Hunter watched helplessly as the Material Girl slipped away from him, disappearing inside a three-story brownstone.
“This better be good,” he growled to his ex on the phone. He tapped Paul on the shoulder and asked him to wait a minute, and they idled at the curb.
“Please come,” she sobbed, sounding near frantic.
Instantly he was on full alert. This didn’t sound like nothing. Tamara was a drama queen, but something in her voice told him that this wasn’t the normal drama. “What’s going on?”
“Hunter…help!” shrieked Tamara. “I’m locked in the bathroom. Baker is messed up and…c-crazy. He won’t let me leave.”
“Did you call the police?” Hunter demanded.
“No—can’t. You know why.”
Hunter sighed. Her father was the assistant police chief, and they hadn’t spoken in three years, not since the big fallout over her choice to drop out of college. And now she was letting a petty family squabble get in the way of her safety. That was Tamara in a nutshell: cutting off her nose to spite her face.
“Hang up and call the police.”
“I can’t… And my phone…it’s dying… We’re at my place… Please!”
He heard a roar then, the sound of a man yelling—Vin, most likely. Tamara shrieked and then the line went dead.