Page 130 of Daddy’s Obsession


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She leaned back against the headboard, feeling like shit. She wanted to sleep for about a hundred days.

What a mess.

Something suddenly occurred to her.

“Have any of you told Cat what happened?” she asked frantically.

Please tell her that they hadn’t.

“I tried calling her,” Immy whispered. “I left a message.”

Great. Just great.

“She’s going to insist on coming here.” Not that she didn’t want to see her friend. But that was just going to create more issues.

“Tell us what’s going on, Maeve,” Isaiah said quietly.

“Wait, shouldn’t we get Eric here?” Immy asked. “To check her over?”

“I’m fine.”

None of them looked like they believed her.

“I’ll call him,” Jenner said.

Just as he left the room, a phone started ringing. Immy looked at it. “I’m sorry. It’s Cat.”

“It’s all right,” Maeve reassured her.

Immy answered the call. “Hey, Cat, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Where is she? What the fuck happened?” Cat demanded. “I go for one facial and the world goes to shit.”

“Nothing has gone to shit, Cat. I’m fine,” she said tiredly. “Wait, where’s Squish?”

Oh my God! How had she forgotten Squish? If anything happened to him, then she was going to die.

“Didn’t someone get him out of the truck?” Sampson asked.

“I think he’s downstairs,” Isaiah said.

“I’ll get him,” Abe offered, slipping out. He returned quickly, giving the toy to her.

She hugged him tight with a sigh. Thank goodness.

“Maeve! Immy, turn me around,” Cat demanded.

Immy turned her phone with an apologetic grimace. Cat glared down from the screen at her. Then she gasped, sounding upset.

“Maeve, oh my God! What happened? Alejandro! Alejandro! Come here!”

“What? What is it?” Alejandro asked off-camera, sounding frantic.

“Maeve está herido! Necesito que mates a alguien!”

“What? What the fuck!” Alejandro’s face appeared on the screen. “How did you get hurt? And who am I killing?”

Cat was speaking rapidly in Spanish in the background. So fast that Maeve couldn’t keep up. This is why she hadn’t wanted her to know . . . at least not until later, once the bruise wasn’t so bad.

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