Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Williams! Wake the hell up.” I hear Caleb say through the door. He sounds mad, even upset, and that’s when panic begins to take root.
Joey.
I couldn’t reach her last night. What if something happened?
“I’m coming!” I call back as I scramble out of bed and to the door. Pulling it open, I step back to prevent being run over by a fuming Caleb as he enters the room uninvited. “What’s going on? Is it Joey? Is she okay?” I’m suddenly wide awake as worry grips my chest. I should have tried harder to get a hold of her last night. “Tell me.” It’s a demand.
“It’s Joey, but not how you think. Physically, she’s fine. Mentally, I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair, which already looks like he’s made that exact move a hundred times this morning.
“Explain.”
“It’s easier to show you.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, and his fingers fly across the screen. My stomach drops because I know I’m not going to like whatever it is that he’s about to show me. “Here.” He thrusts his phone in my face.
Taking a deep breath, I look down at his phone and cringe. It’s a picture of Lucinda and me in the hotel lobby. I’m looking down at her, with my hands on her shoulders, and she’s staring up at me. It looks intimate, but it wasn’t.
“Son of a bitch,” I seethe. “How in the fuck do they hide where we can’t see them? This isn’t at all what happened,” I rant as I read the headline.
RAMBLERS TIGHT END DATING MOTHER-DAUGHTER DUO
“What the fuck?” I look up at Caleb. “Has she seen this shit?” I ask him. I silently beg him to tell me no.
“I don’t know, but she probably has by now. I got woke up from a raging phone call from our dad. He’s pissed as hell. Fuck, man, he was going on about you not being good enough for his daughter and how a tiger doesn’t change its stripes or some shit. He even dropped the word trade in there. He might not be able to make the trade, but he has the influence on the team to make it happen. This is bad, Brock. Real fucking bad.”
“You were there,” I say, my voice rising. “You witnessed the entire fucking debacle of a nightmare it was. You can tell them the truth. Call your dad and tell him the truth.”
“I did tell him. He didn’t want to hear it. He said I was defending you because you were my best friend. I’ll try again once he cools down. What you need to worry about is Joey.”
“Fuck!” I roar, placing my hands behind my head as I pace the room. “I tried to call her twice last night, and she didn’t answer. I texted her too,” I say, rushing to the nightstand by the bed to check my phone. Pulling up the message I sent, I see there’s no reply waiting for me. She loves our stories. If she’s seen this, she would have replied. Right?
Dialing her number, it goes straight to voice mail. “Voice mail,” I grit out, calling her again. And again. And again. Each time I get her voice mail and fear takes over. I’m split down the middle with fear that something has happened to her, and the other half is scared to fucking death. She’s going to see this before I get a chance to talk to her and think that what she’s reading is real. I’ve never been more scared in my entire life as I am in this moment. Either side of the fear that I’m facing could mean that I lose her, and I’m not okay with that. I’m not me without her.
I call her again. “Joey, it’s me. Baby, I need you to call me as soon as you get this. Please, Sunshine. I need to talk to you. Call me, please,” I say, tossing my phone on the bed. “What the fuck do I do?” I ask Caleb. “I can’t lose her, man. I can’t.” I shake my head as the thought of her ending what we have has my stomach rolling.
“There’s nothing we can do but keep trying.”
“You call her.” I point to his phone in his hand. He nods and dials her number. “Hey, Joey. It’s me. I’m with Brock, and we’re worried about you, and we need to talk to you. Call one of us back as soon as you can. Love you, sis.”
I have to fix this. I need that fucking article axed. Immediately. Reaching for my phone again, I pull up my agent’s name and hit Send.
“Brock?” he asks groggily.
“Miller. We have a problem.” I go on to tell him what’s wrong, and he’s going to get the agency’s publicity team and lawyers on it. That’s the great thing about working with him. His agency offers full service to their clients. He’s basically my one-stop shop, and right now, I need him to earn every fucking penny of the cut he gets from my contract and endorsements.