Page 21 of Full Out Fiend

I was in the bathroom for less than ten minutes.

She couldn’t have gotten far.

I snatch my pants off the ground and pull them up haphazardly as I hop from one foot to the other. I dig my phone out of the pocket and pull up the security feeds for the house.

Bullseye.

She’s striding up the driveway with her phone glued to her ear. She’s very clearly trying to get away.

I sprint out of my room and down the corridor of my wing of the house, silently cursing that it’s one of the farther points from the garage.

I glance back down at my device as I reach the kitchen. She’s approaching the gate. I’m never going to make it. I can do nothing but watch in horror as it swings open automatically to let her through.

I’m not even to the garage when a car pulls up. Then she climbs in, and she’s gone.

Chapter 13

Daphne

Ipressthephoneto my ear as I approach the wrought-iron gate at the end of the driveway. I think I remember the passcode from last night—earlier tonight, I guess—but miraculously, I don’t need it; the gates swing open on their own.

“Did you get the pin I sent?”

I exhale when she confirms she’s only two minutes away.

“Okay, good. I need to turn my phone off now.”

I end the call and power down my device without saying goodbye.

This is a literal nightmare. I would rather close my eyes and dive back into a lucid, never-ending dream about my own pathetic relationship than have to endure this.

The worst part of it all? I knew better. I freaking knew better.

But after that third orgasm… and the way he kissed me and held me in his arms… I was delirious. Drunk on lust. Incapacitated, reveling in a satisfied, blissed-out state.

I rose out of bed automatically. My feet moved across the room of their own volition. I found my dress, dug the phone out of my pocket, and powered it on without thinking.

As soon as it came to life, a shrill tone blared through the speaker, like an alarm jettisoning me back to reality.

It took several seconds of staring, dumbfounded, for me to realize what was happening. Someone had initiated the lost phone technology and was pinging the location of my device.

In an instant, a flurry of texts and missed calls filled the screen. The notifications came in faster than I could read them.

I stood there, naked, trying to make sense of it all.

I clicked open the thread of messages from Serena—I knew I could count on her to help me navigate this—as the phone pinged almost nonstop in my hand. A quick scan of her dozen or so texts clued me in that I needed to get out of Fielding’s house ASAP.

Anthony’s very drunk cousin—and my bridesmaid—Melissa, didn’t believe Serena when she said I headed home for the night. Rather than being cool about it, Melissa worked the whole damn bridal party into a tizzy, saying I ran off or had been taken or something.

By the time they left the bar, not only had Melissa called my parents, but my parents had tried to call me, and then somehow, miraculously, someone had gotten a hold of Anthony.

Anthony, who supposedly turned his phone off to sleep with a hooker.

Anthony, my ex-fiancé who doesn’t know he’s my ex-fiancé yet.

Serena tried to do damage control.

But Anthony blew a gasket. And pinged my phone, apparently.