Page 45 of Could Be Worse

“Must be love!” Connie shouted as she got into her car and slammed the door.

Maybe it was love…

15

Sadie

I stumbled into my bedroom, tipsy and horny. No man had affected me the way Bryce had. It had taken everything in me not to call or text him throughout the day. Patience hadn’t been my strong point. I wanted what I wanted, which made waiting for him to reach out to me so maddening.

I missed him and the girls more than I imagined. Never had I believed I would be one of the few who fell in love so fast. But I’d heard stories about some couples in the club.

The night Sugar had met her first husband, the original president of the Minnesota chapter, they’d had sex within minutes of meeting. Matt had claimed Sugar as his and had taken her to the clubhouse. Matt Knight had been the love of her life, but it had been cut short when he’d gotten cancer. It’d taken years of mourning before Sugar had found love for a second time with Art Panek, a member of KLMC, and the owner of Human Canvas Tattoo Parlor.

My own parents had fallen in love quickly, within weeks. It wasn’t impossible to fall in love overnight, if two people were perfect for each other, but it scared me.

What if I couldn’t give them what they needed and deserved? What if Connie made our lives hell? I’d felt her hatred for me. What if I couldn’t deal with her being in my life?

But more than anything else, what about my ballet career? Should I give it up for love?

I collapsed on my bed with a graceful thump. It was after ten in the evening. The only thing keeping me semi-sane was knowing I’d get to see Bryce and the girls tomorrow.

My phone buzzed when a notification came in. I opened it, assuming it was Bryce. There were two messages. The newest one was a number I didn’t recognize. The other was from Bryce. I opened his first since he’d sent it hours ago.

Bryce: Call you after I put the girls to bed.

I wondered why he hadn’t called. Hopefully everything was okay. Nervously, I opened the other message.

Unknown: Good girl leaving NYC. Now I want 5 million.

Five million dollars! They were obviously crazy. I read the message again, just in case the alcohol I’d had was messing with my vision, but the words didn’t change.

It had to be the blackmailer. How did they get my number?

I wouldn’t reply. I could hear my dad saying, Don’t engage. But I had to do something before this lunatic hurt someone, like my mom, me, or Bryce and his girls.

“Sadie?” My dad knocked on my bedroom door, and my heart seized. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” I waved him in, though he couldn’t see me.

“Phew.” He fanned his hand in front of his face. “How many shots of tequila did you do? The smell is seeping out of your pores.”

“Four shots. Or maybe it was five.” I held my hand up in the air. “Or six.”

“Either way, it was one too many. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sleep is what you need.” He turned to leave.

“Wait! What did you want to talk about?” I didn’t feel my mouth move, but heard my voice. Weird. Maybe I had had one too many shots.

But hey, I’d been missing Bryce. Angsty country music had been playing in the clubhouse’s bar. Drunkenness had been inevitable when bikers were fooling around with kittens, getting hot and heavy in front of me.

I had to drink to numb my desires, except it hadn’t worked. If my dad hadn’t knocked on my door, I might have called Bryce and begged him to relieve the ache between my thighs with his tongue.

“Sleep, peanut. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Daaad, pleeease.” I whined like a child and stood up, then wobbled on my feet as the room swayed. “I, I’m fine. Promise.” Wasn’t there something I wanted to tell him? My mind was chaotic, but I thought something important had come up.

He snorted. “Sure, you are. But okay. You probably won’t remember tomorrow.”

“Not nice, Dad.” I scowled at him. He was wrong. I would remember because I wasn’t that drunk. I’d gotten home, right?