A Scandalous Job

Chapter Thirty-Two

The phone rang three times before she picked up. At the sound of her voice, I almost broke down and let the water works start. I hadn't talked to my mom in weeks and I knew that she was worried about me.

"Piper?" she asked, hesitant. Her voice sounded weaker—raspier. I knew that it had to do with her cancer treatments.

"Yeah, mom. It's me."

"Oh, Piper." Now it sounded as if she was the one holding back tears. "What's going on with you? I saw the news. I know that you were the girl in Chance's arms."

My heart sunk. I was going to tell her all about my job, but not now. I didn't want to burden her with such a heavy weight, especially when she was so sick.

"Mom, I promise you that I'm okay. I can't explain anything right now, especially over the phone, but just know that I am safe."

"Don't lie to me, Piper. Chance is a killer. I saw the video of him shooting the man on the news. She sounded pissed. It made me wonder how many times she had watched the news or read the articles about us.

"Yes, he is, mom," I replied quietly. "But he only killed that man to protect me."

My mom was silent on the other end. "Do you think that you are doing the right thing?"

I paused. Was I? At first, I wasn't, but now taking Miguel out seemed like it would save more lives than it took.

"Yeah mom, I do think that I'm doing the right thing."

After that, we chatted on the phone for almost an hour. We avoided the topic of Chance entirely. I asked how my mom was doing (not good), but she told me that an anonymous donor had paid for all of chemo treatments.

My mom had no idea who the donator was, but I knew that it was Chance. He made a promise with me to pay her medical bills if I agreed to work for him, and Chance Burke never broke his promises.

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I had just hung up the phone when Chance swarmed into the bedroom. His eyes were livid and jaw taut with anger.

"What did you do?" he asked in a menacing voice.

My eyes widened. I hadn't seen Chance this mad in a very long time. "What are you talking about?"

Chance didn't answer my question. Instead, he ripped his Blackberry out of my hands and scrolled through the list of recent calls.

"What are you looking for?"

Chance's eyes snapped to mine. His hands shot out and gripped my shoulders, almost painfully. "Did you call the police?"

"What? No!" Chance studied my face for split second, before concluding that I was telling the truth.