Page 89 of Black Roses

“My baby is back there, you stupid prick. Let me go!”

My head snaps over to the familiar voice. Cassidy is being restrained by a hospital security guard. She looks gorked out, like that night at the movies. I put the clipboard down and rush over to her. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“Mason!” she belts out. “Tell this meathead to let me in.”

I look at the guard, who swipes a finger across the tip of his nose several times and then gestures back to Cassidy.

I take a step closer and see it—the faint trace of white power on the edge of her nostrils. “What the fuck, Cass?”

She struggles to free herself from the guard. “My baby is back there. She needs her mama.” She barks at him, “Let. Me. Go!”

I shake my head at the guard, letting him know to keep his grip. “Cassidy!” I raise my voice and hold my palm out in front of her to stop her repeated ramblings. “The only reason your baby is here is because you left the goddamn gate open. Were you doped up then, too? How dare you put my daughter in danger like that. And how could you leave her with a sitter and then go off the fucking grid forfivehours? What kind of mother does that?”

“How can you be so sure it was me and not, uh . . . Miranda? And what about you?” She maneuvers closer to me with the guard still latched onto her arm. I can smell the rancid mixture of vodka and drugs coming from her every pore. “Your stupid little bitch called me because she couldn’t find you. What wereyoudoing, Mason? Don’t pretend like you’re Prince-fucking-Charming when you were off banging some other groupie.”

My jaw drops at her hateful, accusing words and I become aware that more than a few people are staring at our exchange. I even see a few phones come out.

Shit.

“Sir,” I speak to the guard, “Can we take this somewhere a little more private, please?” I nod at the kid taking video of us as if he’s filming the next Emmy-winning documentary.

The security guard looks around the waiting area to see the attention we’ve managed to draw. “Come on,” he says, grabbing Cassidy’s arm and parading her through the sea of onlookers as she throws a tantrum that I’m sure will be displayed all over the internet by sunrise.

We’re escorted to a private room near the nurses’ station. He shuts the door behind us and releases Cassidy, pointing to a chair while staring her down. Like a petulant child, she stomps over to it and sits down melodramatically.

“First off,” I tear into her, “the babysitter’s name is Amanda, not Miranda. Jesus, Cassidy, do you even know who you are leaving her with?” I shudder to think she’s not bothering to screen the people she’s entrusting the care of our child to.

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Who cares what her name is. Can we get back to why I can’t see my own daughter?”

The guard’s eyes ping-pong between us, seeming more interested in our conversation than doing his job.

I step closer to get a good look at her eyes. “You’re stoned out of your mind, Cass, and probably drunk, too. You can’t see her like this.”

The door to our private room swings open with such force, the handle puts a dent in the drywall. A tall man, much too thin for his frame, bursts into the room. Before he even speaks, I take in his bloodshot eyes and the ashy-grey hue of his skin. He looks emaciated, like he belongs in his own hospital bed.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes dart around the room, and he sniffs incessantly as his gaze settles on Cassidy. “I thought we were here to check on the kid.”

“Check onthe kid?”Rage boils my blood and my hands clench into tight fists as I walk across the room towards him. “Are you referring to my not-even-two-year-old daughter, who was abandoned by her mother and her drug-dealing boyfriend?”

“I suggest you back off, asshole,” he says, puffing out his gaunt, skeletal chest to try and make himself look larger. I look him up and down, noting he’s a different guy than she was with the night at the movies. But both seeming equally as drugged up as she is.

“How many guys are there, Cassidy? Are you bringing them around my daughter?”

“You chose to walk away, Mason,” Cassidy says, defending her actions. “Who I bring around isn’t your concern or your problem.”

“Not my concern?” A muscle twitches in my jaw as unrelenting fury adds venom to my voice. “She’s my daughter, Cass. Thereisno concern greater than her. I didn’t walk away from Hailey. I would never walk away from my child. I walked away fromyou.”

Cassidy’s nose starts to run and she pulls a tissue from her purse. “What about Snow White? You seem awfully concerned abouther.”

My hard, corded body vibrates with tension as I keep her companion in my periphery. I take a breath to calm myself. The last thing we need here is more of a scene. “Piper is my girlfriend, Cass. Despite your attempts to break us up. That isn’t going to change. Well, until she agrees to become my wife.”

Cassidy squeals so loud she makes her date jump. “Wife? Are you fucking kidding me?” An icy-cold bitterness contorts her face.

“Is that what this is all about?” I flick my nose. “Me moving on? Because you’re delusional if you think I will ever get back with you. And you sealed that deal when you tried to mess with Piper.”

She tries to get up, but the security guard puts his hand on her shoulder, forcing her back into the chair.

“Get your hands off her!” her date barks at him, shoving him away from Cassidy and hard against the nearby wall.

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