AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All I remembered from the night before was meeting with Matt Bellis, sharing a drink with him as we talked about our deal, and then nothing. Until now.
I tried to get up off the bed. However, the pain of a thousand pins and needles piercing my brain made me groan, and I laid back down. As I breathed and calmed down, I managed to check my pockets. But, of course, everything was gone.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember anything else, anything that might be a clue. But nothing came after that drink.
Could I have been drugged?
And if so, why?
Ransom seemed unlikely, given how many people knew I’d gone to meet with Matt. And if he thought this stunt would get me to concede on the finer details of his demands, he had another thing coming.
Then I remembered how last night had been about more than a deal with Bellis.
Katie. Where was she? Had they taken her too? Was she okay?
And if they hadn’t snatched her, was she worried? Or, worse, thought I’d left her to fend for herself among the wolves?
I needed to get out of here, stat. If only I could stop the ache in my head and stand up.
Something was slipped under my door, and I craned my neck. It was a stack of papers, but I couldn’t read what they said from the bed.
Which meant I needed to get my ass up and see what they were. Because until I had more information, I couldn’t plan shit.
Gritting my teeth, I sat up, inch by inch, until I was upright. By then, I was sweating, my heart thudded, and I was far too weak.
Fucking hell. I must’ve been drugged.
It took far too long, but I eventually stood and wobbled over to the door. A quick check proved what I suspected—it was locked.
While supporting myself with the wall, I picked up the small stack and made it back to the bed. Only once I was sitting again did I glance down at the papers. They were articles printed from the internet. I read the first headline:
Slap Heard Round the World: Small-town Girl Attacks Wendy Webster
Frowning, I scanned the article. It was obvious whoever wrote it idolized Wendy and portrayed Katie as some money-grubbing, violent, unstable woman jealous of Hollywood’s darling couple.
It took everything I had not to crumple the paper. How the fuck could people still think Wendy and I were a thing? I knew people could be delusional, but this was a whole different level of fucked up.
I kept reading and reached a section that made my stomach drop:
At last night’s charity event, Wendy revealed Nolan’s elaborate plan to make her jealous, one that involved hiring Katie Evans to act as his fake fiancée. Now that the gig is up, will Nolan finally be truthful and declare his undying love for Wendy Webster?
All I could think about was Katie, alone among people she mostly didn’t know, having to suffer Wendy’s lies. I wanted to cheer for Katie standing up to Wendy and slapping her, but I was too worried about the aftermath.
I knew just how brutal the internet and social media could be. And Katie most definitely didn’t deserve that kind of hell.
Which would be all the worse since I hadn’t been there to support her. And now? There was no way to reach her, either. Not while I was stuck in this room.
However, I would get out and do everything within my power to help her. Just as soon as I had a plan.
But first, I needed to know as much as possible about the night before. Then I could maybe use the story or facts to my advantage.
So I scanned the rest of the papers. Some were posts by Wendy, some by mutual acquaintances who said they knew all along I couldn’t have fallen for the small-town girl when the hottest female actor in the world loved me.
And then I came across a picture—one of Katie standing outside a hotel at night, her expression sad and broken and lost.
Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I traced her cheek, wishing I could’ve been there.
I crumpled the papers and threw them across the room with a roar. My woman was hurting, and people needed to pay for it.
