Page 55 of Ruthless Lullaby

"Are you ready for our first date?" He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

I'm practically dripping at his words. If I could have my way, I would skip dinner and take him to fourth base right here, right now.

"Why are you doing this to me, Maron?" I whisper.

"Because I want you to sign that contract.” He runs his finger along my chin. “I want you to experience what we could have together."

I don’t even know what to do with all this. I’m a grown-ass woman, not a horny schoolgirl with raging sex hormones. But I feel exactly like the latter.

I also feel like I'm losing pieces of myself in whatever this is. Ever since that night in New York High, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The thoughts and emotions I'm experiencing are uncharted territory, unlike anything I've ever known before. It is a completely new world that goes against everything I have ever experienced in my life. But in this moment, none of that matters. All that matters is the inexplicable chemistry and the visceral pull between us.

Maybe it’s all a lie, Mindy.

Sure, maybe. Whatever the case, my body is betraying me to a man I barely know. I don't have the answers. I don’t know what to make of it.What I do know is that every time he’s near me, I'm more turned on than I thought I was capable of. And I can’t help but marvel at this newfound ability my body seems to have. Sure, I always had a high libido, but this, this is beyond anything I ever thought possible. I never knew I could desire someone so much.

As we silently glide across the empty streets of the city, something strikes me. I haven't checked my emails since before I left for the gig. Perhaps it would be wise to do that before we get on the plane and I have to switch my phone to airplane mode for several hours.

So, I pull up my emails, filtering through all the promotions and newsletters, until one email catches my eye. The subject line says: “Update on Mrs. Lindsey Williams’ progress.” It’s about my mother. I quickly tap the screen to open the contents of the email.

“Dear Miss Mindy Williams,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I am writing to inform you of the latest developments regarding the treatment of your mother, Mrs. Lindsey Williams. We are pleased to report that the current treatment regimen has been effective, and her condition is currently stable.

However, it is necessary to continue with another set of treatments over the course of the next two months to ensure her ongoing recovery. The total cost of these treatments is estimated to be $92,720. I would like to note that her health insurance only covers $34,570 of this amount.

We understand that decisions regarding medical treatment can be difficult, and we want to ensure that you are fully informed and comfortable with any course of action moving forward. Therefore, please take the time to consider this information and let us know if you would like to proceed with the recommended treatment plan.

If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us. Your mother's health and comfort are our top priority, and we are here to support you in any way we can.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Dr. Thomas Walker, Chief Oncologist”

Chapter Twenty-One

Mindy

Maron's voice jolts me awake.

I sit up abruptly with my head spinning. "Wake up, Mindy," he says, a sense of urgency in his tone.

"What?" I grumpily reply, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the remnants of a fitful slumber. As reality slowly sets in, memories from the past couple of hours flood my mind – being tucked into Maron’s car against my will, the hospital visit, getting back in Maron’s car to drive to the airport. It all seems like a distant memory. The only thing that feels real is the intoxicating oaky scent that still lingers in my nostrils.

"Where are we?" I groggily ask.

"At the airport," Maron answers, his voice snapping me out of my daze. "The plane is waiting."

I push myself up, feeling like an airport is the last place I want to be right now. It’s late and I'm exhausted, hungry, and disoriented. I want to sink back into the warmth of the car seat. I must have dozed off on the way here. My body is aching for the comfort of a real bed and a good night’s sleep. But even as I try to cling to the fleeting moments of rest, a nagging thought invades my mind – Dr. Walker's email. The glimmer of hope treatment that could save my mother's life... at a cost that makes my head reel.

Even before I’m fully awake, my mind is running the numbers, trying to calculate the costs. Ninety-two minus thirty-four... that’s fifty-eight. Thousand, of course. The daunting figure bounces around in my mind, seeming impossible, no matter how hard I try to come up with a solution. I really don’t know how to get that kind of money without stripping at Kevin’s joint every night, being yelled at and propositioned by drunken billionaires.

As we step out of the car, a blast of cold air smacks me in the face. I wrap my cardigan around myself, shivering. "Holy crap, it’s freezing out here," I mumble. I'm still dressed in my performance outfit, complete with high heels. The wind whips through the airfield, causing my hair to dance in the chilly air. Maron walks up next to me, gently guiding me towards a sleek private jet that shines like a beacon in the dark. "What is this?" I ask, curious.

"It's called an airplane. Have you seen one before?" Maron says with a chuckle.

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