Page 3 of Dirty Grovel

My jaw drops. “I’m trapped in the middle of the ocean with Oleg and you’re makingjokes?”

“Hey, laughing is a whole lot better than crying about everything. Look at me. I’ve been trapped in my bedroom since yesterday, with guards posted outside my door—but you don’t hear me crying about it, do you?”

“What?!”

Sydney sighs. “Sorry to dump on you while you’re going through your own little drama but… yeah. I’m kinda in the same boat—figuratively speaking, in my case of course.”

“Jesus, Syd, what happened?”

“Paul and I had another fight.”

“Did he hit you again?” I demand.

“No, not this time. But he did threaten to never let me out of this room until my hair turns grey.” She takes a deep breath. “I might have to leave him.”

“You think?!” I yell incredulously. “You should have left him a long time ago, Sydney!”

“Okay, theI told you so’saren’t helping.”

“Right,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I promised to help you out and then I go and land myself here.”

I bite my lip. “Does that mean you can’t get the money to me?”

“I’m still working on it,” she reassures me. “I’ll just need a little more time. I made friends with one of the guards outside my door. I think he may be able to help me pawn a couple of pieces of jewelry. Then I can Venmo you the cash the moment I get it.”

“Shit, I’m sorry to even ask right now, Syd.”

“Please. That’s what sisters are for. When you’re free and in the clear, maybe you could come over and save me in return.”

“Of course. That’s what sisters are for, after all.”

“Okay, but you have to keep me posted about where you are. Bahamas. Maldives. The freaking Cayman Islands. Honestly, are you really on the run or on vacation?”

I shake my head. “I wish I could laugh at things the way you can.”

“Just takes a little practice, girl. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I hope I never have to again,” I sigh, gripping the phone a little tighter because I know I’m going to have to say goodbye soon. “I miss you, Syd.”

“Hang in there, baby sister. Us Palmer women may be judgement-impaired when it comes to men, but we’re strong, we’re resilient, and we can get out of any mess we get ourselves into.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m right. We’ll get through this, you and me, together. Just give me twenty-four hours. Until then—” I startle as a sound comes from the opposite side of the door.He’s here. Probably with a sledgehammer.“—be careful and stay safe.”

The door vibrates as something heavy rams it from the other side.

I glance at my phone. Eighteen percent battery.

Dammit.

Sydney’s right, though. Us Palmer women are strong. We are resilient.

And if we go down, we go down fighting.

Mom kicked and screamed even as she was being dragged into the police car. She cussed out the cops who cuffed her and screamed obscenities as they shoved her into the back seat of the police vehicle.

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