How to Discipline Your Vampire(84)

            And with a knock on the door, aid was delivered in the form of soda and a snack. I fed her the crackers and she took small sips of her drink. Soon, Cerise was curled up in a semi-senseless heap in my lap.

            “How do you feel now?” I asked, distraught that she still seemed off.

            She picked up her head, and began to attempt to explain herself. “Stomach’s better, but . . . ,” she trailed off. I placed my hand on her forehead again, and wondered out loud if I should get her to a doctor.

            And then she began to cry.

            My eyes went wide with panic, and then I realized it was my chance to get her to open up.

            Go with the flow.

            I put my arms around her, and coaxed her head to my shoulder. She found a spot in the crook of my neck, and sobbed violently. I tied her hair back with the little elastic she always kept on her right wrist.

            “What can I do for you?” I asked. “Do you want to talk, or just go to sleep? A massage?”

            She spent another minute nestled in my embrace before she spoke. And when she did, her words were slurred and barely coherent.

            “Just please be real,” she cried, and looked up at my face. She put her tiny hands to my temples, as if to examine me.

            I looked deeply into her green eyes, and said, “I’m real, and I’m here for you.” I didn’t know what it was she wanted—how could I prove I was real? Was this about being a vampire?

            “I’ve had enough fake to last a lifetime,” she cried, returning to her sobbing position. I rubbed her back in small circles, and reassured her that I was always honest with her.

            “That’s not what I mean,” she said, wiping her nose with her wrist. She covered her face with her hands, and attempted to regain composure. However, like most drunken girls, she couldn’t quite gain back her coherence. “I’ve been lied to, William, and I’ve been used,” she sobbed.

            I sighed loudly, and pulled her closer. “How could anyone ever use you? You’re so strong, and smart,” I confessed.

            She made a half-assed effort at pushing me away. “Don’t you dare sweet-talk me. That’s what he did, and look what happened,” she said, heavy tongue getting in the way of most of her syllables.

            “Who did, and what happened?” I asked. I shocked myself with the question. It seemed out of character for me to be gathering information rather than comforting her, but I had a feeling that perhaps this was something she didn’t tell people about. Something bottled up. I prayed that this was the secret that had been eating her up, and if she could tell it to me, then she would be rid of it and we could move on.

            She laughed bitterly. “I wasn’t always so harsh, you know,” she said, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand. “Actually, I was a pretty sweet girl until I was ruined.” She wiped her eyes and laughed bitterly. “At least, that’s how my dad explained it. Ruined.”

            I caressed her face with the back of my hand. “Nothing about you is ruined,” I said, suddenly hating her father and whatever role he had played in this. I wondered about Cerise’s mother; was she chased away by her father’s cruelty? Why hadn’t they reconnected? Cerise could use a mother’s love.

            She threw up her arms. “You know what?” she asked. “I don’t even think I can get away with saying he was my boyfriend. It was all a charade.” She shook her head and her mouth puckered miserably. “He didn’t want anything other than revenge. And he got it. And I paid the fucking price—my heart, my dignity, my relationship with the only parent I have, and my virginity.”

            Oh no.