Page 79 of All Yours

“So, who purchased the plastic face and lip injections?” I hissed.

Mom’s mouth dropped. “How dare you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You drag me out in public to pretend to fill me with love and praise, hoping that I’ll return and perform like a monkey for you once again for money.” I slouched back in the booth seat; all the energy drained from my body. I didn’t have it in me to do this fight anymore.

“I am appalled that this is what you think,” Dad said. “The minute we found out where you were and that you were in trouble again, we sent help. And now you sit here and accuse us of using you?”

“You called them,” I said, indicating the paparazzi still on the sidewalk shooting photos of us through the windows. “You want them to publish photos of this meeting as an advertisement for the story line of your upcoming show.”

“There’s still interest in you. We need to strike while it’s hot,” Mom said.

“I’m going to go,” I said, pulling money out of my wallet.

“There are people watching,” Dad whispered.

“Wait,” Mom said, digging into the giant bag at her side and pulling out a large manilla envelope. “Here.”

“What is it?” I asked, tossing money on the table and standing.

“It’s the contract for the show.” She handed it to me.

“Have that lawyer look it over for you and see if he understands it.” Dad quipped with a grin.

“Lunch is on me,” I said, pointing to the cash on the table. There were people watching, and I wouldn’t give anyone here the satisfaction of a public meltdown. “I wish you the best in your life, but I want nothing to do with either of you.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jonah

The road outside of Sloane’s gravel drive was clear. For weeks there had been at least one car waiting with someone trying to snap of photo of Sloane leaving the residence. The sky, heavy with gray clouds, appeared ready to unleash its contents at any moment.

As usual, the gate was closed. I stared at the call box with its number pad. What if she didn’t want to see me? She hadn’t contacted me. God, I missed her. For the first time in a couple of years, I had no idea what was going on in her life. Was she okay? How was the legal thing coming along? Jeremy couldn’t talk to me about it.

I pressed the call button and waited. No answer. Either she looked at the camera and ignored me or she wasn’t there.

“Sloane, if you’re there, say something, please,” I said into the call mic. I could try the code. Had she changed it? If not, I could wait for her on the porch. Would she be mad if I entered? Perhaps I should call her?

I retrieved my phone from the seat beside me and glanced up to find the gate opening. Sloane’s car pulled into the drive behind me. She followed me to the house. I pulled the truck off to the side where I normally parked.

“Sorry, I came by unannounced,” I called, getting out.

Sloane barreled out of the car and stomped up the steps.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” she yelled, then whirled around. “Or maybe I’m better than I’ve ever been in my whole life. Cause now I see the truth.”

“What happened?”

“My parents.” Sloane pushed through the front door carrying a manilla envelope tucked under an arm.

I followed as she stormed through the room, slinging her purse off toward the couch. It crashed to the floor. She pulled Sebastian’s book off the shelf and retrieved a shoe box from the bottom shelf.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s a box that has all the police reports, shrink reports, and newspaper clippings from my breakdown.” She gathered up the book and box and headed to the back door.

“You kept all that?” I asked, crossing, and beating her to the door.

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