Page 87 of Madden
“Houston, we have a problem.”
I hold my hands up and wave them. “No, you don’t. I swear you don’t.”
His eyes drag down my body, and it dawns on me I’m dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and one of my tank top halters, showing off my stomach. I pull my cardigan around me, attempting to cover myself up.
“Hanna’s gonna have a field day when she sees this.”
I swallow hard.
“I swear, I won’t tell anyone you’re here. I promise.”
“Like fuckin’ hell you won’t. I don’t believe a word this dumb bitch says,” a sweet voice replies from behind me, and my body steels itself. “Well, if it isn’t fuckin’ blondie who waltzed in here and fucked everything up.”
I shake my head, looking between her and back over to the man.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I can assure you I never meant to interfere between you and Madden. We’re just friends.”
She throws her head back and laughs. It’s maniacal and terrifying, sending a shiver down my spine.
She’s standing near the stove in the kitchen and turns as if she’s going to walk out of the room to leave when she leans over across the counter and pulls out one of the knives from the butcherblock.
“You think I’m supposed to believe a damn word that comes out of your mouth?” she asks, waving the knife between the two of us and laughing again.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Hanna. Will you calm the hell down? This isn’t what we talked about. Put the knife away.” The frantic guy charges toward her. “You’re fuckin’ pregnant. The last thing you need to do is go after her wielding a goddamn knife.”
“Hanna, I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I promise you I’m not trying to get between you and Madden,” I lie. The words are all lies.
I’ll tell her whatever she wants to hear if it means I get out of here alive, and right now, I don’t trust her to ensure it’ll happen.
“Whatever it is you’re looking for, whatever you want, you can have it. Okay? You need money? I’ll write you a check right now.”
She cackles. “You think you can give me what I want?”
She has no idea how much money I have in the bank, which is unfortunate for me, because if she did, she probably wouldn’t be reacting that way.
If she doesn’t want money, though, what does she want?
There has to be something else, some other reason for her to break in here again.
“What is it you want? What are you looking for? Maybe I know and can help you.”
“You think I want your help? You think I want anything from you?”
She charges at me and shoves me against the corner of the granite countertop, and I hunch over, howling in pain.
Madden must hear me on the other end of the line and goes frantic, shouting my name into the phone.
Hanna stops in her tracks, glancing around, picking up on the faint sound of Madden’s voice before her eyes land on my phone where I dropped it on the counter.
“No, no, please,” I beg, trying to stop her.
She reaches for the phone, lifting it to her ear as she stares at me. Her chest heaves, her breathing coming out in heavy pants, as she turns to glare at me.
“You shouldn’t have let the bitch come between us, Madden.” Her cynical voice drops low. “Now, it’s not just you who will take the brunt of it, but it’s her too. It’s too bad you’re nowhere around to help her.”
She laughs again, and the delirious sound will forever be ingrained in my memory.
She smashes the end call button and chucks the phone across the room, shattering the cabinet in the dining room, sending shards of glass clattering onto the floor.