Wicked Good (The Billionaire's Fake Finace 3) - Page 7

It was a hard truth to acknowledge, but I had to if I wanted to walk away unbroken.


“But you didn’t say no to me,” Madden replied coolly. “And I believe that our business has reached its natural conclusion now. There is a cashiers check on the table in the foyer,” he said, almost offhandedly. “If you need a reference in the future…”


The businesslike tone of his voice was what did it. I was a transaction to him. That was all it had ever been.


“Fuck you Madden Cross. I hope that the media rips you apart and spits you out like you deserve.” With tears streaming down my face, I turned on my heel and half ran to the spare bedroom where my things were.


I pulled on jeans and an old sweatshirt and stuffed everything else into my bag. I grabbed the new phone Madden had brought to me yesterday and almost threw it against the wall, but decided against it. I’d need it while traveling. Once I got somewhere that I could buy my own, I could pound it into a million pieces.


I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My cheeks were red and my eyes puffy. I was a mess. Even though I hated myself for it, I wanted Madden to come in and tell me he was sorry, that he did care about me. That he didn't want me to go.


But he didn’t and I had no choice but to accept that I truly meant nothing to him.


I pulled my strap over my shoulder and left the room. His bedroom door was closed now. He didn’t even care enough to say goodbye. I raised my middle finger as I walked past and then walked down the stairs with my head held high.


On the stand next to the door was an envelope with my name on it.


My hand shook as I took it and then I left Madden behind along with my heart.


* * *


I drove for three hours south on 95. I had no idea where I was going, I just had to get as much distance between Boston and myself as I could and with a full tank of gas, that would be very far. I had hoped that with each passing mile, the pain would lessen, but the vise grip in my chest only seemed to tighten.


Finally, when I was too mentally drained from bouts of crying and cursing, I got off the exit for Rye, New York and pulled into the parking lot of a Budget Motel. It was only mid afternoon but my eyes hurt and I just wanted to stop for a little while. There were a couple of sketchy looking vending machines by the office, so I grabbed my purse and got out of the car.


There had to be enough change at the bottom to get a granola bar and some water.


Except when I opened my purse, it wasn’t change that I saw. There were several hundred-dollar bills lying on the top of my wallet as if they’d been thrown inside. In a hurry.


Madden must have gone into my purse and left the cash when I was in the bathroom cursing his name.


I wanted to hate what he did. I wrapped my fingers around the bills and crumpled them up, but I couldn’t throw them away. Not when it meant food and gas and a place to sleep that wasn’t a Mini Cooper, until I got to wherever I was going.


As soon as I got settled, just as soon as I had the means, I was going to send every cent back to him. With interest. I didn’t need any favors from that man. I marched inside the motel office and paid for a room without even thinking twice about it. Or him.


At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. In reality, keeping Madden Cross at bay and out of my mind was becoming a full-time job.


I grabbed my bag from the car and opened up room twenty-three. Dirty dark green carpet and a bed that creaked when I sat down on it. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was better than nothing. There was a take out menu on the side table and I ordered a pineapple and ham pizza before I even turned on a light.


I flicked on the TV for background noise and tucked my feet under me, sitting cross-legged on the bed. I really needed to make a plan. I had to have somewhere to go tomorrow when I left this place. I could go practically anywhere and as freeing as it sounded, I was frozen. I had no ideas.


I pulled out an old phone book from the nightstand drawer and flipped to where there was a map of the United States. I was on the verge of closing my eyes and pointing randomly when there was a knock on the door. At the same time my phone started to buzz. I didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was Boston. I had nothing to say to anyone back there so I let it keep buzzing.


The pizza guy handed me the box and I gave him a twenty. My stomach growled as soon as I opened the box. Just as I took a huge bite, my phone started to buzz again. I looked and it was the same number. No one even knew I had this phone except Madden.


I almost choked on my pizza.


Was Madden calling me? Or worse yet, was it the hospital trying to tell me something had happened to him. I hated that I cared enough to answer the phone.


“Hello?” I answered with a shaky voice. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Tags: Ella London The Billionaire's Fake Finace Billionaire Romance
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