Madeline

"Dad, I'm in jail. I need you to bail me out, please."

I had one phone call, and I had to make it count. I held the phone a good few inches away from my ear, because I knew my dad would be exploding in one second flat.

The police officer raised a brow and smirked as my dad's voice traveled the distance. He was telling me my fortune, and spoiler alert: it wasn't looking too good from where I was sitting right now.

When the worst of the storm eventually blew over at least a good minute later, I finally got a word in.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. But I need help, please."

I was the apple of my dad's eye. A first-born princess. Our relationship had always been solid, although he'd been extremely overprotective, and that was putting it mildly. Henry Archer Powers II was as intimidating as overzealous fathers got. An attorney-at-law who didn't take any bullshit, under any circumstances, from anyone, even more so when his only daughter was concerned.

"Don't say a word, Maddie; do you hear me? You have the right to remain silent. Exercise it! Don't answer any questions. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Dad," I said softly. Sighing as I felt a pang inside my chest because I knew I'd disappointed him.

I wasn't about to win any daughter of the year award. But the call had already disconnected before I'd finished my sentence, and I put the phone down with a sigh, nodding at the officer who wordlessly escorted me back to my cell.

I sat hunched over on the wooden bench. Thankfully, it must have been a quiet day for lady crims because I was there alone. I had no idea where my boyfriend, Travis, was being held, but I gathered they kept the male and female prisoners in separate cells.

Shit – I was a prisoner! How the hell did this happen to me? I was a straight-A college student, one semester away from graduating with what felt like an utterly useless degree in Marketing, majoring in Communications. Useless, because I wasn't sure that I'd ever use it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. And I wasn't a saint, but I wasn't a troublemaker either. I most certainly had no desire to go to a real prison with maximum security, electric fences, and orange jumpsuits. I had my entire future ahead of me, and didn't envisage spending it within the confines of a tiny cell, wearing a color that didn't go with my complexion. I was used to the finer things in life, and I wouldn't survive even half a day in there; I knew it.

I swallowed, my stress levels shooting through the roof. And right then, I made myself a promise. If I somehow got out of this situation unscathed, I'd make up for it. I'd be a model-daughter. Model-student. I'd dump Travis, and I won't date, ever again. Because look what kind of trouble he got me into right now. Perhaps I should look into nunneries. Monasteries? What did you call the places where nuns lived? Convents – that's right. I would look into joining a convent. Doing the good work of the Lord, and never get into any trouble, ever again. It would be penance for my sins.

But the next moment, I was jerked out of my rapidly spiraling thoughts by the sound of keys jangling against steel bars. I looked up, and the same police officer as earlier smirked at me.

"Pink, you're free to go. Daddy came to the rescue. Charges against you have been dropped."

I raised an eyebrow at him for calling me Pink. I had a name, and just because my hair currently sported bright pink highlights, weaved through my natural dark, didn't give him the right to call me names. But I bit my tongue because the last thing I wanted was more trouble today.

I walked out of the holding cell, feeling relief flooding through me. But then I thought of Travis, and I knew I couldn't just leave him here to fend for himself.

"My boyfriend... what about him?" I frowned at the officer.

"He'll have to come up with one hell of an explanation for driving a stolen car before the charges would be dropped against him," he said dryly. "But he's just been bailed out a few minutes before your dad arrived."

My mouth gaped open. Did Travis just leave me here? Knowing that I was innocent in all of this?

"He... he left?" I asked incredulously.

The police officer nodded, smirking at my apparent surprise.

"Have a good day, Miss Powers," he said as he opened a door with a swipe access card and motioned for me to walk through.

My dad was the first thing I saw as I enjoyed my new freedom.

He was pissed.

He raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and wore a frown the size of Russia when he saw me, although I didn't miss the flash of relief in his eyes, either.

"Maddie! Did they treat you well?" He looked me up and down, inspecting me for damage.

"I'm fine, thanks, Dad," I added with a sigh.

"Let's get your belongings and get out of here," he said impatiently, looking at his watch.

That made me feel even more guilty, because my dad was a very busy man who dealt with extremely famous clients at his law firm. I had a sneaking suspicion that this little misadventure of mine probably made him postpone a client meeting with someone a lot more important than moí, but then again, he always had his priorities straight.

Dad clenched his jaw and wordlessly watched as the officer handed me my purse. I checked that my phone and wallet were still inside, then nodded at him. And then, I did the walk of shame out of the police station. It felt as though every person on the street was staring at me. As though they knew that I'd just come out of jail, somehow.

My dad's Mercedes unlocked, and I got into the passenger side, keeping my eyes averted, waiting for the inevitable inter-lecture to follow. That was a portmanteau for interrogation and lecture, one of my dad's specialties. But to my surprise, Dad didn't say a word. He kept his eyes on the road, but his rigid posture told me that he was far from being cool with the idea of bailing his daughter out of jail.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway at our house. Yes, I was twenty-one and still lived with my parents. It wasn't out of choice, but rather because my dad was overprotective and wanted to keep the family together for as long as possible.

We made a deal that I could move out when I graduated, and as soon as I found a job. He'd pay the first month's rent and buy me furniture to get me started, too. But perhaps that was a smart move on his part because I was beginning to realize that finding a job straight out of college wouldn't be as easy as it sounded. I had zero work experience - also courtesy of my dad, who believed that I should focus on my studies instead of trying to make pennies on the side – his words, not mine.

I stole a glance at dad as I got out of the car and shut my door, and his eyes were dark and stormy as they struck me like lightning bolts.

"In my study, now," he gritted out the words, and I swallowed visibly, knowing that I was in deep trouble. Dad didn't usually talk to me like that. Actually – no one ever spoke to me like that.

As we approached the front door, it flew open. My sixteen-year-old brother, Archer – Archie for short – stood there with a giant smirk on his face and an expression of unabashed curiosity as he studied me.

"Hey, sis. How was jail?" he asked casually, and I narrowed my eyes at him. If he weren't careful, I'd do something to him that deserved real jail time, the little shit!

I gave him the middle finger, keeping my hand close to my body so Dad wouldn't see, and walked past, taking my scarf off and hanging it on the coat rack next to the front door. Then I made my way to Dad's study, dragging my feet a little. I wondered whether there was any chance whatsoever of a miracle, so I wouldn't have to endure the impending Henry Powers inter-lecture hanging over my head like the mythological sword of Damocles.

"Take a seat, please." That was Dad – always polite, even though he was clearly hugely unimpressed with me right now.

I nodded, sitting down and nervously wringing my hands inside my lap.

"I'm sorry...." I started, but dad interrupted me coolly before I could get another word out.

"Could you please explain to me in three sentences or less, why exactly you were a passenger inside a stolen car that was involved in a high-speed car chase today?"

Shit. Dad was really angry if he pulled the "three sentences or less" line. He only reserved that for the uttermost serious situations.

"Dad, I didn't know the car was stolen." I sighed, knowing that I didn't have a good explanation – or any explanation that would satisfy him. "I thought Travis bought a new car – I didn't know...."

"Travis." He spat out the word like it were poison, interrupting me again. "Did you know that the boy just left you at the police station?"

If dad could kill with those words, Travis would be dead right now.

I swallowed again and nodded. Feelings of shame and bitterness crept in, along with guilt and trepidation. He just left me. That said a lot about just how much he cared about me. And even though we'd only been together for a month, it was still a bitter pill to swallow, because it was the first relationship I'd had out of high school.

I still recalled vividly how my dad scared away Johnny Vane in senior year with threats of what he'd do to him if he harmed so much a hair on my head or got me pregnant. I'd been too scared to introduce Travis to my family – or, more specifically, my dad – for that very reason. But now, I was glad that things never got that far, because it seemed that I had terrible taste in men.

"The police officer told me that he'd left," I admitted softly, sorrow panging inside my heart.

"Travis is trouble," Dad said measuredly. "Travis is a persona non-grata in this household from now onward."

"English, please," I sighed, knowing that dad was speaking Latin. It was a special talent that law school bestowed, apparently.

"Travis Williams will not set his foot inside this house - ever. Or anywhere near you, for that matter. Are we clear?" He raised an angry eyebrow, demanding full compliance.

Although I wanted answers, the truth was, part of me never wanted to see Travis again either. He lied to me. Betrayed me. And then just left me at the police station to fend for myself. That hardly made him boyfriend material. But the other part of me wanted to believe that he had a good reason for doing what he did. That he was somehow innocent in all this, too, just like I had been. But the rational part of my brain was telling the hopeful part that it was an utter fool even to think that way for a second.

"Dad, I need to talk to him," I said softly. "I need to find out exactly what happened. I need answers, too."

I knew that pleading would work better than playing hardball because Dad always came out on top when we were playing that game.

Dad looked like a bundle of dynamite – his fuse lit, dangerously close to burning right the hell to the ground and wreaking anarchy all around him.

"That's not how this is going to work," he laid down the law. "As long as you're under my roof, you live by my rules."

I had to really hold myself back from rolling my eyes a little. It wasn't as though I had any choice in the matter. He refused to let me get a job while I was studying, which meant that I had no choice but to live under his roof. It was a catch twenty-two if ever there had been one.

Dad's phone rang, and he frowned, looking at the screen. He held up an index finger at me.

"It's your mom. She's worried sick about you. You are causing your mother heartache, Maddie. Wait right here."

I sighed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. Feeling a mixture of exhausted and sad that I'd ended up here, because I didn't go asking for trouble.

"Edie, yes, we're back at home. She's fine."

Dad's eyes burned on me like lasers while Mom said something on the other end.

"She says she didn't know. I believe her. That fucking..." Dad cleared his throat and looked at me guiltily before he continued, cleaning up his language for my benefit. Little did he know that his not-so-little princess learned from the best. Even though I never swore in front of my parents, I had the vocabulary of a drunken sailor when provoked.

"That little dipshit just left her at the station after one of his cronies bailed him out. I swear, I will kill him with my bare hands if he has the unfortunate luck to ever run into me."

Dad cracked his knuckles, and I bit my bottom lip in a mixture of nerves and amusement, because somehow, I'd always found it slightly amusing when Dad got really worked up about things. He could get very passionate when he cared deeply, which I supposed was a good character trait for an attorney-at-law to possess.

"They've dropped the charges against her. I interrogated the hell out of them, until they folded and admitted that they had nothing on her – she wasn't driving the car."

Dad looked at me as though he was trying to read my mind. Unfortunately for him, I didn't have the answers he was looking for in there, either.

"She's fine. She's grounded for the next year, and she's not dating again in the next decade – at least." Dad looked kind of satisfied with that state of affairs. But clearly, he was forgetting that I was twenty-one and an adult.

I stood up, close to reaching my limit here. Sick of being treated like an errant child. Granted, I hadn't displayed the best judgment in the dating department lately, but I was still getting to know Travis after we met at a club the night of my twenty-first birthday a month ago. How was I supposed to know that he could drive a stolen vehicle like an out-of-control maniac when the occasion called for it, based on four weeks of dating alone?

"Sit down," Dad fired at me, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, and I looked away to roll my eyes, then sat down again, waiting for him to finish his phone call.

"I'll be back at the office in about twenty minutes. I'll tell her. Love you."

He smiled slightly as he disconnected the call and placed the phone on his desk. But that hint of warmth disappeared as soon as he looked at me again.

"Maddie, this situation could have turned extremely serious. You could've died if there were a crash. You could have had to stand trial in a court of law. As it is, you'll probably be called to testify as a witness. You could have ended up with a criminal record over this."

"I know, Dad," I admitted with defeat, knowing he was right. But I had no idea that Travis had been driving a stolen car. I had no idea about any of it, until a police officer tried to flag us down, and Travis started spewing a string of profanities, then sped up, evading the law.

We ended up in a high-speed car chase that was probably all over the news right now – I was too damn scared even to look.

My heart pounded in my throat as we'd nearly avoided collision after collision, almost crashing into a concrete pillar supporting an overpass. I kept yelling at him, asking him what the hell was going on, but he refused to answer me. Until finally, Travis was forced to pull over as four police cars with ear-piercingly loud sirens surrounded us from all sides.

Travis and I were supposed to be heading away together for the first time for the weekend. But instead of a romantic getaway, the episode ended with both of us being led away in handcuffs and unceremoniously shoved inside the back of a police van. I'd never, ever been so scared and ashamed in my entire life. And I never thought I would ever have to call my dad, telling him that he needed to bail me out. Not to mention that the story I'd told my parents for this getaway was that I was heading on a girls' weekend with my best friend.

"You'll have to give a statement to the police; you're a witness. I've negotiated a time tomorrow morning – I'll go with you, of course."

I nodded, swallowing nervously at the mere thought of having to go back to the police station, where they deprived me of my liberty.

"I have to get to the office – I have a mediation that I can't postpone. But we'll talk about this some more tonight. You're not leaving the house today, and you're forbidden from initiating or accepting contact from Travis Williams, is that clear?" He clenched his jaw, and his tone told me it was a purely rhetorical question.

"Yes, Dad," I said just above a whisper, feeling my bottom lip quiver a little now that the shock was starting to wear off a little.

"It's called collusion if a witness and an accused work together to corroborate their stories. You can get into serious trouble if you talk to Travis about the whole thing, do you understand?" He furrowed his brows, impressing the seriousness of the situation I found myself in.

"I... I'm not allowed to talk to him even over the phone?" I gasped, despite agreeing not to do so earlier. Because, let's face it, I was stubborn, and I wanted an explanation for Travis not only driving a stolen car, but also just leaving me in a cell at the police station.

"Not unless you want to see the inside of a prison cell – a real prison this time, not just a holding cell at the police station," he cautioned gravely.

"Okay, I understand," I murmured, feeling overwhelmed and a little sorrowful over my unexpected break-up.

"I love you, Maddie, but I'm disappointed," Dad said as he stood up, and that made me feel like utter shit. I could handle anger. But disappointment was a whole next level that I'd hoped never to steep to in my entire life.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, feeling so damn defeated and sad.

"I'm disappointed that you tried to sneak away like a thief, to spend the weekend with... some guy, while leaving us under the impression that you were going to spend the weekend with Veronica. I'm even more disappointed that you choose to associate with people of his caliber and that you could have thrown your entire future away over a guy who doesn't deserve you."

Dad's phone started ringing, saving me from having to try to find words to explain the situation, when I had none.

"Mayhem. How's the family?" he asked my uncle as something other than a frown finally appeared on his face. But that smile lasted briefly, and disappeared completely as dad's gaze found mine again.

"She's fine – she's home now. It made the news, did it?" He dropped his head into his hand, and I wanted to die of embarrassment and shame, because I'd humiliated myself and my family. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."

I didn't know how the hell I'd ever be able to show my face in public again. How I'd face my friends, family, and fellow students at university. How I'd ever get a job, even, after this. And it was probably a good thing that I had no idea right then that another bombshell was about to be dropped on me just later that night...