Page 613 of Cheaters: A Dark Romance Anthology

He wipes the fresh tears from my cheek, then holds me closer.

No words.

Leaning my head against his chest, I listen to his steady heartbeat. I can fix this. I can make it go away. I'll be a good girl. That's what good girls do.

* * *

I rush to the toilet, throwing up for the fourth time today. It’s been that way for the last week. I need another hit. Just one, to stop the nausea. To get rid of the constant voices. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I flush, then turn to the sink. After washing my hands and face, I stare at my reflection.

I barely recognize the person in the mirror. Sunken eyes attest to my lack of sleep. I've lost even more weight. I can't remember the last time I brushed my matted hair. I shower, at least. The scalding water helps ease the pain.

Scowling at my reflection, I pull open my vanity drawer to grab a hair brush. I should try more. I dig through the contents of the drawer, but instead of finding my brush, my hands curl around a razor blade.

Picking it up, I stare at the small, silver blade. The voices inside my head scream. They tell me I'm not a good girl.

I'm a bad girl.

I'm a dirty whore.

A few, fat tears fall, splashing in the sink. I glance down at my stomach. It's not real. I can fix it. My hand tightens around the blade.

The door to the bathroom swings open. I drop the blade. It lands back in the drawer.

“Ka'u Lokelani,” my rose, it’s what Damien’s been calling me every day now, “are you hungry?”

“No.” It’s always the same question. Always the same name. I’m not even me anymore. I’m just a flower, a plant. Growing. Supposed to be growing. But, I’m wilting.

He comes right behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I made you an appointment. Next week, to check up on you and the baby . . .” Damien keeps talking, but I don’t hear a word he says.

I want to scream at him. Yell that it’s not a baby. I can’t see it or feel it. It cannot be real. But, I can fix it. I can make it go away.

“Your parents called me . . .”

“Huh?” I jerk my head toward him. My heart stops.

“They want to have dinner at their house.”

“No.” It comes out a whisper. My head spins. Everything turns cloudy. My knees buckle. I grasp the vanity counter for support.

He kisses the top of my head. “We can tell them after your appointment.”

“No . . . How did they–”

“Your father called Kai.” The lawyer. His hands trail from my shoulders down to my forearms. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a family?”

“I don’t.”

“Kalena,” he hugs me tight, resting his head against mine, “whatever happened between you and them, they are ready to put it behind them. They are your ohana. They love you.”

Love.

That word. My insides roll. I spin out of Damien’s grasp. Tears stream from my eyes. It’s not real. None of it.

I hear Damien’s steps, but I can’t see him. Everything fades. Right before the darkness creeps in and takes hold, I feel Damien wrap his arms around me. More tears fall.

I don’t stop them.

“It’s all right, ka'u Lokelani. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispers the words, stroking my hair as he holds me tight.

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