Page 5 of Buried in Blood

A few seconds go by before I hear the lock click open. I twist the handle, entering the sauna-like room. Fuck, how hot is the water? I turn to look at Harmony, and her make-up runs down her cheeks as if she were crying. Harmony crying? I almost laugh.

“Why the fuck do you look like shit?” I say.

“I was in the shower… sorry.” Her response isn’t genuine. Her hair isn’t fucking wet.

“Liar,” I state. Instead of beating her, I decide to exit the bathroom. I can’t have her know my next move.

When I become predictable is when I die, and I’ll never fucking die.

3

Harmony

Water rushes through my curly hair. My olive skin burns from the heat of the water. I love it. Washing away all of the crimes I have helped him commit.

My eyes sting from crying. I knew I shouldn’t have lied. That could get me killed.

What I don’t understand is why he acted so calm and collected after I lied to him… He just walked away like it was no big deal. And trust me, lying is a massive deal to Damien.

I step out of the shower and dry myself off.

The mirror is fogged up from the steam. I gently wipe the mirror with the corner of my towel, revealing my face.

My face shows how resilient I can be. No one knows what it’s like to live the life that I have. Once I had everything, then… it was gone.

I examine my face, which is bruised from getting slammed into the dresser. Fuck. I get dressed and put on some light make-up, covering the evidence of my abuser.

I walk out of the bathroom and down the hall to the library. One thing Damien does do is let me buy however many books my heart desires. And for that, I am grateful.

Iglide my fingers over the spines of the books and stop on one that has always hit hard. “There Are No Saints” by Sophie Lark. I have read this book countless times. Followed by the second one in the duet. Both just speak to me in their own messed-up ways.

I love to imagine, I am the girl in the book, eventually having my happily-ever-after. But let’s be real. I will never have that. Not as long as Damien lives.

I sit down on the oversized chair and begin reading.

Nothing can stop me from reading.

* * *

Doors slam, and I am jolted from my sleep. Fuck.

I rush to stand, placing my book back on the shelf. Damien hates it when I sleep during the day. He says I’m wasting time. I’ve never understood his obsession with time.

He always has to be doing something. If he isn’t doing something, then he is out of control. Damien is someone who always has to be in control.

I peer out into the hallway and spot Damien and Reese having a heated conversation.

I stay inside the room, listening closely to their conversation.

“You’re sure they were there?” Damien asks Reese.

“Yeah. Fucking Lucien and Dante.”

Damien throws his fist into the wall.

“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Want me to take them out?”