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Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Clarice
Getting out of theshower, I walked into the big, wonderful closet that was filled with the most beautiful clothes I’d ever seen, heading straight for the dress I so badly wanted to wear.
Boy, if Scarlett could see me now.
I would have called her and facetimed her while inside this closet right now if I knew she wasn’t having a fit about being with Keiran. Thinking back to when I spoke to her yesterday, she was clearly ready to murder him with her bare hands.
“I swear to God Reese, if he doesn’t stop hovering over me and telling me what to do, Creed is going to get his friend back without his balls! I hate him so much! He broke our window with Jared’s head when he put him through it. Does Creed know if he was taken to the hospital?”
“He said that he didn’t even know who it was in the house, but he said that he was knocked out in the living room but still alive.”
“Ya, well, he’d better be ok. Keiran paid for that shit he pulled with Jared after we left. I clocked him good upside the head in the car on the way to this prison, he’s locked me up in. Off of me now, and on to you, Damon must be freaking out about you disappearing on him. Have you heard from him?”
She thought she was pissed about Keiran’s behavior, but she hadn’t heard the way Damon had spoken to me yet. “Ya, about that. You wouldn’t believe the texts, and voicemails he sent me” I preceded to relay them to her, hearing her getting more and more pissed on the other end.
“What a fucking dick! I’m like in shock with how he spoke to you. Wait. Are you sure Creed or Keiran didn’t make that shit up and somehow text you from his phone?”
“I would say that was a possibility if it weren’t for the voicemails he left. It was his voice.”
“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t think of that. I’m just so shocked by his behavior. Goes to show you that you really just don’t know somebody. Current situation included. I am so sorry, Reese. I feel like all of this is my fault. If I hadn’t made you go to that club none of this would have ever happened, and you wouldn’t be mixed up with that asshole.”
“About that.”
“What about it.”
“First. None of this is your fault. It was my dumb ass that walked into the wrong door that night, interrupting their meeting, so don’t blame yourself.”
“That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t drug you there in the first place, though.”
“Scar, none of it matters anymore. I’m in love with him.”
“You are?’
