Page 108 of Sin Bin Daddies
Another pause. “Yeah. Just tired. Been a long day.”
I stare at my reflection. The tension in her voice is too familiar. It doesn’t match the words.
“I’m coming home late,” I say. “But maybe I’ll stop by in the morning. We could grab coffee?”
“Sure,” she says, and something claws at the edge of my chest. I know her voice too well by now.
After we hang up, I stare at the phone for a beat too long. Then I make a decision.
I step out of the bathroom and back into the ballroom. Find my parents, still orbiting the mayor and Eleanor.
“I’m leaving.”
My mother blinks. “What?”
“I need to go.”
She narrows her eyes. “Is this about that girl again?”
I glance at the mayor. His brows rise slightly.
Lowering my voice, I lean close. “Someone I care about isn’t okay. I’m checking on her.”
“You don’t even know if something’s wrong,” she hisses back.
“I do.”
My father’s voice cuts through, quiet but commanding. “Asher, don’t make a scene.”
I meet his gaze. “I’m not. I’m just leaving.”
And I do. I walk out into the sticky Miami night, rip the bowtie from my neck, and toss it on the passenger seat as I slide behind the wheel of my Audi and drive.
Every mile between the gala and her apartment drags like molasses. My knee bounces the whole way. The city blurs past in flashes of red and gold.
When I reach our building, I take the elevator. The hallway is quiet. Too quiet.
I knock. It’s not Madeline who opens the door. It’s her brother Henry.
Broad shoulders, military-straight posture, buzzed dark hair, arms inked in black and gray. His eyes pin me to the spot. Same eyes as hers, but colder.
“Hello,” I clear my throat.
“Asher?”
I want to ask how he knows about me, then quickly remember my face is plastered on billboards all over town, and his husband is sometimes at games with Daisy, the local sports journalist.
“I’m here for Maddie,” I say, standing taller.
He doesn’t move. Just studies me like he’s measuring threat levels. Then, without a word, he steps back. “She’s not well. Resting in her room.”
I nod and walk in, my heart caught somewhere in my throat.
He doesn’t follow. Just watches as I head down the hallway, the place dark except for the soft lamp glow under her door.
I knock once, then push it open. She’s in bed, curled up small. Her hair’s a mess, eyes glassy, Sunny tucked at her side. “Madeline?”
Her gaze flicks to mine. Relief flickers there, but it’s buried under something heavier.
