Page 37 of Bound to the Daddy

The person you are trying to reach has blocked this number. If you feel as if this is in error, please have them contact a servicing station for a systems scan.

No! Wait!

The person you are trying to reach has blocked this number. If you feel as if this is in error, please have them contact a servicing station for a systems scan.

Tears blur my eyes as I toss my phone onto the bed. What am I going to do? Brody was the only thing keeping me tethered to this place. With him marrying someone else, what will Mr. Rothsbourne do? There’s no way he’ll keep me here with another Mrs. Rothsbourne flitting around the place.

What will they say? That I’m an ex who got evicted for possible drug use, so she’s using the south wing as a halfway house until she can get a real job and get the fuck out?

Tears gather in my eyes, blurring everything until it’s a mass of color and noise. My fingers make their way to my mouth again, and I don’t give a fuck that I’m about to damage themeven more. Wrapping my free hand around my waist, I rock back and forth as the last bit of rug gets yanked out from under me.

Again, my phone buzzes, and in the haze, I pick it up, thinking maybe Brody had a change of heart. But no. It’s not him at all.

Unknown Number

Hi! We have found you a mate. To ensure proper preparations for your big day, be at the Corner Haven Civic Center by 12pm sharp. Please do not be late. Your happiness depends on our ability to transform you into the bride of your dreams. Your presence is non-negotiable. If you are not here at the designated time, officers will be sent to your location to retrieve you. Enjoy your day to the fullest!

I blink down at the screen. There’s no way I’m reading that correctly. Wiping my eyes, I squint at the small lettering.

Hi! We have found you a mate. To ensure proper preparations for your big day, be at the Corner Haven Civic Center by 12pm sharp. Please do not be late. Your happiness depends on our ability to transform you into the bride of your dreams. Your presence is non-negotiable. If you are not here at the designated time, officers will be sent to your location to retrieve you. Enjoy your day to the fullest!

The message doesn’t change. Does this mean I’m marrying Brody after all? What’s the chance that we both get a text to be married tomorrow and it’s to two different people?

Now, my anxiety kicks in for a far different reason. I’m marrying Brody. I’m going to officially be a Rothsbourne. I should be happy. Honestly, I should be thrilled to death. Now, I won’t have this weight hanging over me. I can’t really owe his dad when I’m his daughter-in-law.

Rising from the bed, everything dips and sways for a moment. My head throbs and aches as I look around the space. I suppose I won’t be staying here anymore. I’ll have to move into the guest house with Brody. He certainly won’t want to live under the same roof as his father.

I reach out to smooth a small snag on the comforter, but it doesn’t lie flat. My brain buzzes as I fixate on the tiny snag, pulling on it until it unravels. In its wake, a small tunnel where the thread is missing screams out to me. Pull and tug as I might, it doesn’t fix itself.

The dull ache in my head turns to a full roar as I yank on the covers, shifting them to where they need to be. Not right. Nothing about this is right. I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong, but it feels like everything is just off somehow.

The pictures hang just a touch crooked. The pillows are far too askew for my liking. Great. Now I have to add OCD to my list of issues. Tipping my head up to look at the ceiling, I scream, hoping that will quell all these riotous emotions running through me.

But it doesn’t.

My limbs shake as I walk into the bathroom and head toward the cabinet. My suppressants sit out front where anyone can see because I don’t care who knows I’m on them. I pop one and swallow with some sink water.

But that’s not the pill I need. Only one thing can make all this go away. Only one thing will let me breathe without extra effort. My fingers tremble as I pull the bottle out from its hiding place.

I just need enough to get me through the ceremony. After I’m married, everything will be alright. I just know it. It has to be.

Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision again as I clutch my bottle of anxiety pills to my chest. The bottle feels far lighter than I remember. But then, I probably took quite a few as I got used to things in the Rothsbourne household. It’s probably why he’s insisting on a massage.

The pills are light, though, so I’m probably okay. I hold the bottle up to the light, and everything freezes. Three left. Just three. I thought I had at least five or maybe ten if I was lucky. But no. Three.

Three fucking pills to get me through my marriage. I can’t survive on just three. There has to be something else. There just has to be.

I can’t ask Mr. Rothsbourne to purr for me. Besides, he’s probably already left. This leaves me all alone with no help. Nothing.

With shaky fingers, I run my hand over the small lump in the back of the cabinet. To anyone else, it might look like a small makeup kit. But it’s anything but. Can I do this? Can I just do a line or two?

I won’t fuck up like last time. I won’t cut so deeply that I’ll end up in the hospital. I know better now.

Holding the kit in my hands, my body trembles as I lower myself to the floor. Just one cut. Just one little flash of burn. Something to focus my thoughts and keep me from spiraling.

I pull the silver box out of the velvet liner and open it up. The unused razor blades gleam up at me in the bright lights. They call me, demand I take hold and give in to the pain I know will shut off my mind.

With a deep breath, I set the kit to the side and pull down my pajama pants, revealing the pale scars on my inner thigh.There’s still plenty of room. Besides, I’m not going to do that many.

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