Silent Sins: A Lotus House Novel: Book Five

by Audrey Carlan

  “No, on that I would say you are right,” she responds, making it clear she does in fact know my Nick.

  “Dr. Hart, I’m sensing there’s something you’re not saying.”

  She nods. “Usually that’s my line.” Dr. Hart’s shoulders slump, and she rubs at her belly as if it’s a nervous gesture. Definitely not the response I was expecting with my great news.

  “Let me ask you this. Is this Nick the same Nick that teaches at Lotus House in Berkeley? Nick Salerno?”

  “Yes! You do know him.” I smile widely, but she doesn’t return the gesture, which makes me instantly uncomfortable.

  Dr. Hart sighs, and it sounds heavy and fraught with unease. “I know him very well, I’m afraid.”

  “Afraid? Are you trying to tell me he’s not a good man, that I shouldn’t date him?” Then it slams into me like a baseball ball bat to the back of the head. “Oh, my God! Have you dated him?” I cover my mouth with my own hand as the image of Dr. Hart and Nick kissing enters my mind. A sourness floods my gut and swirls, dangerously mixing up the cappuccino I had before attending my session.

  My doctor shakes her head. “No, I haven’t dated him. He’s a friend, a brother type. I spend a lot of time with many of the same people.”

  “Okay. Thank goodness. So you know he’s a good guy, and you’re not warning me off him?”

  She lifts her hands and waves them in front her. “No, no, not at all. Nick Salerno is an amazing man, and if you’ve caught his eye, and he wants to be with you, that says something about you. It just also means I have intimate knowledge of the man you’re very likely going to want to talk about more often in therapy.”

  “Which means what?” I twist my fingers together, sensing the unease filling the air in the room.

  Dr. Hart lets out a long breath. “Honor, what it means is that it may not be ethical for me to continue being your doctor.” Her eyes are somber and filled to the brim with what I can only guess is sadness.

  No. Oh no. I shake my head. Shivers of fear and dread ripple up my spine and out my arms. I clench my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms fiercely with no concern whatsoever if I wound them.

  “No. I’m finally doing good with someone. With you. I need you, Dr. Hart. You can’t turn me away.” Anxiety and alarm prickle at my skin as if hundreds of ants were crawling all over my body. I start to scratch at the length of my forearm, digging into the skin to ease the tension. It doesn’t work.

  Monet gets up, her burgeoning belly seeming to lead the way before she sits and grabs my hands so I can’t move them along my tingling nerves.

  “Honor, I don’t want to lose you as a client. I’m just worried about being able to give you a blind perspective on your relationship and the inner workings of it when I know both parties. Do you understand my position? What I’m saying?”

  I lick my lips and grit my teeth.

  She doesn’t want to see you anymore.

  She’s probably been looking for a reason to get rid of you.

  Poor, stupid Honor.

  “Let’s talk about this. Figure out a plan. I can recommend an associate if that’s what we need to do. But there are options we can discuss first…”

  Her words are a jumble in my mind. Just another person who wants to get away from me.

  Honor the cutter.

  The loser.

  The rich little brat whose brother killed himself and left her behind, alone.

  “Honor, what’s going on in your mind? What are you thinking right now?” Her words seem genuine, but how do I know that for fact anymore? She wants to get rid of me. Pawn me off on someone else.

  “What do you care?” Tears prick the back of my eyes as the anger and distrust seep into my mind.

  Her head jerks back, and a hand goes over her heart. “I care very much. We’ve been in a professional relationship for months now. Of course I care about your well-being. But I need to do what’s best for you as well. And that may be finding you another therapist who doesn’t know you or Nicholas personally.”

  I huff. My well-being. All she cares about his getting rid of me.

  She’s lying. Just like everyone else. My mother, my brother, Sean. For all I know, Nick is lying to me too.

  I stand up, ripping my hands away from hers and pushing them through my hair, tugging at the roots. The prick of pain at the top of my scalp flares with a brilliant flicker of ease. Just one blessed speck of freedom in that split second of pain firing through my system.

  “Fine. Whatever you want, Dr. Hart. I’ll save you the trouble of letting me go as a client and just leave now. You no longer need to worry about poor Honor Carmichael.”

  I rush out of her office, feet moving faster than my mind can keep up. Her voice is calling for me to stop, to stay, as I step onto the elevator.

  “Honor, please…” She makes it to the metal doors where I stand. She’s holding her pregnant belly and breathing heavily. I almost feel sorry for her, but I don’t allow the part of me that cares to the surface. Only the dark, numb side of me is present.

  She takes a deep breath. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to help you the best way I know how.”

  “By pushing me away.” I shake my head. “You’re just like everyone else.”

  This time she shakes her head and reaches for me, but the doors on the elevator start to close. I hold out my hand. “It’s fine, Dr. Hart. I’m nobody. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’m sorry I took up so much of your time. Have a nice life.” I finish as the doors close, leaving me in the steel metal box alone.

  Alone is where I’m supposed to be. I’m not good enough for anyone. Especially Nick. I’m not sure what I was thinking. Living a lie these past several weeks.

  He asked me to go to his mother’s. I’m not good enough to meet anyone’s mother, let alone Nick’s and all his sisters. Even Grace. She’s everything I’m not. Love and light and pure beauty. She’s untainted by the world and doesn’t need a toxic friend bringing her down.

  Absolutely not. There’s no way I can show my hideous face in front of people who are worthy of so much more.

  The elevator whooshes me down to the lobby level. Tears streak my face as I dash out of the building and hail a cab.

  Just as I get into the cab, my heart cold and dark, my cell phone rings. I don’t even have the state of mind to view the display before hitting the “answer” key.

  “Honor Carmichael, you ungrateful little heathen. You better answer your mother when she speaks to you.” Her words are acid, pouring over my soul, making gaping holes I’ll never be able to fill.

  “I’m here.” Physically.

  “The staff have informed me that you apparently moved out without giving word.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re living in a hotel…” she starts.

  “It’s my hotel, Mother.” I answer on autopilot because it’s true. My grandparents left me several, but when Hannon passed, I got all of his money and inheritance too. The hotel I’m in is one I own outright.

  “How dare you disgrace our family name. Living in a hotel like a gypsy.” She tsks, and I can imagine her waving her finger at me like she’s done more times than I can count over the years when I’ve disappointed her.

  “Pack your things, and come back home. If anyone has found out about your little stunt, I’ll tell them you were enjoying the spa services and checking in on your property.”

  “I’m not coming home.” Where the gumption to make that statement came, I’ll never know. Maybe some latent juju from Nick popping to the surface. My stomach twists and rolls with every breath I take.

  She skips over my comment and continues her rant. “And how dare you miss a date I scheduled for you. Do you have any idea what position you put me and your father in? This is the son of one of his top business partners. It’s a coup that he’s even willing to consider merging our families with a little piece of nothing like you. Thank God you have a pretty face, because the good Lor
d knows what you’re doing to the rest of your hideous body. Marking yourself like a common criminal.”

  “Mother, stop…”

  “You are so beneath your genetics it’s despicable. Every day I wonder why it wasn’t you instead of your brother. At least he could have been cured of his disease.”

  Rage unlike anything I’ve ever experienced pours through my system like red-hot lava.

  “He was gay! Hannon was gay, not sick! He didn’t have a disease. You and Father threatened the only good thing he had in his life. So he took that option away. It’s all your fault he’s dead!” I screech into the phone.

  The cab driver ignores me completely. I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore.

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. Hannon was weak. I’m training you to be strong. Don’t you see that?” Her voice is ugly and laced with hatred. “One day you will thank me for setting you straight. Now I expect you to be back in your room and dressed to entertain. We’re having a ladies luncheon tomorrow with all of your friends.”

  “They are not my friends.” Each word she spits out makes the holes inside of me larger, to the point where I don’t know where I am or who I am anymore. “I’m not coming home.” It’s the last thing I say before I power off my phone.

  I have one destination in mind. One place to go, to take myself where the hurt subsides and the ugly bleeds out. I need it badly.

  The remaining minutes fly by in a haze of self-doubt and loathing as we roll up to my hotel. I pay the cab and rush to the private penthouse elevator. I don’t look up from the floor because I don’t want anyone to stop me from where I need to be. What I need to do.

  The guilt and the hate war inside me.

  Dr. Hart doesn’t want to treat me anymore. She doesn’t care about me.

  My mother hates me.

  I hate me.

  Go to Nick’s. He’ll be there for you. Hannon’s voice slips into my subconscious, but I press against my temples. Not now.

  I need this.

  My keycard opens the door, and I rush into the bedroom and then the en suite bathroom, where I pull out the drawer. Everything inside falls to the floor in a clatter of makeup products, brushes, combs, and the small zip-up kit I’ve hidden in the very back. The one I haven’t used since I met Nick.

  I open the two-inch by four-inch case that used to hold nail clippers and pull out a shiny, new double-sided razor. I push up the sleeves on my forearms, point the tip of the blade to my skin and press in. A bright crimson drop of blood appears and with it…my salvation.

  Digging in, I swipe down in a three-inch line. Blood pools and drips down my arm, but it’s not enough. The pain is never enough. My tears are scalding hot as they run down my cheeks. More. I need more. I stick a new bare expanse of skin, lower than I’ve gone before. The henna is nowhere near this this area. I don’t care. I flick my wrist fast this time. Opening a larger wound, digging deeper. Farther than I’ve gone before.

  Pain, nothing but blessed pain fills the empty void surrounding my heart and mind.

  I blink around the tears and let the instant bliss kick in. It’s heady, reminding me of when Nick is kissing me. Gripping the blade tightly in my palm, I feel the double-sided razor slice my skin. I close my eyes and slump to the side along the floor.

  It’s okay now. I’m better here, I tell myself as my vision fades in and out. Red pools around my arm and wrist, making a small puddle on the tile floor. So much blood. But it doesn’t matter.

  Nothing matters.

  I’m nobody.

  Not worthy.

  Even Nick will forget about me soon enough.

  Nick, the sweet, brute of a man, is the last thing I envision when the world around me goes blessedly black.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It is important for a throat centered individual to nurture honesty and self-control. If the chakra is blocked, lies and untruths come to the surface more easily.

  HONOR

  I dip in and out of consciousness seeing nothing but white.

  White walls.

  White blankets.

  White coat.

  I blink a few times and feel my hand being lifted, held by the warmth of another. I turn my face to the side and find Sean in his white lab coat. Standing next to him is a brunette woman I’ve seen before but can’t place.

  “Bunny? Wake up, honey.” He pats my hand and kisses the top as the brunette walks to the other side of the bed.

  She opens my eyelids with thumb and forefinger and then flicks on a light, blinding me. “Dr. Tillman, her pupils are equal, round, and reactive to light.”

  “It’s okay, Dr. Alexander. I’ll take care of her stats. She’s family.”

  Family. The word makes me grimace. Our family unit died along with my brother. It’s me who’s been holding on to Sean, not letting him go be happy and free with his new partner.

  I turn my head to the other side, not wanting to look at his kind face and the memories that go with it.

  “No way, Honor,” he snaps, and I glance back to him. “No way in hell you’re avoiding me. You scared the bejesus out of me. When they brought you into emergency, honey, I lost it.” His voice cracks, and he swallows. “I couldn’t even tend to you. I watched them pump blood into you and save your life.”

  I swallow around the cotton coating my throat. Save my life. “What? What am I doing here?” I don’t remember what happened. The last thing I can recall is being hurt and angry with Dr. Hart, and ugh, my mother. She called, but it’s all a blur.

  Sean’s jaw tightens, and his lips go white and flat. “The maid at your hotel found you earlier this morning, lying unconscious in a pool of your own blood on the bathroom floor, with barely a pulse. A razor blade clutched in the palm of your hand.”

  I groan and attempt to lift my arm to my face to wipe along my eyes. The brunette holds my arm down and shakes her head. The other has an IV sticking out of it and attached to tubes going to a monitor and bags of fluids. This is a nightmare.

  “Honor, you took a razor to your arm and wrist and cut up the palm of your hand pretty severely. Not exactly the first time if what’s hidden under the henna is any indication.” His eyes soften and flash with concern. “Bunny…” He uses the nickname he and my brother always used. An old joke from the past. “You tried to take your life last night?” His voice cracks, wracked with unspoken emotion.

  Again, I turn my head and try to remove my hand from his. He doesn’t let go. Thoughts of what I must have looked like when they found me, what he must have seen when I arrived by ambulance… Shame coats every pore, and I close my eyes. Hot tears leak down my cheeks as his words delve into my psyche.

  Did I mean to go that far?

  When I lost Hannon, I wanted to. Thought about it so many times, but I was always a coward. I could never take it that far. Something always stopped me.

  Sean curls a hand at the back of my neck and turns my face to look into his eyes. “I didn’t know how deep your grief went. I’m sorry, Honor. I should have been there for you. Watched out for you. Hannon would have…”

  “Hannon’s dead,” I say flatly. “He’s gone, and he’s never coming back.” The words on my tongue sting like acid, each one hurting more than the next, but it’s the honest truth. I need to truly accept that fact and stop living my life based on the loss of him.

  “Honor…”

  Tears pour from my eyes. “Just go. Leave me alone. That’s all I’m ever going to be is alone.” The dread in my voice is undeniable.

  “The fuck you are!” A deep growl I recognize instantly flares against my senses like a wall of flames.

  My eyes immediately go to the open hospital door.

  “You better get your hands off my woman, Doc, or you and me are going to have some serious problems.” Nick’s tone is rife with danger and fierce possessiveness. No one’s ever claimed me the way he did in that moment.

  Sean removes his hand from around my neck and my upper thigh.
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br />   Oh, this is bad. So, so, bad.

  “Excuse me. Who the hell do you think you are? This is my sister,” Sean says loudly, and for a second it makes my heart swell with love for him, remembering a time when hearing him say that would have been old hat. Not so much anymore. Hannon’s gone, and Sean is moving on with his life. I’m not his responsibility. I’m not anybody’s responsibility.

  “You’re her brother?” Nick looks at Sean’s much darker features, the exact opposite of me, confusion rife within his features.

  “Her brother’s dead,” Sean states, devoid of emotion, and that sends an arrow straight through my heart because I know how very true it is.

  “What the fuck?” Nick shakes his head. “Get out of my way.” He pushes past Sean and comes to my side. He gets low, his eyes assessing me from head to toe and zeroing in on my bandaged arm, wrist, and palm. His jaw gets tight as his dark gaze flashes with anger. “Who hurt you?” Both of his hands go into fists. “Give me a name. A single name and I’ll take care of him.”

  Tears fall down my cheeks again. I’m not worthy of this man. “Go home, Nick. You don’t know what you’ve stepped into.”

  It’s as if I verbally punched him in the nose with how he jerks his head back. Slowly he inhales, nostrils flaring as he clenches his teeth before leaning his forehead against mine. His breath is minty fresh when it floats over my skin. “Dove…my woman’s hurt. I’m here. Right here until you’re better. That’s how this is going to go down.”

  “Your woman? Nick!” The brunette who had tended to me smiles. I think Sean called her Dr. Alexander. She enters the room this time with a new set of bandages. Mine are soaked through.

  “Amber? You taking care of my woman?” He doesn’t miss a beat and apparently knows my female physician.