the slightest bit interested in leaving the couch. So far, I’d only gotten up twice, once to use the bathroom and another to get the pizza I’d ordered. The box sat on the coffee table with only one bite missing from a slice.
The dog released the sheet, came up to my shoulder, and licked my face. I pushed him away gently, feeling mildly better at his affection. Dejected, the dog dropped to his haunches, whimpering as he stared at me, condemning me.
I had failed as a Dom. Just the thought of it brought up bile in my throat, and I had to swallow it down. I had no desire to get up from my sanctuary of the couch in the living room to throw up in the bathroom. Again.
At least that was better than the night Heath had brought me home. The first time had taken me by surprise. I’d even been prepared for it happening again, but not to the extent that I’d blacked out while doing a scene with a sub.
Given the length of time it had taken me to come around and to be fully functional after, it had been bad. I shuddered at the memory of the disaster three nights ago. Shuddered at how much worse everything could’ve been. Had Heath and the others not been there, the sub would have been on his own until I revived. I’d never forgive myself for that.
Heath had stayed the night with me, taking care of me until morning. He would’ve stayed, but I’d faked feeling better. He already blamed himself the first time it had happened. He would probably blame himself for putting me back on a scene without properly evaluating my mental health.
Everyone thought we’d met through the club, but we’d first associated with each other when I consulted him. No one, including Oscar, knew how much James’s reappearance in our lives had triggered feelings of inadequacy and anger inside me. Heath had helped me to go through the steps of accepting a parent who had rejected me for most of my life and wanted forgiveness.
“August, thank god.”
I groaned. That was the last voice I wanted to hear at a time like this. I scrambled up from the reclining position I’d been in for the past two days, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of why Dom drop was suddenly a problem for me, especially the extent to which it affected me.
“What are you doing here, Charles?”
I couldn’t keep the waspishness out of my tone, and it was too much for him not to have noticed the change in my attitude. He halted abruptly in front of me.
“You need to call your father.” His voice was firm, but he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
I leaned back against the arm of the sofa and returned to studying the ceiling to avoid having to look at him. From the way he was dressed, he had been out. Had he gone out with his wife or someone else?
Shit, with the way I feel, thoughts like these aren’t helping.
“I’ll call him in the morning.”
“No, August, you need to call him now.” He took the seat across from me and leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. “This is unlike you.”
I laughed, the sound chilling and empty. “What do you know about me, Charles?”
“That you’re responsible and you wouldn’t want your family to be worried about you.”
His words only doubled down on my guilt. I shouldn’t have unplugged the phones, shouldn’t have turned off mine either, but I’d at least texted Oscar that I was fine and not to worry if he didn’t hear from me. I should’ve known better than to think that text would have appeased him. If anything, he would’ve most likely been more concerned.
“Oscar called you?”
“No, Declan did. And they’re planning to cut their honeymoon short if they don’t hear from you.”
I groaned and pulled the sheet from my legs. “They don’t have to do that. Tell them I’m fine.”
“Come on, August. You know your father better than me. He won’t be satisfied until he’s checked you out with his own two eyes.”
My lips twitched with the first hint of a smile I’d had over the past few days. “All right, I’ll call him. Then everyone can just leave me be.”
“No way.”
“No way, what?”
“You can’t call him like that.” Charles made a face at me like I stank. I probably did. I couldn’t remember my last shower.
“It’ll just be a quick call.”
“You look like