by Lisa Eugene
I gave an aloof shrug, understanding their curiosity, but it just wasn’t my style to share my business.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, not breaking my stride.
“That bad, huh?” Carla prodded.
I didn’t bother to answer her.
“Are you coming out with us tonight? We’re going to a bar uptown,” Tina asked.
I shook my head. “I’m tired. I’ve had a long day.”
“Oh, come on,” Carla drawled. “It’ll be fun. “Won’t it be nice to let loose a little? Get dressed up. Put on something sexy.”
I chuckled. “I don’t own anything sexy. It’s not me.”
She heaved a big old what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sigh. “You’re so pretty! Why don’t you dress up your window a little better? It’ll have men wondering what’s inside the store.”
“I’m not looking for customers.”
“Right. Monika told me about your hottie,” she cooed.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed that I’d been a topic of discussion. Carla was the last person I wanted knowing anything about my personal life. I didn’t think she was intentionally mean. She was just thoughtless. Whenever she opened her mouth, fucked-up things came out.
“I have something that can fit you,” she persisted.
“I’m twice your size, Carla.”
Her brows jerked up. “No, you’re not! We’re about the same size. In fact, you may be smaller than me. What are you—a size six? It’s hard to tell with the awful clothes you always wear.” She made a hand sweep over my baggy pants and sweater. “That’s hideous—no offense.”
“None taken.” I smiled sweetly. “So’s your personality—no offense.”
She actually laughed, like I was joking. I could see Tina cringing next to her.
“Do you need to always wear those glasses?”
“Only if I want to see.”
“Maybe try some contacts.”
“Carla, drop it,” I said firmly.
She blew out a frustrated breath. I hated when people tried to give me a makeover. She wasn’t the first and she probably wouldn’t be the last. It just confirmed that there was something wrong that needed to be fixed. Not everything could be fixed with makeup and a new dress.
The angry words Rhonda and I had exchanged still rang in my head. I shouldn’t let them affect me, but they stung. I’d been stressed out all day and wanted to go home and pull the covers over my head.
“Sorry, guys. Have a great Thanksgiving.” I gave them loose hugs and we parted at the front door.
When I got home, I sat sulking on the couch. The more I thought about my meeting with Dr. Leon, the more depressed I became. Rhonda’s bold threats weighed heavily on me. I wasn’t afraid of her, but I didn’t need this shit. I’d always blended into the wall, stayed clear of people like her. I’d never garnered so much attention in my life, let alone someone’s overt hatred.
I couldn’t afford to fuck school up. I’d worked damned hard and already invested a small fortune. I’d be devastated and my parents would be furiously disappointed. I curled up on the couch, misery trapping me in its claws, squeezing until I was short of breath.
I should’ve gone for a run. It would’ve made me feel better. I blew out a breath and sat up, feeling my motivation circle the drain like bath water. Hot trickles of panic started to seep in as I considered the possible consequences of that meeting.
I pulled out my phone and ordered a large cheese pie, then I found the number to the deli where Dex had ordered our breakfast. I repeated his order. Those had been the best pancakes I’d ever had in my life. I made sure to ask for extra syrup. The deli was out of blueberry muffins, but had corn and a mixed berry they raved about. I ordered two of each. Bacon, ham, and sausages also came with the meal.
Excitement infused a burst of adrenalin into my veins. Immediately, my mood shifted. There was no better high than good food. Carbs were my drug of choice.
The meal arrived and I was in gustatory heaven for about two hours. The anxiety embracing me was replaced by a comforting hug, a familiar euphoria. I moaned in pleasure with each bite, not able to shovel the food in fast enough. For two hours I forgot about everything else except the wonderful flavors making love to my tongue and the growing feeling of fullness.
When I’d had enough, I locked myself in the bathroom. Even though I lived alone, it was my habit to always lock the bathroom door. That was rule number one. Purging was rough on my body. I’d consumed an extremely large quantity, but I was determined to retrieve every last fucking bite. It was more important now than ever. I absolutely, positively, could not gain weight.
My body was already gross enough. I gagged so much that I missed the toilet half the time and instead splattered my sweater. The smell was God-awful, but it was the trigger my brain needed to keep going. Along with that, it helped to think of the grossest things I could imagine. Worms. Hated worms. The thought of eating them made me retch violently.
I twitched uncontrollably afterwards, and it took a while before I could crawl out of the bathroom. My eyes were bloodshot from straining, and the backs of my knuckles looked like they’d been through a meat grinder. I coughed and coughed until my throat was on fire. I’d seen another spot of blood in the toilet. I hadn’t seen any since that one time. I must’ve been too vigorous in my efforts and scratched my throat again. I didn’t want to consider any other possibilities.
Lethargic, I threw myself on the couch, trying to ignore the empty containers and food fragments left over on the coffee table like debris after a carnival. The sight sickened me now and despair seeped in to mingle with budding regret and seething anger.
The familiar feeling of disgust hammered me hard. What is wrong with me? I hated myself. What a fat fuck I was…a fucking ugly-ass cow without an ounce of control. My father’s voice was loud in my head. I started to weep uncontrollably. If only I could sew my damn mouth shut.
Oh, God, I was never going to do this. I would just keep getting bigger and bigger until I exploded, until I was one of those people who needed to be airlifted through a window to get out of the house because I’d become too obese to fit through the damn door. I’d be one of those morbidly fat people who got snickered at behind their back, who got looks of pity from strangers. Moms would point at me and whisper a warning to their children.
A violence so destructive pounded in my head, making me squeeze my eyes shut to block out my harmful thoughts. I was screaming loud on the inside and my ears rang, my limbs vibrating with the noise. Why did I do this to myself? A war was being waged and I struggled, God, how I struggled. The urge to seek relief from this pain was overwhelming.
I’d once had another form of relief, one that I’d been forced to abandon long ago, but now I craved the pain, the thin sharp slices and the temporary bursts of exhilaration.
Tears trekked down my face, heavy drops that gathered like rain. I wondered if they were black, as black as the darkness eating away at me. I was tired, so very tired of the incessant worrying and the anxieties that plagued me. Every bite was measured, every swallow laced with guilt. I was simply tired of the struggle and feeling like this. Everything in my life seemed shadowed by this terrible feeling I just couldn’t turn off.
How many promises had I made to myself, only to break them the next day? How hard did I push myself? For what?
Guilt. Hate. Anger. Fear. They constantly fed the darkness. And I just wanted it to stop. I needed peace.
I sniffled and wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my sweater.
Why would anyone love or invest in me? I wasn’t worth it.
It was only a matter of time before Dex realized he’d made a mistake. I would lose him. God knows what I’d said in my sleep. That dream had been ugly, then it had morphed into the recurrent dream I’d been having about Jake. Only this time he’d been as scared as I was.
A noise choked up from my throat. Painful memories filled my head. I’d promised myself once to not let them rule me, to strip them
of their power. More promises broken.
Maybe Dex and I should’ve stayed best friends. I shouldn’t let him get too close. He’d peer into this dark well inside me. He’d witness all the ugliness. He’d hate me. And I couldn’t bear for him to hate me. I’d made the mistake in thinking a relationship might work. He didn’t deserve this—a woman who was fucked up and depressed half the time.
It was only a matter of time before I completely lost my heart…and maybe my mind.
My stomach churned with a sharp, sticking pain. It felt like acid was burning away the lining. Miserable, I dragged myself from the couch and stumbled to the bathroom for a few more antacid tabs. I was pulling open the medicine cabinet when the doorbell rang. I was pretty sure I’d received everything I’d ordered. Who the hell could be at the door? I walked through my bedroom and back to the other room. I pulled open the door and stood staring in shock.
A man stood just outside my door holding the largest bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen. They were gorgeous, the aromatic fragrance almost knocking me over. I blinked, thinking he must be at the wrong door.
“Are you Alexa Kennedy?”
“Y-yes.”
He handed me a card, and frowning, I opened it and read the message.
Stats,
Miss you like crazy
Can’t wait for our date tomorrow night
Get ready for lots of rhythm and horniness
A chuckle rolled out of me, followed by deep, tormenting sobs.
Chapter Fifteen
Failure is never an option, Alexa.
Yes, Daddy.
You must stay focused.
Yes, Daddy.
The only way to stay focused is through hard work and pain.
Yes, Daddy.
Alexa
I spent the next day in bed with the shades pulled down, hoping to block out the world, block out my thoughts. I was so depressed, I couldn’t bring myself to get dressed. My limbs each carried twenty-pound weights and my stomach ached like a nagging tooth. My alarm sounded around four p.m. I dragged myself into the shower, letting steam surround me and invade my senses. The warm water sluiced over my body and I tried to force away my lingering melancholy.
I’d spoken to Monika about what had gone down in Dr. Leon’s office. She hadn’t elucidated much, except to say she’d been called in and questioned about the events at the locker. She’d told Dr. Leon what happened, about how Rhonda had gotten in my grill first. I wasn’t sure I believed her.
The thought of seeing Dex put a spring in my step and a smile on my lips. He’d called last night and I’d barely spoken to him. I just hadn’t been in a good place. I’d thanked him for the flowers and made a lame excuse about being tired. He’d wished me good night, signed off the phone after five minutes. It was the shortest conversation we’d ever had.
The shower rejuvenated me. Sifting through my closet, I gave some thought to what Carla had said about dressing up my window. I guess there was one customer I hoped to let into the store. I really hated taking advice from her, but it couldn’t hurt to try to look nice for Dex. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said I didn’t own anything sexy. The dress I’d worn to the engagement party was the nicest thing in my closet. I bought clothes based on the amount of coverage they gave me, not at all to be fashionable. The bigger, the better.
In the end, I went with a long flowing skirt and a sweater with a scoop neck. Usually I’d wear a turtleneck or something underneath, but I decided it might not hurt to show a little skin. I left my hair down, blowing it out so it was straighter and a little less…big. I added mascara and lip gloss, and I was done. I couldn’t do anything about the glasses. Unless Dex wanted to tie a string between the two of us and lead me around, I’d have to leave them on.
I stood back and surveyed my accomplishments, fighting the urge to be critical. I chuckled to myself.
Not bad for a girl on the edge of a mental breakdown.
Ten minutes later, my doorbell rang and like a teen, butterflies started flapping in my stomach. I walked through my rose-scented living room and approached the door. Spur-of-the-moment, I pulled off my glasses just before I opened the door.
The biggest, most handsome blur stood in my doorway. Wait—the blurred image looked different. I shoved my glasses back on just as strong arms pulled me tight against a hard body.
“Dex! You got a hair cut!” I exclaimed, pulling back to examine him.
He grinned down at me and my world shifted. His longish hair now fell in shorter, subdued waves to his ear. He looked more serious, less edgy. The cut somehow made the color of his eyes pop, and the slate gray was stunning on his beautiful face. His dimple cut his left cheek, accentuating his smile. God, this man was hot. Was he really here to take me on a date?
“You’ve done something to yours, too. You look beautiful, Stats.”
Self-conscious, I raised a hand to my hair, hesitantly acknowledging the effort. I shrugged, smiling back. Our gazes locked and the warm appreciation in his eyes heated my cheeks.
“I missed you like crazy,” he admitted softly, pulling me closer.
I slid my arms beneath his leather jacket, splaying my fingers over the tight muscles of his back. His lips descended on mine. He kissed me hard, ravenously, delving in deep to provoke a string of moans from my throat. He lit up my shadows, chased the darkness away. I loved the connection I always felt with him, like our hearts were beating out the same rhythm.
His questing hands found their way under my sweater, and without breaking our kiss he dragged his palms behind me, sliding against my skin and beneath my skirt into my panties. A shiver beat through me, and at that moment I wished I hadn’t been wearing grandma underwear.
Warm fingers cupped my ass and he pulled me firmly against him, grinding his hips against me. Our kiss turned hot and reckless. He slashed his mouth over mine and I responded to each driving invasion and swirl of his tongue. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples ached with sensitivity. I pushed up on tip-toe, trying to eliminate any atom of space between us. Breathing heavy, I swung my hips, pushing against his erection.
A noise sounded in the hallway, loosening the tension in our bodies.
“Shit!” Dex cursed, stepping back. He ran his fingers through his hair. Passion smoked his eyes to a murky gray and shortened his breath. “You drive me crazy,” he breathed.
I stared back, awed that I had could do this to him. I smiled. “You do the same to me.”
A seductive grin tickled the corner of his mouth. “I’d love nothing more than to spend our first date in bed, but we’re on a tight schedule.” He looked down at his watch, then back at me. “You ready?”
I nodded. “Thanks again for the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”
“I hope you like roses,” he smiled.
“They’re my favorite. They’re beautiful, timeless. The flower has been around for a long time.”
“Really?”
“A rose fossil was discovered in Colorado. They estimate it’s age at about thirty five million years.”
I could tell he was holding back a smile. “Is that so?”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead, then cupped my chin and tilted my face up to his.
“You are beautiful.” His brows pleated. “Are you okay? You didn’t sound like yourself on the phone last night.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled, thinking how many times in my life I’d said those words and not meant them, but Dex was here, and I was fine. Right now.
He looked unconvinced and I laughed, reaching up to tousle his neat waves into shaggy layers. The look fit him even better. He looked irreverently handsome and delightfully puckish.
“Just some more drama at school.” I grabbed my coat and gloves. He took my coat, holding it so I could shrug it on. “I’ll tell you about it in the car and you can tell me about your trip.”
He pulled open the door and I was just about to tease him about what a gentleman he was when he slapped my ass and grinned just as I was slipp
ing into the hall.
In the car, I recapped the events in Dr. Leon’s office as well as Rhonda’s confessions. As always, he patiently listened. A kernel of joy popped open when he grew as angry as I was over Rhonda’s antics. Again, he offered to kick her ass, but I reminded him I was already in enough trouble for threatening to do so myself.
Dex still hadn’t told me what he planned for our date. My curiosity grew more and more as we headed toward the outskirts of Manhattan. I swiveled my head around as we traded the noise of the city and the long shadows of skyscrapers for tall leafless trees and a neat, winding drive. It was a dark, bleak evening and there was nothing but stillness all around us.
I was absolutely speechless when we pulled to a stop in front of a small stone house. I looked around, confused and surprised at the strangeness of our location. Eyebrows raised, I looked to Dex whose expression gave nothing away.
“Um…ah…Dex? This is a graveyard.”
He turned to me, looking chagrinned. “Okay, before you go running and screaming, thinking that I’m a complete wacko, just bear with me.”
I bit my bottom lip, wondering what he was up to. A nervous laugh shook out of my throat, mostly because of the worried look on his face. “This is certainly an unconventional place for a date.”
He squeezed my hand, then drew it to his lips for a kiss. We both stepped out of the car just as a somber man approached in a black coat.
“Mr. Blakewell,” he nodded politely. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Dex introduced the man as the caretaker of the cemetery and we followed silently behind him. We walked the line of a narrow path, and up a short hill. My gaze kept flicking to Dex’s face, looking for clues as to why we were here. I could read nothing in his stoic expression except for the fact that he seemed a bit nervous. The caretaker finally stopped, indicating a small grave nestled between several other neat rectangles. Dex took my hand and led me to it as the caretaker stepped away.
My breath stalled in my lungs when I saw the name carved elegantly into the small headstone: Jake Madison.
Surprised and overwhelmed, I looked to Dex. He had his lip caught between his teeth, his eyebrows raised apprehensively.