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I'm safe. He's gone.
Once my breaths even out, I pry myself from the plush, white bed. Stripping my clothes off as I tiptoe across the white, tile floor, I creep into the sterile bathroom.
White.
Everything is white, except my reflection. My dark, tan skin and black hair mock me from the mirror, reminding me that I don't belong here. I don't belong in Damien's pristine world, not with my dark past.
This is your home, too.
His words ring through my head.
Home.
Homes aren't happy. Homes aren't safe. This place, the top floor of the tallest skyscraper on Oahu, is not home. It's a fortress, one that hides me from him, though the memories never fade.
Dirty. Whore.
The words taunt me, forever reminding me that I don't belong.
I sigh and turn away from the mirror with the shake of my head. Pulling open a drawer on the vanity, I grab a prescription bottle. Dumping a few Xanax into my hand, I swallow them dry.
After pressing enough buttons on the panel on the wall to start a spaceship, I climb into the shower, letting the steamy spray wash away every last remnant of my nightmare.Pulling a bar of soap off the ledge, I scrub until my skin turns red. When the pills have kicked in and all that remains is thick, white smoke pulling me toward its numbness, I dry off and head into my changing room.
After pulling on a billowy, white skirt and tank top, then returning to my room, I glance at the clock. It's almost three-thirty in the morning. I only managed a few hours of sleep tonight. It's more than I usually get. I press a few buttons on the tablet resting on my white nightstand and turn toward the wall as it transforms into a floor-to-ceiling window. The dark scene it reveals invades my room, pulling me forward until I stand right in front of the thick glass.
Stars dot the cloudy, black sky. Inky waves crash into the nearly deserted coast. No one’s sunbathing at Waikiki Beach. No surfers riding the crystal waves. Dark, just like me. I shake my head, willing the thoughts to leave. Why won't they ever leave?
Huffing, I watch the frothy waves crash into the sand in a never ending pattern.Closing my eyes, I imagine the sound they make. The undulating rhythm, a quiet splash, splash, splash, solidifies in my head until I swear I can hear it.
Thud. Thud.
The soft melody continues as I open my eyes and peer out the window.I stand up straighter. It grows louder.
Thud. Thwack, thwack, thud.
The sound continues, coming from somewhere inside the penthouse.Holding my breath, I open my door and peer down the deserted, white hallway.
The door at the end stands open. A pale light spills out into the otherwise dark hall. Damien's room.
I swallow a dry lump in my throat.
This is your home, too.
I've been inside his room hundreds of times. But never in the middle of the night. Never uninvited. Still, the sound persists, consuming my curiosity.
Shaking my head, I make my way down the hall, following the soft light.I stall outside his room, my fingers resting on the door. He'll complain tomorrow. Force one of the staff to scour all of the walls, erasing the print. Erase everything that's not pristine.
My shoulders sag as I glance down at my toes. Cracked, pink polish coats the nails. I should have stayed in my room. But, I’ve already gone this far. Pulling my shoulders back, I push open his door. But it’s empty. The only light in the master suite cascades out of the closet.
Thud. Thwack.
I follow the ominous noise, growing louder with each step as I enter his walk-in closet. My dark brow furrows as I glance around the room. White shelves and curtain rods full of neatly placed black clothes greet me.Dress shirts and slacks arranged by style, not a wrinkle in sight. All black.
Dark like me, reminding me that we're really not that far apart. As I scan all of his clothes, I notice one entire shelf pulled ajar, revealing a secret door.
Thud. Thud.
My heart races.
