Chapter 41
Forty-One
LULU
Ouch.
I moan as I turn over in bed and feel like my abdomen is being squeezed from the inside out.
Opening my eyes, I see that Rome is no longer in bed with me, and by the feel of the cool sheets, I’d say he’s been gone for a little while.
I could use a hug.
Because I’m pretty sure I’m starting my period, and my periods suck.
I climb out of bed to go to the bathroom but stop short and stare in horror at the blood on the sheets. It looks like something out of a horror movie.
“Shit.”
No.
No.
Fuck. I can’t let Rome see that. He’ll … he won’t like that at all.
“Eloise, what the fuck!”
Oh God.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I was just about the change the shee—”
Whack.
I double over in agony. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.
“Clean this fucking mess up, you stupid, fat bitch.”
Slap.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, grasping my cheek, which is no doubt as red as my soiled sheets.
I flinch, remembering my father’s brutality.
It’s over now, Lulu. You’re safe now.
Taking a deep breath, I pad into the bathroom and see that I have blood on my legs and I’m leaving drops on the floor. I pick up the pace and use the toilet, rush to pull on panties and sweats, along with an oversized T-shirt, but I don’t have any pads or tampons.
Maybe in my purse?
I scramble downstairs for my handbag and open it, rummaging around, but come up empty-handed.
My last period ended the day before I left my father’s house, and it didn’t occur to me to get supplies.
“Rome?” I call out, in case he’s in his office or somewhere else in the penthouse, but it’s still.
He’s not here.
And I absolutely refuse to ask one of his foot soldiers to go to the pharmacy for me. No. Definitely not.
I can get it myself, but I’d better hurry because I’ll bleed through my clothes quickly.
I know from experience.
I’m the girl with embarrassing period stories from high school.
Lucky me.
With my bag slung across my body, I slip my feet into the flip-flops I have by the front door, unlock it, and step out.
“Miss?” the guard asks.
“Hey. I’ll be right back. There’s no problem.”
He watches me for a second, then nods. I hurry to the elevator.
I say the same thing to a couple more guards. The pharmacy is just down the block. I’ll be back before anyone knows that I’m gone. Hopefully, the pharmacy has a restroom I can use while I’m there. Otherwise, I might alarm the guards when I return with blood on the crotch of my sweats.
I shiver at the thought and push outside into the sunshine. I take a deep breath of fresh air, and it occurs to me that I haven’t been out of Rome’s building since he brought me here from that shitty motel.
To be fair, the building I live in is massive, with everything I could need or want right there. Restaurants, coffee, the spa, the gym, my job, and my home are all packaged up nice and tidy in that building, and I kind of love it.
But I need fresh air and sunshine. This feels good, and if it didn’t feel like my uterus was trying to plan a coup to escape my body, I’d be damn happy.
I make my way down the block, my face turned up toward the sun.
It’s quiet on the streets of Las Vegas at this time of day.
It’s just after noon, and I assume most of the tourists are sleeping off last night’s shenanigans in their hotel rooms. A few people walk past, but very few.
And I have to admit, it’s nice. Much like the week I’ve had.
Rita, the most understanding boss in the world, was so understanding when I went back in for my next shift.
I felt like I’d let her down, leaving her high and dry in the middle of a shift to take care of Scarlett, but thankfully, she was good about it.
Her concern for Scarlett was genuine and empathetic, and it made me like her even more.
Max, understanding Rome and I are a couple has backed off with his flirting—probably a wise choice given who my man is. Work is … fun. Challenging, and for the most part, an awesome experience.
Each day, I’ve made sure that Rome’s men are fed, much to his chagrin. But I know from the way he kisses me—hard—as he thanks me that he’s quietly happy with how I care about his men. After feeding them, I’ve spent time with Scarlett.
Her dressings are changed regularly, but she’s still in so much pain.
I don’t envy that. I now know what her comfort foods are and which movies are her faves.
Rita even joined us one afternoon on her rare day off to watch Sweet Home Alabama.
She’s like a protective older sister, which is something I’ve never had.
It’s almost like I’ve found a brand-new family. Not to mention, a gorgeous, sexy man, who I’m falling in love with.
I’ve never been happier. I’ve never felt safer.
I walk into the pharmacy and make a beeline for the feminine products with a basket. I choose a couple of boxes of what I need, then walk down the pain reliever aisle, grab my favorite bottle, and stop by the seasonal candy.
Armed with all my supplies, including chocolate bars and nacho-flavored corn chips, I approach the checkout.
Once I’ve paid for everything, I cringe at the exhausted-looking woman who just took my money.
“Can I use your restroom?” I ask her and point at the tampons. “It’s an emergency.”
“I’m not supposed to let you,” she says, “but I get it. Been there. Sure, it’s through that back door and immediately to the right.”
“Thank you.” My shoulders sag in relief as I gather my bag and hurry to the back of the store.
I’m going to go back to the penthouse, stay in bed all day, and read a book.