Brooklyn Thorne had the perfect life. She was popular in school, well loved by her peers, had the perfect boyfriend and friend group, and was captain of the cheerleading squad. She was rich and had a stable family life who supported and loved her un...
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"Is that a cop?" One of Jameson's friend asked. I'm assuming he's one of his friends because he didn't stop Jameson from punching the guy.
I stood there frozen in fear. I realized that they probably couldn't see my face because I was standing in a dark spot where the street light was not illuminating.
I could probably make a run for it without being caught.
"Princess?" Jameson asked, moving closer to me to get a better view of my face. He squinted his eyes a little.
"Huh?" I whispered, still in shock by the situation that stood in front of me.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, sounding a little worried for me. He glanced back at the rest of his friends who wore confused expressions on their faces.
"I-I was at the coffee shop," I managed to stutter out.
He sighed. "You should go home," he responded, lightly pushing me out of the alleyway.
"What are you guys doing to that guy?" I asked, finally managing to find my voice.
"Nothing he didn't deserve," he muttered, pulling me by the arm to the main road. "Where's your car?"
"Oh my driver drove me here," I told him.
"Fucking hell," he muttered. "I'll drive you home."
"What about your friends?" I asked, gesturing to his friends and the short guy still standing in the alleyway.
"They can handle it," he assured me. "C'mon."
He said goodbye to his friends after telling them to update him on whatever happens. They assured him that they could take care of things and will text him when they're done.
"Why were you guys beating up the guy?" I asked, trying my luck again. Jameson was already walking towards the direction of his car and I had to jog to catch up with him.
"Do you always ask so many questions?" He asked, sounding extremely annoyed. He didn't seem out of breath at all after he was just beating up a guy. He must be really fit.
I shrugged. "I mean I don't think it's an absurd question to ask right now."
"He owes my friend money," he said simply. I knew not to keep pushing him on the topic because he already seemed tortured in telling me the little information he did.
Once we got to his old run down Toyota, he plopped into the driver's seat which caused me to roll my eyes and crossed my arm across my chest.
He rolled down the passenger side window before leaning over the center console. "You gonna get in?"
"Are you going to open the door for me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He snorted. "Get in."
"What a gentleman," I muttered before opening my own door and sliding in.
