My feet are killing me. But I don’t care. Jake Jones has played me for a fool. One minute, he’s intense and solely focused on me, and the next, he’s kissing a done up gold-digging tramp. Who is she? No amount of makeup can conceal the fact that she’s in her thirties. And nothing can hide the fact that she wanted me to know that she and Jake are together. How could Jake be so distant with all of us but allow the girl to run her fingers through his hair? I’m walking down the street now, my feet screaming when I notice that it’s a little bit brighter than it should be. Oh no, the paparazzi is descending. With Senator Jones running for governor, people are starting to take notice of his family, especially since they are close to the Philips family. Since I got shot, the media has been trying to reach out to me. I’ve spent the last six weeks refusing to comment. Tabloids have also been printing stories about our family, thanks to the scandal involving my Uncle Ian and twenty-seven prostitutes. The gossip about me was starting to die down until Brent Harris accepted a few interviews. Now, everyone wants to know my reaction. I don’t care that a lunatic claims that we kept Chelsea from him and the kidnapping was all one big misunderstanding. I nearly choked on my coffee when Brent told the reporters that he had only kidnapped Chelsea because she got off on that sort of thing. As the flashes light up the sky, and I’m being photographed, Jake’s Lincoln pulls out of the parking lot and heads in my direction. I’m not going to deal with someone accusing me of being unreasonable. He kissed me, then kissed someone else. What does he even see in that blonde anyways? She’s so fake. It’s clear that she is only interested in one thing. It’s… I’m on the ground in shock. At first, I’m unsure of what landed me flat on my face. But the shock fades and the pain encumbers me. I sit up and feel scrapes on my arms and cheek. This is one of those awful falls. My left ankle hurts. I gingerly touch it and wince. It’s already swelling.
“Carmen. Darling, don’t move,” Jake orders as he rushes toward me. He called me darling. That’s a shock. I want to ask him why he has called me something so sweet, but before I can ask, I’m swept up into his warm arms. My hands are scraped, but I lift them and trace his face.
“Jake, you kissed her,” I say softly. His eyes are on mine, and his gaze is tender.
“No, she kissed me,” he corrects as if that means something. He carries me to the car and puts me down in the back seat. To my surprise, he climbs in beside me and shuts the door. I’m suddenly shivering from the cold, and the aches and pains are getting to me.
“Jake, you need to drive,” I remind him. He chuckles to himself and gets into the front seat and slowly pulls out into the street.