Donny: Starving. When and where?
Storm: Holy shit. He’s alive. Parker was about to send a search party.
Handsy: She did. She sent us. Fucker wouldn’t open his door, though.
Storm: Parker sent a real search party. One who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Donny: Tell my sister that I’m a fully grown adult who is perfectly capable of looking after himself.
Storm: Fuck off, she knows you better than that.
I roll my eyes.
Storm: You’re good, though, yeah?
Donny: Never been better.
It’s probably one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told. But like fuck am I telling the truth. Parker will be on the first flight home from the tropical paradise Linc whisked her off to a couple of days ago.
Killer: Flipz? Hour?
Monroe: I’m there.
I nod despite the fact no one can see me.
Donny: See you there.
Dropping my cell to the coffee table, I push to my feet and march to my bathroom to wash up.
Going out with the guys is what I need. It’ll be the perfect distraction, and if I’m lucky, it won’t end in a club.
“Shit,” I hiss as I step into the shower.
Killer will want to make a night of it. And as tempting as that is, can I risk it?
One story in the press and Hailee is going to rip my balls off with her bare hands.
I stand there with the water pounding down on my shoulders, my doubt growing.
Before I know what I’m doing, my fists are curled and hurtling toward the tiles beside me.
Pain shoots up my arm, and blood splatters the tiles.
As my frustration grows, so does my anger. Confusion follows it, and only a minute or so later, I sink to the floor, wrapmy arms around my legs, and do something I haven’t done in a long time. I cry.
I don’t know how long passes, but when I finally force myself to turn the water off and step out, I feel weirdly refreshed.
Although any relief I was feeling soon vanishes when I get back to my cell, because the second I light it up and find an email waiting for me, my stomach sinks to my feet.
The results.
20
BEATRICE
“Ithink you could make it really cozy,” Sienna says as she unpacks a box of plates and mugs beside me.
“Hmm,” I mumble as I select a cupboard for the glasses. It’s a fast decision, seeing as there are only a handful to choose from.
