The Paid Girlfriend

Chapter Twenty Eight

"The Kelley's are a sloppy bunch," Robert shrugged. "I prove that Jackson's been cheating and his wife will squeal like a pig. Sing like a canary. Preach like a-"

"Okay, I get it Robert," I muttered, wishing I was home, Sabrina by my side awake and healthy, not a scratch on her flawless form. I didn't have time for this bullshit.

"Bottom line, I got this. All I need you to do is walk into your office tomorrow morning, say a few words and then you can get on with your life...unless you wanted to share a few words with Ms. Kelley before we ruined her life?"

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"Come oooon, I want to dance!" Britney whined, struggling half-heartedly with the ropes tying her hands and feet to the arm chair. She wore a short, skin-tight dress that looked like it was suffocating her, her feet bare. She was a mess, makeup smeared across her face and her hair a tangled knot. She looked like a train wreck and I wanted to add to the destruction that was her face.

Robert's men were scattered around the small room, ignoring the intoxicated girl as they worked on their computers and such. Only one looked up and I rolled my eyes at the familiar face that was Paul Bucket. He grinned when he saw me standing in the doorway.

"Well if it ain't the man who chases trouble," Paul crowed, slapping his knee at his own joke and standing up to greet me. "You sure know how to pick 'em Collins."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you too Paul."

"It better be. Ya here to see the girl? She's puked about two times already and still drunk." Paul shook his head. "Won't last a day in jail."

"I couldn't careless right now," I murmured, narrowing my eyes at Chicago's newest criminal. "I bet she doesn't either."

"Just don't hurt her yet. We need not a scratch on her body for this plan to work," Paul warned me, sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it up.

I ignored him, striding towards the dumb blonde that almost cost Sabrina's life and kneeling in front of her. Her eyes with her half closed and it seemed she didn't recognize me. Shame. I grabbed a fist of her filthy blonde hair in my hand and cocked her head back, earning a gasp from her.

"Listen here you dirty bitch, I'm tired, I haven't had a shower in nearly a entire day and my girlfriend is in a hospital bed, broken and bruised. If it were up to me, you'll be buried alive in some fucking desert but my men here have better plans for you. I won't waste my breath because I'm sure you're knocked up on whateverthefuck you snorted earlier and won't remember this in the morning but keep in mind I'm about to ruin your life for good." I released her hair and stood up, brushing invisible dirt off my knees.

I watched as Britney's head stayed snapped back, and then seconds later a loud snore sounded in the room. I shook my head in disgust, straightening my jacket up.

"I'm done here. Good luck fellas," I murmured before stepping out the motel room. I left Robert at the hospital to keep Sabrina company though I was sure I would find him knocked out in one of the guest chairs.

The drive to the hospital was filled with silence since I didn't bother to turn on the radio. In fact, all day I felt like I was dreaming, that I would wake up with Sabrina's elbow shoved into my stomach and my alarm clock blaring in my ear.

I heaved a sigh and jumped out of my car after I parked it, tugging at my hair out of frustration.

The trip up to Sabrina's room was mundane and all I wanted to do was grab a pillow and fall asleep in one of uncomfortable chairs the hospital provided. When I opened the door I expected to find Robert sprawled out in one of the chairs, but instead I found the room empty and Sabrina attempting to sit up.