”

His shoulders relax, his eyes darting over my features, searching. Finally, he squeezes my hand.

“Well, next time be more careful. Take Kane with you.” He glances around, then reaches for my nightstand. “Where is your phone?”

I catch his hand, pulling it back to me. “It's um . . . I think it's in my purse.”

Bringing my hand to his lips, Damien kisses my knuckles, then leans down and grabs my purse from the floor, pulling out my phone.

“Here,” he presses a few buttons, then sets it on my nightstand, “I programmed Kane's number into it. You want to go anywhere, call him.” He runs his fingers through my dark hair. “Take it easy today. Get a shower, clean up, breakfast is waiting. Giovanni will be here at ten to take your measurements.”

Breakfast?And why is Giovanni coming?

My head jerks toward the window, but a white wall stares back at me. I glance over at the clock: seven after nine. It must be nine in the morning.

That means I passed out all day and night. I close my eyes to keep from yelling, but the voices are quiet.

No more. That was the last time. I tell it to myself several times, even though I know it's another lie.As soon as the darkness returns, I'll go right back. I can't live with the voices and memories.

“Yeah,” I force a smile, “that's fine.”

As long as he doesn't know how dirty I am, it's fine. Everything is fine.

* * *

I stand naked in my changing room. I don’t know how much time has passed, just that Giovanni and his team are here. It’s a chaotic mix of fabric and scissors while I stand like a statue. It doesn’t seem real. Doesn’t feel real.

All I can see are his eyes. His smile. All I can hear are the words.

Dirty. Whore.

I squeeze my temples, willing it to stop.

But the voices have already taken over.

* * *

Glancing around my small room, I make sure my door is closed, and no one is watching. Using all of my strength, I bite my bottom lip and hoist my mattress up an inch. With my free hand, I wad my dirty panties into a ball, then shove them deep under the mattress, with all my other dirty pairs.Daddy always makes sure I’m clean. I don’t know why I keep bleeding.

I can't let Daddy find them. He'll yell at me for being dirty. Then punish me. Then force me to bathe again, and then check that I'm clean. I shiver, even though it's hot inside.

I drop the mattress, then glance around again to make sure no one saw. I want to curl back up in bed, hug my favorite stuffed pig. But I can't let Daddy catch me. He can't see that I'm dirty, that I'm a bad girl. He'll get mad. Hurrying to my dresser, I search for a clean pair of panties.

There are none.

I search through the entire drawer two more times.

No panties.

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