Me: Don’t bring Shrimp into this. He’s not going to forgive you very quickly for letting that witch kidnap him from his home.
Win: His home is with his bird mommy. Also, I’m waiting on pins and needles for that noisy-ass bird to forgive me. Ohhh, that’s right. I’m not.
Me: You’re lucky he can’t read.
Win: If you’re done having a childish tantrum, I’m going home to shower and then go to bed. Oh, I don’t know if I mentioned it or not, but I don’t have a towel warmer.
I stare at his text in confusion.
Me: ???
He doesn’t respond anymore. Asshole. I consider calling Perry to talk to him about what happened tonight, but he’s Win’s brother. I’m not sure I could handle the rejection if Perry snubbed me.
My phone buzzes with another incoming text but it’s not Winston.
Dad: They’re all three going to need surgery. Me and Manda are up at the hospital waiting to talk to them. I know you probably don’t care, but Manda is torn up and worried sick.
Guilt slithers through me which is annoying. They deserve everything they got. If Win hadn’t stopped them…I can’t even begin to think about what Scout would have done the night they tried to retaliate against me for their losing Harvard. I’m certain it would have irrevocably changed and broken me.
Me: Keep me posted.
Because I’d like to revel in their pain.
Me: And, Dad…if anything comes out about me on the news, don’t watch it.
Dad: What does that mean???
Me: Maybe nothing. Maybe it’s just me worrying.
Dad: What’s wrong? Are you in trouble? Did that man do something to you?
That man.
Winston Constantine is so much more than just that man. He’s a god among mortals. Powerful, rich, calculating. A villainous prince. The things he did to me are exactly what I’m afraid of. They’re things no normal human should want yet I’m clearly on video begging for it.
Dad: Ash, honey, talk to me. Do I need to call Manda’s attorney?
It’s her sons’ fault those pictures and videos got into Leo Morelli’s hands in the first place. No, thank you.
Me: I got this, Dad. Just wanted to give you a warning.
I don’t have “this” at all but I’m sure as hell not going to let my dad swoop in and save the day. This is my mess which means I’m going to have to clean it up.
Now that the tears have dried and determination has set in, I get started on unpacking my things. The apartment is admittedly cute and I’m secretly grateful I have a place to lie low. Away from everyone. Just me and my bird. I’m not sure how long I’ll be allowed to stay here, especially if Win thinks he’s going to try and push me out of his life over this, but I have it when I need it most and that’s all that matters.
After a hot shower where I wash away the craptastic day I’ve had, I turn out the lights, drape Shrimp’s blanket over his cage, and then crawl into bed. It’s not as soft as the one I sleep on at Win’s but it’s still nice. I search online on my phone for a bit looking for an apology present. Once I purchase it, I change the direction of my searching. To me and Win.
So far…no sex scandal blasted all over the internet.
Doesn’t help my anxiety any. It just feels like a bomb waiting to detonate. The anticipation is worse than the explosion.
I imagine a giant, blown-up version of Winston fucking my ass on one of the billboards in Times Square. Okay, so maybe the explosion will be a lot worse than the anticipation. Ugh.
As much as I want to stew over what Leo may or may not do, I try and channel my thoughts someplace else. My mind drifts to a simpler life when Tate was my boyfriend. Things weren’t so stressful back then. Boring, yes, but safe.
Nothing about my life is safe now.
I got in bed with a lion and I’m learning maybe I’m just a little mouse.
I’m way out of my depth here.
Loneliness has me reaching out to someone I once could count on. Tate. That is, until the triplets ran him off. I’m craving our easy friendship and his steady words. Since his number isn’t programed on my new phone, I reach out to him on Facebook.
Me: Life’s crazy these days. There’s so much I want to tell you. We should grab coffee and catch up soon.
I wish we’d have stayed friends but it’s one more thing that the Terror Triplets ruined in my life. It’s time to start taking back my life. I can start small. Tate’s not like all these other men I’ve been dealing with. He’s a good person. I know him. He’ll offer me his shoulder to cry on and then he’ll give me the motivation I need to pull myself out of the dirt.