Wagner was my go-to guy, a fixer, the kind of guy you go to when the usual methods just don’t work out. I’d had him dig up dirt on my competitors, bribe corrupt city officials or blackmail them when they tried to extort me, and most importantly, get me evidence that my ex-wife had been cheating on me.
“What is it?”
“It’s Laura, sir,” he replied. The ol’ ball and chain.
“What’s she done now?”
“I just had a call from my guy at the hospital,” Wagner replied. “They said Laura was brought in on a suicide attempt and says she won’t speak to anyone but you.”
“Fucking shit,” I growled, rubbing my forehead.
This wasn’t real. I knew it instantly. Laura had pulled this kind of shit before when we were together, and twice after I caught her cheating on me. It was an obvious, desperate attempt to get me to stay with her so she could leave me on her terms and get money out of me during a divorce.
But even if it wasn’t real, I had to go to the hospital. If I didn’t, this would just snowball into something even more out of control and would probably end up in the tabloids too.
Laura was the definition of crazy. She’d roped me in by acting normal—turns out she was a total sociopath. I should have seen it earlier, but catching her in the act of cheating made ending our marriage a lot easier for me.
“Has the press gotten word yet?”
“Not yet,” Wagner replied. “My guy recognized her and checked her in under a different name. But I’m not sure how long we can keep it a secret. Someone’s going to see her and make a phone call.”
“All right, I’m on my way,” I replied.
“I pulled the Porsche up out front,” Wagner said, tossing me the keys. “Faster than the Bentley.”
“Thanks, Wagner,” I said as I threw on my leather jacket. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen—even the caviar.”
Wagner smiled and nodded as I headed out the door. My sea-green Singer 911 was right out from, and I hopped in and gunned it out the gate and headed for the hospital.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
I was right there! I had my goddess with her legs spread and her juicy pussy dripping all over my tongue. She was about to come too, I know it. And then this shit happens?
Thankfully, my anger was suppressing my horniness and the fat boner I had between my legs was starting to go down. I didn’t need to be walking around the hospital looking like a stud about to step onto a porn set.
The 500-horse engine roared as I tore through the Hamptons night, wishing I’d never met Laura to begin with, and by the time I reached the hospital I was ready to rip someone’s head off.
I parked and took deep breaths of the cool evening air as I made my way through the sliding doors of the emergency room where I was immediately greeted by Pete, Wagner’s guy.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s fine,” he replied. “Obvious attention-seeking maneuver. Didn’t even take enough pills to kill a toddler, but she’s saying she’ll go home and try it again if she doesn’t talk to you. Says she’ll go to the press.”
“Fuck,” I growled as he led me into the back. I tried to keep my head down so the nurses wouldn’t recognize me.
“I guess you blocked her calls?” Pete asked.
“Had to,” I replied. “Where is she?”
“This way. I gave her a private room.”
Pete led me to an out-of-the-way room with the blinds drawn and I stepped inside to find Laura lying in a hospital bed looking like she’d just woken up from a nice nap.
“Do you want me to stay?” Pete whispered.
“I got it, Pete,” I replied.
“Thank you, sir,” Pete said before exiting. The door closed behind him and Laura smiled at me with that fake smile she’d perfected and I felt my rage boiling up inside me like I was Wolverine or something.