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Behind him, Claire squealed unhappily.
“Try,” Vince snapped. Today had been the most trying day he had experienced in a long time. All he wanted was for Kate to spit it out.
“It’s Lorelei. She’s … in trouble.”
Vince’s throat tightened. “What kind of trouble?”
“It’s bad, Vince. I have a video to send you. I can’t explain it.”
“Send it,” Vince snapped. “Now.” He hung up the phone and instantly began rushing around the hotel room, packing up his belongings.
Claire watched him, her arms still folded across her chest. “Why was my mom calling you?” Claire asked, sounding like a snotty, spoiled brat.
Vince didn’t bother to stop packing. He yanked the suitcase from the walk-in closet by the front door and began stuffing his clothes inside it. He was in his own little world, ignoring the girls as they tip-toed around him.
A hand cemented itself on his arm, he looked over his shoulder to see Claire behind him. She looked angry.
“What?” Vince snapped.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Claire insisted. “I deserve to know why my mom was calling you!”
“Something’s happened to Lorelei,” Vince said. “Pack up your shit. Both of you.”
Claire scoffed. “You’re joking.”
Vince felt the rage burning in his stomach. He dropped the clothes he was holding and turned to Claire. “You’re starting to piss me off. You do what I say and you do it now. Go and pack up your shit.”
Something in his voice must have signaled to her that he was dead serious. She withered away from him and began to pack things into her own case. Meanwhile, Paige left quietly. Vince guessed she was going back to her hotel room to collect her things, but he had no way of knowing. He didn’t really care.
In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it and unlocked it. He couldn’t open the video quick enough, his hands shaking as he waited for it to load. A picture appeared, covering the whole screen. It was a dimly lit place, covered in metal and harsh, bright-white lights. A line of women stood in the middle of the room, naked.
Vince brought the phone closer to his face, inspecting the picture. He saw a familiar-looking blonde woman standing among the line of women. He zoomed in, focusing on that woman.
He pulled the phone away in disgust. It was Lorelei standing there, naked. He almost didn’t recognize her at first. They had bleached her hair so bright it was almost white. “Jesus,” Vince sighed. He wasn’t sure what else to say, or what to do.
I need to get home, he thought.
He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and went back to packing. The need to rush was real. All he could think about was Lorelei. He had no idea what was happening to her, but it didn’t look good.
Once his case was packed, he looked expectantly at Claire. She was standing at the end of the bed, still putting things away. He felt his blood boiling as he watched her. It’s all my fault, he thought. If I hadn’t brought these fucking teenage sluts here with me, I’d have been home by now. Maybe Lorelei wouldn’t be in trouble. There was no point handing out blame—no one was to blame—but he just couldn’t help it. His wife was in trouble and he wasn’t there to help her.
“Are you done yet?” Vince spat.
Claire whirled around, staring at him over her shoulder.
“Well?” Vince asked.
“You can see I’m still packing,” Claire groaned. “Don’t rush me, Daddy. I’ll forget something.”
“Like I give a fuck,” Vince hollered. “Hurry it up!”
Claire started to blubber again, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as her hands hurried to collect all of her belongings. Vince couldn’t stand being near her. The resentment he felt was overwhelming.
“I don’t know why you care about that old hag,” Claire said, her voice shaking. “She’s no good for you.”
Vince could have sworn he felt his heart explode in his chest. Who did she think she was, speaking about his wife like that? Especially when she was in real, life-threatening danger.
“Excuse me,” Vince said, turning around slowly. “What the fuck did you just say?”
