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Chapter 7: Rabbit Hole.
Maybe I should impulsively jump off yachts more often was the first thing that popped in my head when I saw Theo pushing his way to get to me. He looked delicious in his tight casual suit, moving people out of his way to get closer to me, of course, Ken was right behind him but my eyes didn't leave his cornflower blues.
Maybe I shouldn't impulsively jump off yachts more often was the second thought that popped in my head when I saw Faye next to me, trying to get to me. She looked livid, like she was two seconds away from punching me halfway through a coma.
Faye hated when I get myself hurt and involved in things that might get me hurt because I did it often. I never think before helping out someone and that puts me in danger more often than not.
But we compromised, she had the impulsive spending and buying and I get the impulsive throwing myself into an unknown peril to help someone.
Except right now, with me drenched and quivering, scratched the hell up, bleeding from the neck, she wasn't thinking about the compromise. She was ready to kill me. She is forever overprotective of me which is funny because I'm physically the strongest and the brawler of our duo.
"What the hell were thinking, Vee?!" she whisper-yells.
"I don't know—"
"Exactly." she grits out, "You never do! What if you've fucking died or worse: had gotten hurt?"
"I think you got that backwards." Theo comments from behind her and she doesn't even spare him a glance. Oh, I'm in trouble.
"No, it would be ch-cheaper if I d-died." I answer stuttering from the cold, "We did the m-math."
Theo immediately takes off his jacket and puts it on my towel-covered shoulders. I back away when I felt the fabric, "I'll ruin it." I warned.
"No, you won't." he disagrees adjusting it over me, "It doesn't matter even if you did." he takes his silk scarf and rumples it on my wound that keeps bleeding into my cleavage in hopes to stop it by putting pressure on it.
