Page 3 of Bloodlust

"But I can," he says, closing the folder in front of him as he looks at Karen and her lawyer. "Court dismissed."

"I told you to let me do the talking," my lawyer grumbles under his breath before leaving me standing alone and bewildered. "Women."

I stare off into the distance, attempting to process what just happened. Mandatory anger management? Mandatory? Hah. If Fred thinks he can force me to sit in a room with a fucking shrink three times a week, he's more delusional than I thought. No one makes me do anything.

No one.

Luckily for me, wealth is like a get-out-of-jail-free card.

And I have millions of them.

"Cami!" Zoey's melodic voice fills my ears as I feel a hand on my arm. "Hey, Cami? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, sucking in a sharp breath as I hold out my hand for my purse. She places the designer clutch in my palm. I open the bag, pull out a pair of sunglasses, and slide them on my face. "I'm going to use the restroom." I exit through the wooden gate and walk toward the doors, Zoey running behind me. "You have two minutes to find the closest psycho-whatever-the-fuck's office and book me an appointment for 9 a.m."

"But it's almost 9 a.m. now," she says, pulling out her cell phone as my bodyguards discreetly follow us. "I don't think?—"

"Make it happen," I state, stopping in front of the ladies' room. "And bring me my checkbook."

"Okay," she peeps. "I'll try."

"Don't try," I say, entering the restroom. "Just do."

The lighting here is atrocious. I scan the bags under my eyes before pulling out under-eye cream and a tube of red lipstick, hoping it livens me up. It's too fucking early to deal with all these Neanderthals. I shouldn't have gone so hard last night at Suffer N' Rage, but it's a rarity for Javier and Kody to be working on the same night. I keep telling them I'm willing to make them full-time dancers, but apparently getting A's at NYU is more important to them than getting me off.

Warped priorities, in my humble opinion. What can a degree give them that I can't?

With a final glance in the mirror, I exit the restroom. "Cigarette." I hold out my hand to Frankie, my lifelongguard. He casts me a judgmental frown. I shake my hand, reaffirming my decision. "I'm waiting."

"Cami," he sighs, pulling a pack out of the breast pocket of his jacket. "You're too young to smoke, princess. Ain't the patch working?"

"Clearly not." I yank a smoke from the pack as Zoey comes charging toward me. "So?"

"Okay, well—" she scrolls her phone, "—I called a few offices, and no one is available right now, but I did get the number to a practice that recently opened a couple of blocks from here, and they have an opening at 10 a.m." She squints, reading the name. "A Dr. Hayden Malcolm."

"I'm not waiting until ten.” I walk out of the courthouse and light the smoke. God, it’s so embarrassing that I'm even in here. Never again. "They'll make time for me now." A warm breeze hits my skin as we step outside. "Well? Which way?"

"Left." Zoey lets out a tiny sigh, pointing down the street. "Are you sure you want to barge in, Cam? I mean, after what happened today, shouldn't you?—"

I snap my head down at her, my expression cold. "I appreciate the concern, Zoe, I really do, but I can handle this, okay?"

"Fine," she says with a shrug, biting her bottom lip. "I just don't think you need more stress added to your day."

"I'm not stressed," I state, heels clicking against the sidewalk as we make our way to the head doctor's office. I take a long drag of the smoke, relishing the instant relief. "Frustrated, maybe, but not stressed. Can youbelieve that happened, Zoe? It's like the people in this city have lost their minds. Truly."

"Maybe you shouldn't have thrown makeup at the counter lady," Zoey mumbles.

I roll my eyes. "She said I had oily skin. Her fault."

"Right," Zoey hums, her phone vibrating. "Oh, shit."

"What?" I glance down, the message skewed by the sunlight. "What is it?"

"He's back in town." Zoey sheepishly looks up at me. "My brother's back in New York."

I stop walking. "Leonardo...is back?" My teeth slam against one another. I was a fool to think he wouldn't return. It's been five years, and he shows up now? "What does he want?"

Zoey gives me a knowing head tilt. "What do you think?"