Chapter 5
Five
Dani
The morning sun creeps into my bedroom, lighting up my eyelids as I fight to stay asleep just a little bit longer. Turning over in bed, I feel Amzee’s claws tangled in my hair and I gasp from the pain as my hair gets pulled from the roots.
“Amzee Marie. Get your stinkin’ paws out of my hair!”
Meow.
Rolling my eyes, I reach up and untangle my hair from her claws, tapping her butt once I do to get her off my pillow.
Laying my head back down, I stare up at the ceiling, contemplating what I should do with my day.
Normally my weekends are my time to catch up on much needed sleep and run to the store for groceries, but now that my fridge and cupboards are full, I have some free time.
Pulling myself from the warmth of my bed, I move to the bathroom to get ready.
My lush black hair is usually the longest part of my routine; it doesn’t look like it, but my hair is thick so straightening it takes forever.
Once I’m finally satisfied with it, I add a light dusting of makeup, placing mascara on my lashes and white eyeliner on my bottom lash line.
My eyes used to be one of my strongest attributes when I was modeling.
I would get compliments left and right over them.
They’re a soft sea-foam green with a darker green around the edges and an almost golden ring in the middle surrounding my iris.
I would be lying if I said they weren’t my favorite feature.
My body is covered with piercings in my nose, septum, eyebrow, lip, and belly button.
After being rescued, I sort of went all out getting piercings and tattoos.
I think part of me was trying to erase any hint of the woman I used to be—the model with perfect, unflawed skin.
I felt like modeling got me into the mess I ended up in, and I was set in my desire to wipe that version of myself off the planet.
Friends from my past life probably wouldn’t even recognize me now, and I think that’s what I was going for all along.
After cleaning up and putting away everything in the bathroom, I stumble as I walk into my bedroom when my phone gives out a loud blare, causing my heart to nearly burst from my chest. Good god, what the hell was that?
I grab my phone from my nightstand, noticing it’s an alarm.
I don’t remember setting any alarms… and the title of the alarm says “Take morning meds.” Did I set an alarm last night after I took my sleep meds and then forgot about it?
Shit, maybe I do need to go back to therapy.
Why am I having a sudden lapse in my memory?
I shrug my shoulders, wanting nothing more than to move on with my day, and turn off the alarm.
Setting my phone down, I catch a glimpse of something I didn’t notice before.
A daisy… a single daisy lays on my nightstand.
Was someone in my apartment? A chill runs down my spine imagining whoever it is still in my home.
I cautiously and quietly open the nightstand drawer to take out my gun from the hidden compartment at the bottom.
I quickly turn off the safety and ensure I have one bullet loaded and ready to go.
Stepping lightly out of my room, I look all over the apartment but don’t see anyone here. Was this Derek? I know he gave me my apartment key back, but there’s no way of knowing if he copied the key before that. I curse myself for not changing the locks.
Still anxious, I walk back to my bedroom and put my gun away before picking up the daisy.
I twirl it in my fingers and smell the flower.
A sweet, fresh floral scent tickles my nose, and I put a hand over my face to hold back a sneeze.
Daisies are one of my favorite flowers. Another chill runs down my spine.
Someone was in my apartment… maybe when I slept?
Or maybe yesterday before I got home and I just never noticed the flower?
I was tired after my date and my sleep meds have a habit of making me loopy.
Part of me wants to call the police and make a report, but another part of me doesn’t want to involve the authorities.
Since getting my new identity, I try to avoid them as best I can.
An errant thought has me pausing. Kayden did admit that he’s been following me.
Could this be from him? What about the groceries?
Knowing there’s nothing I can do right this moment, I make my way back into the bathroom to take my medications.
One for my anxiety and one for my depression.
More than half the time I forget to take my meds to begin with.
It’s probably why I’m not doing as good as I could be.
I know the meds are meant to help me get back to baseline, but sometimes even taking them feels like such a huge undertaking.
I know people that have never experienced depression would never understand, but fuck if depression doesn’t make the simplest tasks feel impossible.
There’s just never any energy to do anything.
I can’t even say how many times I’ve just let the dishes pile up because the thought of doing dishes felt like such an impossible task.
Rationally, we know these tasks are simple, but our brains make it out to be so much harder than it actually is.
Throw a little anxiety into the mix, and you have one fucked up brain because the anxiety side is constantly worrying about all the things that need to be done, while the depression is like no, we have no energy to do that. It’s a vicious cycle.
My phone goes off again, signaling a text message.
Unlocking my phone, I open it to see a message from Melody.
I debate telling her about the daisy but think better of it.
Knowing Melody and the experience she had with her own stalker, she would call the cops, and that’s the last thing I want.
I have to find the right moment to tell her.
Melody
Hey girl, wanna go out tonight?
Me
Hmmm, where are you thinking?
Melody
I was thinking I could take you out to Club LAX. I know you’ve never been, but my brother-in-law owns it, and we’ll get a bunch of free drinks.
On one hand, I want to say yes, but the other side wants to just stay home, curled up in bed with a good book.
Another part of me wants to escape this apartment, no longer feeling safe in my own home.
I don’t respond immediately, contemplating the decision of staying in my cozy bed or venturing out for a good time with my best friend and temporarily forgetting my problems. Her and I normally take trips downtown or to the bookstore—I’ve never really been one for the club scene.
I don’t get to think on it much longer before I get another text from Melody.
Melody
Pleeeaaassseee, Dani? I haven’t seen you in forever.
I know I’ll probably regret this later, but fuck it.
Me
Fine, fine, fine. I’ll go out with you.
On one condition though.
Melody
Anything! You name it.
Me
LOL Anything, huh? Dangerous.
Melody
OK, for real though. What’s your condition?
Me
You have to come over and help me pick out what to wear.
Melody
Abso-fucking-lutely. I’ll be there around seven tonight.
Me
See you then!
I spend the rest of my day curled up on the couch, getting in some much needed reading time.
I’ve always been a romance girly, but ever since my trauma, I’ve found dark romance to be equally erotic and healing.
I was once ashamed of my sexuality after the numerous rapes I endured at the hands of Anthony Romani, but through therapy I learned every woman handles their trauma differently.
Some go years before they can engage in sex again.
Myself? I dove right back in, desperate to feel back in control.
My therapist, Jackie, helped me realize this was a normal response.
I’ve always been careful with the men I sleep with, but so far, I haven’t had any bad experiences, minus Derek and his controlling tendencies.
I end up taking numerous breaks from my book, unable to stop thinking about a certain pair of blue eyes.
I remember when I was rescued, the blue-eyed soldier stooped down to my spot on the cot, grabbing my chin and turning my face to look at him.
I was a goner the moment I saw his eyes, tumbling headfirst into their depths.
His team cut off my chains as he held my gaze, never once straying to take in my naked body.
Since then, I’ve done everything in my power to forget him and that fucked up time in my life, but his eyes follow me everywhere.
I didn’t need to fall for my savior, but there I was, falling head first into his ocean eyes.
I never thought I’d see him again. Why he has to show up in my life right now is beyond my wildest guess.
All I know is that those blue eyes are haunting me. They’ve taken residence in my mind and I’m powerless to fight their pull.
Do I even want to fight it, though?