“I’m starving,” I say immediately.
“Go hop in the shower. I’m gonna take you on a breakfast date.”
I roll over and look at him. “A date?”
“Yeah, angel. It’s the least I can do after deflowering you last night.” He winks. “Now go.”
I can’t help smiling. “Well, okay, then.”
When I’m done with my shower, I am excited about the idea of a date. Pretending he is my first is wrong, but for some reason, it makes me happy. Deliriously happy.
I have no clothes. I laugh at myself when I open the door to come out. Then I freeze when I hear Jason arguing with a man.
“I ended it with Missy days ago, Dad,” Jason snaps.
“She threatened to go to the media about the son of the mayor’s abusive behaviors if I didn’t buy her a plane ticket and give her money to get back to her family in Massachusetts.”
“Our relationship ended because she is crazy as fuck. She pushed me. I couldn’t do it anymore,” Jason growls. “It was toxic.”
“I guess you know how to push everyone’s fucking buttons, don’t you, son?”
Jason’s methodical laugh is low and angry. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, fine. But a seven-year-old boy who spilled some fucking milk certainly shouldn’t be considered a button pusher, old man.”
“You never listened,” he spits at Jason.
“Tell yourself whatever the fuck you need to. Over the years, I took your beatings for doing fucking nothing. Make sure you know, if you ever raise a finger to me again, I will snap your fucking neck.”
“Your threats don’t scare me, son.”
“Good, ’cause I’m not threatening. That’s a fucking promise. Now get out.”
“I paid for your whore’s silence and to get home. I won’t do it again. Whoever the whore in the bathroom is better never find out who you are, or so help me God—”
“Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t ever talk about her like that. She’s no fucking whore.”
“Someone from work, Jason?” he snaps. “Not smart.”
“No, her name is Lorraine Bosch. Does that ring a bell? You know the name.”
There is poignant silence. “Jason, what the hell are you thinking? The girl is messed up. Do you have any idea—”
“She’s been through hell, but so have I, haven’t I, Dad? Don’t you worry about me or about her; both of us are more fucking normal than you.”
I fall back against the wall and cover my mouth. Jason is the mayor’s son. Oh my God, he is Jason Stanley.
Chapter Fourteen
Fuck! Missy and her bullshit brought my dad here.
His eyes told me all I need to know about his past with Lorraine’s family. He knows something, which means her following the people she is following is dangerous. Her being involved in anything surrounding my father does not sit well with me. I have work to do.
First, I have to make sure Missy is on a plane and gone for good. Calling the front desk to my building, I am informed of her departure and the key left behind for me. She also asked to be removed from the complex owner association papers, and as long as I sign off on it, then it’s a done deal. Well, as much as I want to bitch at her for blackmailing my father into a plane ticket, I am just happy to have her gone. She needs a fresh start, and I need to breathe without worrying about her showing up somewhere to shoot me or stab me.
After looking around at my meager belongings thrown around the hotel, I gather them up and into my bag. Once that’s done, I look at the bathroom door and can’t help wondering what is taking Lo so long.
I go to the door and listen.
Silence.
I knock. “Lo, you okay in there?”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice sounding weak. “I, um . . .” She pauses. “I heard voices. I didn’t know if your company left.”
Shit, she heard my father here. Does she know who he is? Does she know something he’s hiding? Was he involved in her family’s murder? It wouldn’t surprise me. The thought alone has me needing to break something, though.
I step back as she makes her way out of the bathroom and over to the bed. Every time I tell myself I am walking away, I get drawn back in. With everything between us, I can’t stop myself from wanting her, from feeling things for her I’ve never felt before. She wrings her hands together nervously, wearing one of my T-shirts and boxers, all of it swallowing her completely. She avoids eye contact, which bothers me, too. One thing I have always done is face things head-on. This is no different.
“Do you know my father?” I ask, wondering if I really want to know the answer.
She bites her bottom lip and nods, looking at me with her blue eyes sparkling with emotions. “I know you.”