Page 20 of Sinful Mates

Chapter Eight

When we finish eating, I dump the plates in the sink and rinse them off. I grab my clothes and something out of my bedroom and return to the bathroom. The dog watches me as I come and go. His head tilts to the side, but he doesn't bother following me. "Stay," I order before wandering into the bathroom.

Jumping in the shower, I am in there all of five minutes when I hear a low whining coming from outside the bathroom door. Reaching out the shower door, I open the bathroom door before turning back to rinse the shampoo that is now burning my eyes. Opening my stinging eyes, I see the dog is watching me through the shower screen.

“You know it is rude to stare,” I tell it. It cocks its big head to the side, not fazed by my comment. Feeling its eyes on me, I rush to get out. I don’t know why but sometimes his gaze makes me feel a little uneasy. It’s almost human-like. Wrapping the towel around me, I get out and dig through the drawers, finding an old shirt and a pair of panties. Slipping them on, I walk back out and find the bottle of tequila I was drinking the night before.

I don't have a problem, I need it to help me sleep lately, that's all. The nightmares are terrible, reliving the night my mother passed over and over again. Alcohol helps make sleep easier. I reach for the bottle to pour some in a glass and pause. I only have a quarter left, why not just drink straight from the bottle? One less dish to worry about.

I tip the bottle to my lips, as the stray walks over, his fur brushing against my side. He sits on my feet staring up at me. I take a swig from the bottle, coughing from the intense burn it leaves in my throat. The cough will go away after another mouthful. A few more and it will be like drinking water. Come to think of it, I need to find another way to sleep. If I keep doing this, I may just become an alcoholic like my mother. The dog whines when I take another big mouthful.

I enjoy the sting in my throat for a moment before pulling the bottle away and addressing him. “What? Don’t look at me with those judging eyes. You really do remind me of Tobias when you glare at me like that. You don't know my life; you aren't allowed to judge me.” Great, only a couple of swallows in and I’m arguing with the dog like he understands me.

The dog pulls the bottom of my shirt with his mouth, tugging me out of the kitchen. Grabbing the bottle and wrapping my arms around it, I follow over and grab a blanket out of the linen cupboard. I open the doors leading outside in case the dog needs to pee during the night. Curling up on the couch, the dog jumps up beside me.

I don't even remember what I choose to watch on TV, and it doesn't matter. I just need my brain to die. I take another deep swig and smile. My eyelids are heavy. Sleep is blissfully close.

I stay on the couch, cuddling with my furry hot water bottle. His head rests on my hip, and eventually I fall into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I wake, and the dog is gone. I look in every room but can’t find him. He must have left outside. I hope he'll show up while I’m getting ready for work, but I don't see any sign of him. My head pounds, and my eyesight is blurry. A migraine builds. The pressure against my cheeks makes me wince. If I don't take something soon, I'll regret it later. I look for some Tylenol when Tobias strolls in, followed by Theo. What is this? I don't even get a knock anymore? Sure, come on in, make my morning even better.

“Good morning, Imogen. I hope you’re decent,” Theo’s voice rings out in a sing-song. I’m glad I made sure to get dressed before searching for medicines. I'll have to put my clothes out the night before to make sure they never catch me unprepared.

Digging through my oversized purse, I try to find a bottle of Tylenol, or anything else at this point, to get rid of this bloody headache. After a few minutes, Tobias must get tired waiting because he bursts through my bedroom door. I yelp and resist the urge to throw my bag at his head.

“How much longer?” he asks, tone cold. Another morning, another pissed off Tobias. Maybe he just isn't a morning person?

“Just a sec, I need to find some medicine. I stayed up too late reading." I resume my search.

Tobias walks past me to the dresser and pulls a bottle of pills from the top drawer. "If you weren't so bloody hungover you'd know where you put your damn things," he snarls. I wince. How did he find out about my hangover? I thought I was covering it up well.

“Come on, Imogen, next time hide the bottle. You left it on your couch, leaking all over it, mind you. Do you know how expensive that thing is?" He shakes his head and turns away from me, slamming the door behind him.

I scramble to get ready in record time, throwing my hair in a bun. Once ready for work, I join them, and Theo gives me a weak smile before handing me my apartment keys and a bottle of water. Great, he probably heard our conversation too. I take the bottle and down the pills that Tobias found for me.

Walking out, the valet tosses Tobias the keys. I pause at his car. I don't want another ride like yesterday, especially with Tobias in this kind of mood yet again. His attitude is bad enough but I don't want to lose my precious pills if I get sick from his driving and being flung around in the car like some helpless pinball.

When I don’t get in, Tobias stares at me over the roof of the car. “Get in the car.”

I look to Theo for help, but he’s already in the backseat. “I think I'll drive myself today.”

“It wasn’t a choice, Imogen, get in the car,” he repeats, this time daring me to tell him no.

I stare into his dark eyes. I don't feel like bowing to him. "No," I respond calmly. "I'm good." I turn away, walking to the garage.

“Don’t make me come get you, Imogen. You won’t like the consequences if I do.” I stop frozen in my tracks. Consequences? What, is he going to smack my ass like a child? Scold me, put me in the naughty corner? “Don’t make me repeat myself.” His words are harsh. I can hear the anger behind them.

Turning back around, I gulp and his eyes blaze. I take a step toward the car. He doesn’t drop his intense gaze. I open the door and slip in. Something about him today makes it impossible to say no and mean it.

“Good girl,” he praises before getting in himself.

I freeze and glance over at him. I should be pissed. I should want to throw something at his head, but instead I find myself doing as I’m told.

I buckle my seat belt and Tobias starts the car. I gripped the oh-shit bar white knuckled the entire way. Theo laughs a few times whenever I clench my eyes when Tobias screams around a corner. My stomach plummets to somewhere deep inside me as I wait for us to hit something.

Only we never do. When the car stops, I open the door and jump straight out. My stomach rumbles, threatening to make me lose my water and pills. I stand with my hands on my knees, bent over, taking deep breaths, trying to stop myself from puking in the parking lot.

Tobias gets out of the car and stands behind me, inspecting me as I struggle to breathe. I hear the crack before I feel the sting on my ass. He slaps me with the palm of his hand. "Don't drink and you won't get sick," he scolds before walking away and into the building.