Page 129 of Morally Gray Daddies

Him.

Fin ‘Phineas’ Desmond Sterling.

The only good thing I’d brought with me from this fucked-up town.

He’d be here any minute. He’d been in NY when the story broke. But he was on his way, and I couldn’t wait to fall in his arms and let him make everything right.

Just the thought of Fin made me feel better. Forcing a smile I didn’t quite feel, I blew my nose, threw the tissue in the old, stained, toilet bowl, and dug in my designer purse for my makeup bag. Fresh lipstick, blush, and mascara later, I almost didn’t even look like I’d been crying my eyes out for the past two hours.

I dug around in drawers and cabinets until I found some candles and matches and lit them, trying desperately for an air of romantic ambiance in this shithole.

After wetting an old rag and dusting off of every surface, I grabbed my perfume from my luggage and walked around, spritzing the air liberally, until the mildew smell was masked by lilac, citrus and vanilla.

It barely made a difference, but a little effort was better than none, and Fin would appreciate it.

If Damon was the boy mothers warned their daughters about, Finn was the boy they dreamed about their daughters marrying. Unlike Damon and me, Finn had not been from the wrong side of the tracks.

He’d grown up in the mansion on top of the hill, but you’d never know it by the way he acted. He’s always wanted nothing to do with the other rich kids in town.

Instead, he’d befriended the new kid in the three-sizes-too-big leather jacket, ripped jeans and stained t-shirt. Instead, he’d vowed to always protect the girl who hid bruises behind her smile, her perfect report card and her many talents.

Fin had been our best friend, and when Damon broke my heart, it was Finn who stuck around to pick up the pieces.

Chapter Two

Sabrina

I turned my phone on to check in and see where Fin was, but turned it right back off again when the hundreds of notifications blew it up so hard I couldn’t even open the Life360 app.

Swallowing back bile, I threw it in my purse. Hopefully Fin was okay and wasn’t trying to reach me for any reason. Even if he was, he’d understand. Fin was easygoing. Cool like that. He had very few hot buttons, and me not answering was not one of them.

The notifications sent off a fresh wave of tears, so it was off to the bathroom to freshen up once more.

I blew my nose, washed my face and did my makeup all over again. To have something to do and stay busy, I found a roll of paper towels, some probably decade-old Windex and cleaned the bathroom mirror, sink and counters. I debated doing the toilet but Windex wasn’t going to cut it and I wasn’t a miracle worker. Or a maid.

My hands were shaking and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. Was it from the events of the past forty-eight hours or was it from being back here?

I shivered. I hated it here. The fact that this was where I’d run to was just a testament to how desperate I was. How badly I craved solitude and anonymity, and the ability to lick my wounds without paparazzi following me around, announcing to the world that’s what I was doing.

Still, I’d come with basically no supplies other than the change of clothes I kept in my car and whatever was in my purse. Hopefully Finn remembered the necessities.

I heard the door creak open and almost sank to my knees with relief.

Checking my reflection one last time, I declared it as good as it was going to get, pasted on a smile that I hoped looked genuine, and flung the bathroom door open. It only took me a few steps to make it to the center of the house, where I had a perfect view of the rest of the place.

The front door was wide open, and the bathroom door I’d just come out of, but the doors to the bedrooms and closets were closed.

Fin wasn’t there.

Outside the wind shrieked, banging the door shut. A classic scene for a horror film setup. A shiver ran down my spine, but I ignored it. This wasn’t a horror movie—I was just on edge.

Fin probably had a bunch of stuff to carry in, and he’d gone back out to the car to grab it. That had to be it.

I’d help him. I’d help him, and heat up a can of soup or whatever he’d brought for us to eat and curl up while watching a movie on his laptop via my hotspot. And we could lock the doors, I thought as I nodded to myself, pleased with my plan.

I took a step forward intending to do just that and opened my mouth to call out his name.

Someone grabbed me from behind, one hand around my waist, the other over my mouth, tight. Preventing me from screaming.

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