“I don’t know. Abby said Georgie slit her wrists and was pale and unmoving when she was wheeled away.”
“We have a concert, Sloane,” Maitland reminds me, either finished with his blow job or stopping it when he heard the news. “Tonight and tomorrow.”
Yes, we’re in Little Rock and, as usual, we’ve sold out. Refunds are a fucking nightmare.
“Call Bullard,” I order Kiln, referring to our pilot. “I’m flying to Houston immediately after the concert. Get Abby back on the phone for me.”
Kiln glares at me and I know I need an assistant. Or I need to do this shit myself. But fuck him. Kiln deserves my treatment.
“What about me?” the woman I just finished fucking asks.
“Time for you to leave,” I say. And it is. She’s had her night with us, got dick from each of us. Not only is she meaningless to me, but she’s now useless, too.
I don’t stay around to wait. I’m an asshole and I really don’t give a fuck.
Sloane
She’s hooked up to all types of machines. Just like my sister was when she arrived at the hospital via Life Flight. But it was too late for her. She was gray, cold, and lifeless. DOA.
The memory has been shoved so far into my psyche, buried beneath years of drug and alcohol use, and anger, that I couldn’t even conjure it when I pulled Georgie from the pool.
Now, I do, though, and I think I’m going to throw-up. Cry. Kill.
Behind me, the door opens, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. If I stare at Georgie long enough, she might wake up. I touch her tangled hair and her name flutters from my lips.
I’m not sure if I’m heard or not. “Georgie.”
Maybe, it only resounds in my head.
It’s morning. We touched down in the city several hours ago. I came straight to the hospital, which Kiln anticipated. He had two vehicles awaiting the band members instead of the customary one. They could’ve stayed behind in Arkansas, but, surprisingly, they’ve rallied behind me.
“Sloane?”
My aunt’s here. Abby. She touches my arm, but I don’t look away from Georgiana.
“She cut her wrists. She was in a little room. Cassandra…”
Her voice trails off and I snap my attention to her. “What about her?”
“She locked her up,” she cries softly. “Helen, her mother I think…got the whole story from her and called Parnell. She said…she said Cassandra wanted to get Georgie clean.” She covers her eyes. “I’ve never heard a man scream the way Parnell…she was so bloody. I thought she was dead, too.”
“Where’s Cassandra?”
The calmness of my words are shocking, considering I’m ready to murder her with my bare hands. Strangulation is personal. She fucking needs personal.
“On her way to a mental hospital.”
Out of my reach then. But I know someone who isn’t. “Where does Crowell live?” I ask, gritting my teeth. I don’t even know that motherfucker’s last name.
The monitor skips a beat and draws my attention. Georgie moves on the bed. I hold my breath, waiting for her eyes to open.
They don’t and the disappointment increases my anger.
“I don’t know anything about Crowell.”
To keep from shaking my aunt, who should be thanked instead of terrorized, I ball my hands into fists. “Find out. I don’t give a fuck how. I want fucking Crowell.”
My dick is precious to me, but I’d use it to choke that motherfucker. My attention returns to Georgie. Just as I touch her again, someone else speaks.
“Perhaps, I can deliver him to you?”
An older woman stands there. She’s well put together. “Who the fuck are you?”
She lifts an elegant silver brow and draws herself up. I tower over this woman but she makes me feel small. “Helen Sanderson. And you, sir?”
Fuck. Cassandra’s mother. I can already tell she’s a worse bitch than her daughter. “Sloane Mason.”
“Ahhh.” The little sing-song and tight smile fucks me off. “So you’re the one who agreed to my son-in-law’s games once your father backed out.”
At this, Abby shrinks behind me. I’m not sure if Helen hasn’t seen my aunt or if she’s just ignoring her. On second thought, this woman enjoys fucking with you. She hasn’t noticed Abby.
“Aren’t you?”
“Lady, talk to your dickhead son-in-law and your long-suffering daughter. They extended the fucking invitation and I accepted it. Case closed and something I didn’t give a fuck about then and don’t give a fuck about now.” I should shut the fuck up. She can bar me from seeing her granddaughter. “If you have anything to discuss with me, I’ll do it later, after I bash Crowell’s head in.” Because I will stomp him into the fucking ground.
She circles around me and finally spots Abby. My aunt clutches my forearm and visibly shakes at Helen’s cool smile. “I see Parnell has told you who I am.”
Abby isn’t a subdued woman. She flaunts her golden beauty, her sexuality, her love of life. Right now, she’s about to piss herself.
Helen opens her designer clutch and pulls a card out, handing it to Abby. “Call me tomorrow.”