Page 88 of Daddy's Wild Girl

“It’s all right, I made sure no one followed us. I think maybe I imagined seeing someone. A trick of the light. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She didn’t reply as he pulled into a gas station up ahead. Parking, he turned on the interior lights and started to swear.

“What . . . what is it?” She was hugging herself tight, her clothes damp and clinging to her. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess, and her mascara was running down her cheeks. Her lips were tinged blue and he knew he had no time to waste.

“You’re frozen. Start taking off those clothes,” he commanded.

“H-here?” She looked around.

“Yes. We have to get you out of them.”

“All r-right, but there are b-better ways of g-getting me naked.”

He breathed a small sigh of relief. If she was joking, then things couldn’t be too bad. Although . . . she often used a joke or said something sassy to mask what was really going on in her head. So he reached over and grasped her chin before he got out.

“Everything will be all right.”

“My m-mother thinks she can m-manipulate me into d-doing whatever she wants.”

“Well, she can’t,” he said firmly. “Because you’re an adult and you can tell her no. Hear me?”

“Yes.”

“If you want, I’ll be there with you when you tell her you won’t be doing the show. I also think you should tell her what you think of her.”

She stared up at him and a small smile touched her lips. “Not really part of your job description.”

“Screw that.”

“And you’ll lose your job. My mother doesn’t like when people refuse to do what she wants them to do.”

“It might lose me this job. But I can tell you right now that Kent will back me the whole way.”

“He sounds like a good boss.”

“He’s an even better man and he takes care of people. So don’t worry about my job. Now, start stripping.”

23

Bebe felt numb.

And it wasn’t because she was cold.

She was numb on the inside.

Had she overreacted to the TV ad? Yeah, probably.

But at that moment, she just needed to get away. Do something to get rid of all the thoughts pounding through her head and just feel free.

Had she thought about jumping off the bridge?

Not really.

She didn’t want to die. She simply wanted to breathe. To feel free from all the emotions bombarding her.

Anger. Fear. Worry.

But mostly betrayal.

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