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“Vaughan, put Aiden back on please. I need his help.”

God, could something just go right?

“What happened?”

“Just…” I breathed out. “I need Aiden. Please.”

“Where are you?”

I heard keys, some more muffled voices, music. Were they at a party?

“Tell me where you are, Makenzie.”

I sucked in a breath at the sound of my full name, and the demanding way in which Vaughan said it. His tone brooked no argument, and I found myself relenting. My shoulders sagged, and I fell on to the sofa.

“I’m at the Sheraton.”

“I’m on my way.”

He ended the call before I could tell him that I wanted Aiden to come get me. Somehow I don’t think Aiden had a say, and apparently I didn’t either. Why did I feel like this was a bad idea?