Silent Sins: A Lotus House Novel: Book Five Read online

  Silent Sins

  A Lotus House Novel: Book Five

  AUDREY CARLAN

  Contents

  Silent Sins

  Copyright

  Note to the Reader

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  THE END

  Excerpt From Intimate Intuition - A Lotus House Novel (Book 6)

  Also by AUDREY CARLAN

  Acknowledgments

  About Audrey Carlan

  Silent Sins

  Silent Sins

  Lotus House: Book 5

  This book is an original publication of Audrey Carlan.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 Waterhouse Press, LLC

  Cover Design by Waterhouse Press, LLC

  Cover Photos: Shutterstock

  * * *

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Dedication

  To my soul sister Nikki Chiverrell

  The day I thought of the idea of this story, I knew it would be for you.

  You are the epitome of a woman driven by the throat chakra.

  The life you live, the hardships you’ve overcome, are a testament to your strength and beauty.

  I named my character Honor because it is an honor to have you as my chosen sister.

  Though your story isn’t the same as hers, I think you’ll find a kinship to her journey.

  With sisterhood and love.

  Note to the Reader

  Everything in the Lotus House series has been gleaned from years of personal practice and the study of yoga. The yoga positions and chakra teachings were part of my official schooling with The Art of Yoga through Village Yoga Center in Northern California. Every chakra fact and position description has been personally written by me and comes from my perspective as a Registered Yoga Teacher and follows the guidelines set forth by the National Yoga Alliance and the Art of Yoga. If you want to attempt any standard yoga positions detailed in any of the Lotus House novels, please consult a Registered Yoga Teacher.

  The aerial yoga positions listed in this particular book have been from taking classes and hours of research. Do NOT attempt any of these positions without having first been taught by a credentialed aerial yoga teacher. To teach this particular type of yoga, a teacher should have a separate credential.

  I suggest everyone take a yoga class. Through my yoga schooling and teaching the gift of yoga to my students, I have learned that yoga is for everybody and every body. Be kind to yours, for you only get one in this lifetime.

  * * *

  Love and light,

  * * *

  Audrey

  Chapter One

  The throat chakra, known as the Vissudha in Sanskrit, is located in the neck. Located between the head and the heart, it is the chakra that maintains the integrity between what is thought and what is felt.

  HONOR

  White-hot searing pain followed by a euphoric rush and the instant crush of extreme relief soothes and calms the war raging within me. I don’t want the pain…I need it. For long moments, I sit quietly, enjoying the seconds of peace and serenity surrounding that first initial piercing of skin. Each rip of flesh eases the fear, the anxiety, the sheer loathing I have toward myself and the world around me. A world that he is no longer a part of.

  I dig the blade deeper, requiring more…searching for something that I can never find.

  It works for a while. Small moments. The only beauty I have to look forward to anymore. Memories of happier times cascade through my mind like a pinwheel spinning in a gust of wind.

  Running through the woods, him hot on my heels, me squealing in delight.

  I press the razor blade deeper. More pain.

  Him shunning the mean, popular girls who picked on me in school.

  Shivers ripple through every nerve ending with each new blessed slice.

  Movies. So many movies. Every Sunday, sharing a bowl of popcorn, laughing at the same parts as the images on the screen flickered by.

  My mouth waters as sourness hits my tongue. Acid curls and burns inside my gut.

  Nights long ago, cuddled up with one another as if the entire world had disappeared and there was only the two of us.

  I dip my head back against the wall, close my eyes, and allow the full-body flush of heat and adrenaline to fire its way through my system as I flick my wrist, until I feel something…anything.

  For me, pain is the only acceptable substitute for love and loss.

  Once the blood drips and pools down around my forearm, congealing into thick, maroonish globs, I glance around, blinking away the regret and tears. I’ve finished this session and huddle in the corner where the tub and wall meet. My toes are freezing, curled in, pressed against the cold tile I’m sitting on. I sigh, my stomach rolling with nausea as the self-deprecation and disgust weave into my mind.

  Hannon wouldn’t approve.

  He didn’t approve back when we were kids when he caught me doing it at sixteen. He most certainly wouldn’t now in my midtwenties. Except it doesn’t matter, because he’s not here to scold me.

  To hold me.

  To love me.

  To save me.

  A dry laugh leaves my lungs as I stand, trembling and leaning against the vanity for purchase. My newest cut throbs and aches, the two-inch-long line marred with slowly drying blood. I didn’t go too far this time. Not as far as I wanted to go.

  Coward.

  The single word wreaks havoc on my psyche, taunting and prodding the loser within. I furl my fingers around the razor blade, wondering if I could just do it. End it all. No one would miss me. Certainly not my parents or the high-society brats who call me friend when I know we’re anything but. Those gold-diggers use up everyone in their path until there’s nothing left. They are friends by status alone, not by choice.

  A sob tears through my chest as I think once again about how much Hannon would detest what I’ve done, what I’ve become in his absence. I snarl and growl at my image in the mirror.

  “You want me to stop, Han, come back and make me!” I smack the counter hard, dropping the razor blade. It falls, clinking its way into the sink, where drops of blood smear along the white ceramic surface.

  No response. Not even a flicker. There’s only my reflection in the mirror, and what a sad sight that is. Blonde hair, almost white for how light it is, long and unruly beachy waves I’ve done nothing with. My eyes are two hollow ovals, gray and lifeless. Suits my mood. Chapped, dry lips I used to think were pretty curve into two bows meeting in the middle. I used to be pretty. Now I’m just he
re. Walking through each day, wishing I could be wherever he is.

  The ache to be near Hannon hammers against my heart, like it always does, a nagging beat I can’t escape. Turning on the faucet, I wash away the blood and rinse the new cut, noticing the others near it are fading nicely. The henna art covers them well, much to my parents’ displeasure. Another reason to keep using the earthy dye to cover my sins. I’ll have to reapply to make this newest mark disappear, but that will be easy enough. Still, the new mark doesn’t take away the urge to flee, to run, to be close to him.

  With a speed I’m used to after one of my “sessions,” I fly into my bedroom, pull a hoodie from my closet, and throw it on, the icy claws of despair prodding my haste, aiding every movement. I step into my tennis shoes, the laces already tied, and am out the door. Once I reach the hallway, I tiptoe my way down the stairs that lead to the grand, main entrance of my parents’ mansion. The black and white marble floors have been shined to perfection, nary a speck of dirt to be found. Mrs. Judith Gannon-Carmichael would never stand for anything less.

  I hear loud voices, swollen with pompous righteousness, as they echo through the receiving room off the entryway. The door is open, so I do my best to slither along the opposite wall, hiding in the shadows in the hope I can get to the kitchen and off to the garage without being detected. Mother would look down upon my casual attire and be horrified in front of her friends, many of whom she and my father are currently entertaining.

  The sounds of haughty laughter and clinking glasses echo through the open door as I skate by the evening gathering without notice. Thank goodness for small favors. If my luck sticks, Sean will also be home tonight. The last couple times I escaped to his house, he wasn’t altogether welcoming. Loving, yes. Welcoming, no. There’s been a hint of frustration in his demeanor when he’s spoken to me recently and an overall weird sensation that I can’t quite pinpoint when I visit. Regardless, I need to be there right now. Nowhere else will do. Not tonight, when I’m raw and twitchy.

  Making it to the gigantic garage, so large it could double as a football field, I pass by an endless array of my father’s obsession: cars. From classic American brands to European sports cars, my father has it all. With enough money to buy Queen Elizabeth out of her position in Buckingham Palace, he can afford the best, and he proves it in every shiny, new purchase.

  I hop into my black, somewhat modest Mercedes S-Class coupe, probably the cheapest car in the entire garage and still considered luxury. For one full minute, I sit and just breathe, attempting to calm the swirling devastation that threatens to swallow me whole.

  Just a little longer and you’ll be closer to him, I remind myself until I hear his voice. Like in a dream or a memory that’s just too hard to grasp.

  Hold on, Bunny. Be still…find your peace.

  Hannon’s voice is a whisper over my senses. Those were the last words he ever said to me. My heart tightens as if being held in his strong hands.

  For you, I will, Han. I promise.

  I smash the button for door number six. The moment the heavy metal door rises high enough for my ride to fit under it, I shoot out into the bleak darkness of the night. I’ve taken this drive many times over the last two years, and each and every trip feels as if I’m driving toward heaven, only to remember once more I’m living in utter hell.

  The miles fly by, my thoughts a mixture of memories and the crawling, aching desperation within me.

  I take the steps two at a time at the front of the bright blue and white row house in downtown San Francisco. The Bay Area wind bites at my back as I ring the bell several times in quick succession. The lights are on in the living room, so I know he’s here. He just has to be. If not, I’m going to use the emergency key Hannon gave me years ago. I haven’t had to use it recently. I’ve tried to stay away, knowing each time becomes harder than the last. For both of us.

  The door opens, and a tall man I don’t recognize stands in the doorway. The warm tones of the light inside cast his face in shadow, but I can see he’s attractive, lean, and a nice dresser based on the slacks and cashmere sweater he’s wearing. On his nose is a pair of tortoise shell, square-shaped glasses.

  “Hello. Can I help you?” His voice is as genuine and lovely as his corresponding smile.

  I swallow, my throat suddenly dry as the Mohave Desert. Tears threaten at the back of my eyes. What’s going on? Who is this man? Why is he here at this late hour?

  “Who is it, love?” Sean calls out from farther in the house.

  Love.

  A word often used as a term of endearment. A term that’s being used by Sean and directed at the nice-looking, late twenty- or early thirty-something man standing in front of me, currently wearing an assessing expression.

  “A darling blonde with big doe eyes and a sad smile,” he calls back. He tips his head to the side. “You lost, sweetie? Do you need help?” the man asks as I stare mutely.

  Incapable of speech, I stand there like the lost little girl he thinks I am. I damn near feel that way until suddenly Sean puts an arm around the man’s waist and nudges him aside to see who’s at the door. The instant his eyes meet mine, his laughing smile turns into a frown. I hate it instantly. He used to look at me with laughter and joy.

  “Honor.” He says my name low and deep, as if it is a plague brought down upon his house. In front of me is not the same man who used to pull me in for long hugs and intense conversations about the world and, most importantly, sharing how much we both loved my brother.

  I shake my head and place my hand over my mouth, a fresh bout of unease and loathing streaking up my spine. “No,” I whisper.

  He inhales visibly, his chest lifting up and going back down as if he is preparing to give one of his patients bad news.

  Sean pushes past the man standing at his side, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into the house. The man behind us shuts the door, keeping out the chill. All of a sudden, I feel too hot in my jeans and hoodie—scaldingly so.

  Sean cups both of my cheeks and stares into my eyes. “Honor, it’s good to see you. But honey, it’s very late, and you didn’t call first.” A shiver ripples through me, and he continues dropping his arms to his sides. “I’m sorry if what you are seeing surprises you. I wanted to tell you first.”

  I choke out a sob, the next words leaving my mouth agonized. “When? How long?”

  Sean clenches his teeth, making his jaw look even more chiseled and fierce. “A few months. I couldn’t keep him away from the house any longer. It’s not fair to him or to me. Hannon wouldn’t want that.”

  The mere mention of Hannon sears through me. The session earlier was nothing compared to the pain whipping through me, wanting to burst free as Sean locks his arms around me.

  I can’t stop the trembling, which starts at my teeth and flows through my insides like a bucket of snakes being poured into a small body of water.

  The words leave my mouth before I can contain them. “How could you?”

  His arms drop from around me, and he grasps my biceps loosely. “He’s been gone two years, Honor. You have to move on. We both have to move on. The torch you’re holding, forcing me to hold…it’s unhealthy.”

  I clench my teeth. “Does he know?” I tip my head to the side, gesturing to the man standing near and listening in. “Does he know you told my brother you’d love him forever?” My voice is accusatory and scathing as I practically spit out each syllable.

  Sean’s features harden, and he scowls. “And our forever was cut short!” he grits through his teeth. “No one knows that better than me.” His lips curl into an expression of disgust. “And that was Hannon’s choice. Not mine. He made that all on his own. I’ve spent long enough being alone and a year in therapy getting past his betrayal. Now it’s your turn.”

  I ignore the blame game he’s playing. “You were everything to him.” I’m barely able to speak through the thick fog of emotion coating my throat.

  Sean’s pretty brown eyes close as if he’s letting
that soak in for a minute. His dark hair is tussled. A few paces beyond, the man who answered the door stands, not intruding but staying close. I’d probably like him if he wasn’t dating Sean. He doesn’t look like a bad guy. His face is kind and honest, though he looks nothing like my brother. This guy is geeky chic and a little reserved. Hannon was blond and blue-eyed, filled with life and joy that exuded through his pores into every person who entered his orbit.

  I close my eyes, the truth dawning on me in one tragic realization. Pain. Like me, Hannon was in pain. Only he chose to hide it from the two people who mattered most. And without so much as a heart-to-heart, he went his way alone, backed up into a corner where he made the ultimate sacrifice.

  Tears leak down my face, and my lips quiver as I wish he’d reached out. Just once would have been enough to talk him out of it. Every day, I love and hate him for not giving me that chance to change his mind. To be there for him the way he was always there for me.

  “Honor, no man loved Hannon more than I did. For five years, we were happy. He was in the closet, unable to share in our love publicly, but I didn’t care because he was mine, and that’s all I ever wanted and needed. Until he took that choice away from me. I would have taken what your parents were going to dish out. I’d have done anything to make him happy, change the past, make him believe we could suffer it all, as long as we had one another.” Tears form in Sean’s eyes, and the man near him places a hand on his shoulder.