Page 42 of Bounty
Shit.
Fuck.
Goddamn.
Did Effie tell?Impossible!
Why the hell would she tell her mother, after promising she wouldn’t? No, she wouldn’t do that. Daria made a lucky guess, and I wouldn’t incriminate myself by telling the truth. Whether Effie had spilled the beans or not, confessing would lead to other fucking problems.
“Excuse me? Sex withEffie?” I pretended outrage at the very suggestion, though I ached to hold her in my arms again. See her gaze soften and look at me as if I owned the fucking world. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Don’t play dumb—”
“Is that why you sent your daughter running off in tears during a professional event? Because you think I fucked her?” I asked, solidifying my dislike for Daria.
I suspected the bullshit she handed me about Effie being too good for me hid the real reason she’d warned me away. Maybe, she sincerely wanted me to contact her other daughter, but Daria Monroe hid a wealth of jealousy for her daughter that she masked as concern.
Not only was she a dumb bitch, but a malicious one, too. Even without all theotherbullshit, afterthisbullshit, I’d be hard-pressed to work another gig for her. She had the decency to look guilty, but she still wouldn’t back the fuck down. I suppose that was where Effie got it from.
“She knows I want you with Cassie and that seducing you was wrong—”
“Stop right there.” I couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth. This was not the Daria I’d met before, and certainly not the woman Effie praised. “She didn’t seduce me, and no matter what happened, that didn’t give you the right to cause a scene because of what your grown fucking daughter did!”
I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the rage and disgust flowing through me at the thought of anyone hurting Effie, of fucking blaming her for an act that tooktwowilling participants.
“Fuck this,” I muttered, turning on my heel, intending to search for Effie and comfort her.
“You could be sued for breach of contract if you step out that damn door, Slice!” Daria’s threat stopped me dead in my tracks.
We were causing a fucking scene, risking being kicked out if shit got any more out of hand. And yet, that didn’t phase me one bit.
Daria stepped closer, more composed. “I don’t think you want the law involved,” she continued, quieter. Her voice trembled. “So please, let’s just finish the convention, and then you’re free to go where you please.”
Damn it all to hell, but she was right. The last thing I needed was a civil suit over some dumb shit. A lawsuit could lead to more discoveries, not only fucking over myself but my brothers and family.
“I’ll pay you an extra five hundred,” she offered as if cash was the issue here.
Yet, money never hurt. I could use it for gas, some good weed, or to buy Effie a nice gift and properly apologize. The thought swayed me, and begrudgingly, I resumed my spot by the table.
The rest of the convention went by in a blur, and the glances cast by the other attendees grated on my nerves. I checked for messages from Effie to an obsessive degree, disappointment and worry coursing through me each time I came up empty.
What did I expect? She hadn’t texted me in two fucking days.
Once we were free to leave, I was out of there. As I hightailed it to my bike, I dialed Effie’s number. Still no answer. A frustrated growl left me. I couldn’t get to the hotel fast enough, and I prayed that she was curled up in her room, safe and sound. A bad feeling had settled in my gut, and I’d learned to trust that motherfucker. Instincts wouldn’t lead you astray; they were designed to protect.
“Effie,” I called, pounding on her hotel door. “Sweetheart, are you in there?”
I knocked for ten minutes straight to no avail. That bothersome fucking feeling of something being wrong hadn’t left and propelled me to kick the goddamn door.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cause damage to hotel property, seeing as I’m footing the bill,” Daria said, the last person I wanted to fucking see.
“Effie isn’t in there.” The realization tore me up.
Because fuck, if she wasn’t there, where the hell was she? She could be anywhere. I was at a loss as to where to start looking because she wouldn't answer her phone. Maybe I was paranoid, too used to the worst outcome, but something wasn’t right. I’d rather throw a fit over nothing, than ignore my instincts.
Daria rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she is. She’s just pouting like a child.”
Dislike Daria, huh? Nope! It was official; I couldn’t stand this fucking bitch.
