My stomach twisted when I saw that footballer—the one Jaden said played for another team. He was in the middle of accepting a suspicious packet from someone. Gulping, I lifted my phone, just high enough to stay out of sight and took a photo. I managed to get another one with a few more faces before I made eye contact with a man in a suit, sitting on a couch.
His eyes narrowed on me.
Crap.I knew I was busted. One good look at me and anyone would know I didn't belong here. He snapped his fingers at someone who looked like a bouncer-type. Immediately, I spun around and hightailed it to the door. I didn’t get very far before I collided with something hard that appeared right in front of me. It turned out to be a huge guy with arms big enough to squash me like a bug. I turned around only to bump into his twin.
Dammit.
I was caged in by security, and I was so screwed.
Fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered overhead, mocking me. Never in a million years did I picture myself sitting in a jail cell. Mom and Dad would have flown into a tizzy if they could see me. Ethan would probably have a heart attack—he acted more like my father than elder brother.
I shuffled on the cold metal bench, as if I could ever get comfortable here. The entire cell smelled like cheap perfume and regret. I let out a sigh.
A raspy voice penetrated my haze of misery. “Your first time, huh?”
I glanced up at one of the women I was wedged between. She wore a leopard-print bodysuit and a platinum wig that defied physics.
“In lock-up?” I nodded. “Yes.”
“I can tell,” the other woman said.
I looked to my right. That woman wore leather pants, a rhinestone bra with a leather jacket that hadDaddy’s Problemscrawled on the front.
“Did you just start in the game?” she asked.
My eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t follow.”
She chuckled, giving me a once-over. “Did you just start working the corner?” she drawled.
“What corner…?” My eyes widened. Oh, dear God. “No. No. I’m not a sex worker. Not that I’m judging.”
Platinum Wig smirked. “Then what are you doing here?”
Leaning back against the wall, I sighed heavily. “I was chasing a story.”
Both women giggled. My lips twisted into a wry smile. Of course, they thought I was full of shit.
“Girl, me too,” Daddy’s Problem said. “Except my story involved tequila, a married man driving a Lamborghini, and the cops. The boys in blue sure know how to ruin a party.”
Platinum Wig laughed uproariously, and despite my frustration, I did too. The cell echoed with the sound of giggles. It felt good to find amusement in something. Earlier, I thought the worst that would happen was getting thrown out of the club on my ass. When I found myself in the back of a patrol car, I almost cried.
I had tried to play an overzealous Phoenix Sky fan, sneaking backstage for a photo, but no one budged. The punishment didn’t fit the crime, in my opinion. Jail for crashing a party? Talk about overkill. That only heightened my suspicion that I was on to something big.
As my laughter died down, I said, “You know what the worst part about tonight is?”
“Oh, you mean jail isn't rock bottom?” Daddy’s Problem quipped.
I snorted. “How about having to call your ex to bail you out?”
The ladies gasped and shook their heads.
Platinum Wig clutched her chest. “Honey, I’d rather do my time in here.”
Groaning, I leaned my head back against the wall. That phone call to Lincoln was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. But he was the only one I knew in LA who would come get me fromjail.
“I’m never going to live this down,” I said.
The ladies gave me sympathetic looks. They made my time in lockup bearable with hilarious conversation until an officer appeared.
