Page 3 of Triple Power Play 2

I don’t bother listening to his sputtering. I end the call and dial my lawyer, then my agent. Then, to drive my point home, I get arena security to have him and his posse removed frommysuite.

2

AURORA

There’sthis blissful moment between asleep and awake when the sounds of the city seeps into my consciousness, and for a brief second, I don’t remember.

I’m suspended in time, neither happy nor sad.

Then, reality sets in, and my heart shatters all over again. It pounds frantically against my sternum, and I lie there just listening to it.

I didn’t at first—the first time, I gasped for air and ugly cried.

Now, I focus on the steady rhythm and wonder why it beats so fervently for someone impossible to love.

Next is guilt. I shouldn’t have left. He begged me to stay, and I didn’t listen. I should’ve stayed. I want to scream it into the abyss until it becomes reality.

I should’ve stayed.

Why didn’t I stay?

Then comes fear—the fear he’ll harm himself.

But I can’t bring myself to reach out to him, to offer him hope. I don’t want to speak to him, and I don’t want him back.

I’m angry, so fucking angry.

A hot tear slips down my cheek, landing on my nose, and I don’t bother brushing it away. I gaze out at the dreary gray sky over New York City, staring into nothingness until there’s a soft knock at my door.

There’s only one person it could be: Ricky.

Taking a deep breath, I gather every ounce of strength to sit up in bed. I’ve never felt so exhausted.

“I’m awake,” I call out.

He peeks his head in. “Hey, come eat.” He scans my face, and his tone softens. “Breakfast is ready.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and do what’s necessary. “I can’t afford to keep you.” My lips quiver, and I struggle to remain strong.

He clenches his jaw, the muscle bunching, and enters the room. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, but…”

“Jackson already paid me.”

I wince, pain lancing through my chest at his name. “You work for him.”

He shakes his head. “You’re my client, regardless of my employer. Anyhow, I ended it.”

“I can’t afford you, though.” The words barely escape, my throat tight with emotion. I don’t want to let him go, but I need to save every penny for the baby.

“He paid me for this trip. If he demands I reimburse him, which I doubt he will, we’ll talk. Now, come eat.”

In cotton pajama pants and a camisole, I remove the blanket and stand. I catch a wave of dizziness and nausea and return my ass to the bed. I’m shaking, and I briefly question whether I should call the doctor, but I know it’s only stress.

Ricky’s long stride eats up the distance. “You went to bed at seven last night. It’s been over twelve hours since you ate or drank anything.”

I lie down on the mattress. “I just need a minute.”

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