Page 150 of Sinful Blaze

But right before I set it down to forget it for a while, a different name and number pops up on the screen. Someone I actually want to talk to for a change!

“Hazey Baby, what’s up?”

“Are you sitting down?”

I don’t like the sound of her voice. She’s dead serious. I ease myself onto my vanity chair and reach for the jar of moisturizer. “Now, I am. What’s going on?”

“Conrad came by my place this morning. Like, not even an hour ago.”

I go still. “What did he want?”

“What else? You. He kept demanding to see you, and wouldn’t believe me when I told him you don’t live here. Literally shoved his way into my home just to make sure you weren’t hiding in a closet from him.”

“Shit, Haze! Are you okay?”

She scoffs. “I’m fine, just shaken. And also shaking, like, with fucking rage. Who does that? Who the hell does he think he is?”

“I am so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Girl, for you? I’d take a bullet. I’d take the whole clip if I needed to. I just wanted you to know in case he’s trying to pull some bullshit.”

“Like always.” Sure enough, he’s still trying to call me when I don’t respond to his barrage of texts. I hit the button to send him straight to voicemail. “Thanks, though. You’re a real one.”

“You wanna know the best part?”

My ears perk up. “There’s a best part?”

“Big time. Have you seen his hand?”

I pause midway through blending my foundation into my skin. His hand?

Oh. Right.

The one Pasha broke into pieces.

“I, uh… Not yet. Is it mangled?”

“So, overall, dude looks like shit. I don’t know when the last time he’s bathed, or eaten a healthy meal, or what. He’s losing it. But his hand? Girl. Girl. Your man did a number! Honestly, I’m genuinely shocked they didn’t amputate.”

The compassionate Good Citizen in me, the one who abides by the law and cares for people no matter how bad they are, cringes.

The Bad Bitch who’s carrying a mob boss’s baby doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Actually, she does—in that she wants to see the thorough job her man did to her enemy.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a picture, would you?” I cannot believe I just asked that.

“No, sorry. I was too busy trying to get his ugly ass out of my apartment. But if you want a close likeness, just do a search for ‘hamburger inside glove.’”

My jaw drops. “That bad?”

“Honestly, worse. Well, anyway, I gotta go. I’ll let you know if his dumb ass shows up again. And I’ll take pics if he does.”

“Thanks. Love you. Oh!” I grab my phone as if it will stop her from hanging up just yet. “One more thing: I’m gonna go ahead and change my phone number. Again.”

“Say less. Just text me so I have the new one. Love you.”

I let out a sigh of relief. Conrad may be a lunatic and Brittany might be every bit as bad. But Hazel still loves me. Pasha still loves me. My sister still loves me.

---