I looked around for Cathy but didn’t see her anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I walked toward the bar. If nothing else I could order a soda or bottled water until she showed back up. My phone vibrated in the tiny purse I was carrying and I pulled it out, thinking it might be her.
“Where are you?”
“Sam?” Patricia’s voice made me freeze in place.
“Hey. It’s me. I’m sorry I thought you were someone else.” I put a finger in my other ear. “Are you okay?”
“Can you talk?” She sounded tired.
“Hold on.” I looked around for somewhere quiet but didn’t see anything. Becca wasn’t standing at the stairs, so couldn’t ask her either. I took the steps down and found a bathroom where the music was much more muted. “I can hear you now. What’s wrong?”
“It’s your dad, sweetheart.” I knew it was bad for her to be calling me, but my heart still stopped.
“What’s happened?” My throat tightened. “Is he—”
“No! No, but it’s not good.” I could hear the strain in her voice. “It’s worse than we knew.”
“I don’t understand. Where is he?” Panic filled my chest and I saw one of the girls look at me in the mirror.
“Sam, I didn’t know it was this bad. He never let us go in with him to the appointments, remember?” Her voice choked up and she took a minute before continuing. “He’s at the hospital. I couldn’t wake him up.”
“He’s dying?” My voice came out on a sob and I covered my mouth with my free hand. I was standing in the bathroom at a club while my father was dying in a hospital.
“Yes, baby. I think he knew but didn’t want us to worry.”
“He knew and didn’t tell us?” I whispered the words. “Why would he do that?”
“I can only guess he didn’t want us to spend all our time focused on him.”
“I’m coming. I’ll have to get a flight, but I’ll leave as soon as I can.” I dragged the back of my hand across my nose and the girl that had looked at me handed me some tissue. I mumbled a thank-you as she left but wasn’t really paying attention. I needed to go.
“Okay.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, Patricia. I’ll call you soon.” I hung up the phone and took a couple of deep breaths. It didn’t help. The tears running down my cheeks wouldn’t stop. How had I not known it was this bad? Why did I leave him?
I turned on the sink and splashed water over my face. I needed to get out of here—needed to get to the airport. Rubbing my shaking, wet hands on my dress, I left the bathroom and shoved my way through the crowd. Someone elbowed me and I tripped but got right back up and kept going. The bouncer at the door said something, but I didn’t hear him. There was too much noise in the club. Too much noise in my head.
I practically fell out the door and into the line of people waiting outside. Our car was gone of course, so I looked for a cab. Reporters had gathered outside, the bright flashes of their cameras blinding me as I tried to decide which way to go.
“Samantha! Duchess Rousseau!”
“Rousseau! Look here!”
“Are you upset? Did someone do something?”
“Samantha!”
“Where’s Alex?”
“Where’s Cathy?”
“What happened?”
“Look here!”
“Sam!”
I shoved through the people and tried to put some distance between myself and the reporters, but they kept pace. One of them reached out and grabbed my shoulder. I shrugged him off and kept walking. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. The farther I got from the club, the more my fear fed my anger.
“Tell us what happened!”
“Leave me alone!” I glared at the reporters, but they continued to snap pictures, not caring how upset I was.
“Why are you crying?”
“Samantha! Sam!”
The guy who had grabbed my shoulder reached out and tugged on my purse while pointing a camera in my face. Something inside of me snapped and fury raced down my spine. Turning around, I shoved the camera out of his hand and kicked him in the nuts as hard as I could. He went down with a groan and I turned back around and started walking away. My entire body was shaking and I couldn’t stop.