Chapter Twenty Seven - Scarlett
He sees me approaching and slows.
“I know what I said wasn’t right about Justin and the photo, and I know I’ve hidden my family name but—“ he starts rambling, desperate to state his case. All that crap seems trivial now. Knowing what I know about the accident.
“What about the accident?” I probe standing my ground and cutting him off from whatever poor pitiful excuse he was about to give me. Right now I could give two fucks about what his real last name is.
He stiffens, fumbling the ball from his hands “Scarlett—”
“Don’t lie to me. Please. Not after everything. I think if not now more than ever I deserve some truth.”
A long silence stretches between us.
And then he says, quietly,
“So you did talk to Caleb then.”
“I did, learnt a lot from Google too, more than my so called boy—.” I cut myself off because what even are we “well whatever we are doing.”
He nods once. “I figured.”
I step closer. “Is it true?”
His jaw clenches. “Yes. But not all of it.”
I huff a sigh “so you didn’t smash into a tree with his girlfriend in the car, because you were on drugs and you didn’t get away Scott free because you’re a Kingsley and she didn’t die a week later?
” Man I sound like a bitch, but enough is enough.
I want the truth now. No beating around it just tell me so I can move on.
Then I’ll clean up whatever PR nightmare looms in the distance—the very short distance after today—and could potentially ruin the business I’m building from the ground up.
I shouldn’t be surprised the man who left me a post it note after a night of bearing our souls would act this way, it’s my own fault really.