Page 99 of Drop Shot
“No comment,” I bite out, and sidestep her and the camera man.
They continue to follow me, and I’m not sure why. I’m stubborn as hell and I’m not giving up information on my sister and Whimsy to satisfy some kind of weird curiosity.
“Reports are saying that you arrived in time to intervene. Can you at least confirm or deny that?
If it were only prick-ass Keaton involved I’d throw him under the bus gladly, but it’s not my place to talk about Whimsy and Ebba’s trauma from last night.
I ignore them all the way until I finally get into the car to take me back to the hotel. As soon as I’m seated, I pull out my phone and Google my name.
Articles pop up from less than thirty minutes ago, detailing that there was an attack on Whimsy and Ebba with Keaton’s name attached.
No wonder that journalist was so persistent. She wanted to be the first to get a direct quote.
I’m not sure how the information could’ve gotten out there though. It’s not like?—
Jackson.
Fucking Jackson.
It has to be. I don’t know who else would’ve gone to the press. I know there’s zero chance Ebba or Whimsy called them up. I can’t even get them to talk about it with me. Fisher didn’t know until just now. I’m honestly surprised he hadn’t seen the news yet. So that leaves one person considering the fact that Keaton is still currently in custody.
The car pulls up to drop me off and I storm into the hotel—a man on a mission. I check the bar first. No Jackson. I can only hope he’s in his room.
After charming one of the front desk ladies, I make my way to his room. She wouldn’t give me a key, but at least she gave me the room number.
I bang the palm of my hand repeatedly against the door.
“If you’re in there you better open up you motherfucker. Don’t fucking ignore me.”
The door opens and I grab a stunned Jackson by his collar as I step into his room. I slam his back into the wall. I’m grateful to be so much taller than him since it allows me to glare down at him.
“What did you do?” I give him a shake. “You leaked that didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Him playing dumb only serves to piss me off further.
“It’s all over the internet about my sister and Whimsy. The only person that knew besides me and the bastard who committed the crime wasyou. I called you for help with the room because I thought I could trust you!”
God, I’m worked up now. I’m pissed and frankly hurt. Not that I think Jackson is my best friend or anything, but I thought I could trust him not to spew private business for a quick buck.
“It made you look good! The hero swooping in to save his sister and girlfriend. I did it for you!” he yells back. Despite his bravado there’s fear in his eyes.
“No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t do this for me. You did it for yourself.” I grind my teeth together. “Their trauma is not my free publicity.” I give him a shake. “Do you hear me?”
He nods.
“Say it!” A little of my spit lands on his cheek. Oops. I’m sorry but not sorry enough to apologize out loud. Especially when he hasn’t.
“I hear you,” he replies. “Will you let me go now?”
I narrow my eyes on him and give him another shake before I drop him. I point a finger at him in warning. “Fuck you.”
Swinging the door open, I let it slam shut behind me. I gather my stuff up from where I dropped it outside his room.
Jackson might think he’s in charge around here—but he needs to remember that I’m the reason he gets paid, and it would be all too easy to fire him.
CHAPTER 33
