"'Cause
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
I know what you're doin', trying to get me to pursue you
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
Spill my guts out, spill my guts out"
[SEASON ONE-FOUR]
sarah cameron x fem!oc
cover by @h...
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PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!! COMMENT AND VOTE!! IT HELPS US WRITES STAY MOTIVATED:) DONT JUST COMMENT PLEASE ALSO VOTE
STOP BEING A GHOST READER!! us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up but votes are not... its hard for my motivation!
if you see this chapter, since wattpad is glitching, just do me a favor and actually vote. the views aren't gonna be high because not many people are gonna get this, so please just vote.
Clara's heart pounded against her ribs, her breathing quick and uneven as she stood frozen in place, hands locked behind her head. She could feel the heat of the Bahamian night clinging to her skin, mixing with the cold sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Surrounding her were at least five cops, their expressions unreadable but their postures tense, ready for any sudden movement.
The flashing blue and red lights illuminated the scene in pulses, casting eerie shadows on the pavement. Clara's stomach twisted into knots as she fought the urge to run. Running now would only make things worse. She had to wait for an opening.
One of the officers had his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a calm but firm tone.
"She's Asian, female. Maybe fifteen or sixteen," he relayed, his sharp gaze flickering toward her as if confirming the details.
Clara's blood ran cold when she heard the voice on the other end of the call-low, commanding, and all too familiar. Ward Cameron.
"Was she in the house? She wasn't in the house, was she?" Ward demanded.
Clara clenched her teeth, inhaling sharply through her nose. If Ward figured out who she was, if he realized she was with Sarah-everything would fall apart. He would never let them go.
"Let me see her face," Ward ordered. "Put the camera on her face."
Clara's breath hitched. No, no, no. Her instincts kicked in, and she immediately lowered her head, letting her long, damp hair fall over her face. If they didn't get a clear look, if she could just keep her identity hidden-
A rough, calloused hand suddenly fisted into her hair and yanked her head back with brute force.
A sharp gasp tore from Clara's lips as pain shot through her scalp. She winced as her neck was forced upward, her face now exposed to the camera. Her dark eyes locked onto the screen for a fleeting second, her chest tightening as if a vice had wrapped around her ribs.
She couldn't see Ward's reaction, but she felt it. That split second of tension.
