“Oh my God.” That was, like, the five hundredth time she had said that. Five minutes ago.
Seriously, I wanted to freak out, too, and I was sort of doing it, but, like, silently. Besides, the only thing her screams and tantrums did now was to give me a headache.
"This is all your fault!" Brittany spat when she caught me looking at her.
If I didn’t feel so tired, I would have laughed. The shiner I gave Brittany was complemented by her white eyeliner, giving her a Glittery Panda Goddess look. Seeing it made me touch the slash she left on the edge of my face, near my left ear, and I winced in pain because the wound was still fresh.
“Let me out of this f**king hellhole!”
God! Did she, like, have to cuss all the time? Why couldn’t everyone just turn into a ditz like I did when I was stressed out? It was, like, so much calmer – and easier on the ears.
“Oh my God.” That made, what, 501 times for Brittany?
“Yan-na.”
“Oh my God.” That was me, though.
What was Alyx doing here?
“Hello, my beautiful peace-loving friend.” Laughter tinged Alyx's voice.
I covered my face with my hands. “Shut up.” I suddenly felt sick and miserable, absolutely shamed at how I had gone literally crazy earlier. With my eyes squeezed shut, all I could see was how security had to drag the three of us out – me and the blond bimbos – and straight into the backseat of a police car that was conveniently waiting outside on standby, in case shit like what had happened would happen.
Marge had started to argue with the security, but I pleaded her not to – or at least I hazily recalled somewhat doing so. I hadn't wanted her to get involved and increase the chances that the stuff the B-squares - that was, like, totally what I was going to call them from now on – said about her would leak to the press.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Alyx told me even though I still wasn’t looking at her.
She wasn’t the only one. I just wasn’t raised that way. I had never gotten into a fight in my entire life. And before this humiliating fiasco, the closest I got to it was the subtle exchange of digs I’d have with Arian at work, which was totally lame since the best ‘dig’ I could do was make faces behind her back.
“What are you going to say to your Mom when she hears about this?”
My head jerked up at that. “Don’t tell her.” My life would be over if Carole knew I had been behind bars. Since I was their only child – and my mom only had me when she was almost forty – my parents were nearly fanatical about my safety.
“Visitors for Yanna Everleigh,” the policeman stationed by the main door boomed.
Alyx raised an eyebrow at me, saying musingly as she turned around, “This is interesting. As far as I know, you can’t have more than one visitor at a time.”
“Yanna?”
“Mr. Fix-It,” Alyx gasped.
Gasping as well, I caught a glimpse of Drake’s tall form walking swiftly towards me. He was still dressed in his tux, and against the sterile background of the prison cells, he looked like an angel flying in to rescue me. I quickly looked down before his eyes could meet mine. What was he doing here?
“Yanna?”
My head jerked up, and my neck started to ache with all the sudden up-down movements I was doing with my head. “Mrs. Kastein?” What was she doing here, too?
The main doors burst open. “Where is she?”
I bent my head back down again.
What took him so long?
Seated on the opposite bench, Brittany’s mother – Beatrice – shrieked, “Where are my visitors, ass**le?” She sounded drunk even though her test results were negative. Apparently, decades-old envy could have that effect on some people.
“Constantijin, oh, thank God, you’re here, darling!” Brittany flew to my side of the bars, pushing me out of her way as she did. “It’s all this bitch’s fault! She attacked my mother---”
“I will give you three f**king seconds to get out of my face---”
"Y-you don't mean that!"
"---before I have my lawyers take you to court and sentence you and your mother for life imprisonment." There was a moment of silence.
"Aaaaawkward,” Alyx said gleefully.
Brittany burst out, “Are you insane? She was the one who attacked my mother first!”
“One.”
“Is this f**king for real? You’re going to choose this lowlife nobody---”
Constantijin’s voice became colder. “Two.”
“Fuck you!” But she was already stalking away even as she spat the words out.
“Yanna?” His voice was very gentle.
I shook my head.
“Please look at me, sweetheart. My lawyers already have everything under control. You’ll be out in minutes.” When I still didn’t move or say a word, he said even more softly, “Please, Yanna, for me?”
God! He already knew how to manipulate me so well. It was scary to think how he could be even more manipulative once he found out I was in love with him, too. I looked up.
Constantijin stood before me, minus his blazer, and a half of his long-sleeved white polo tucked in his jeans while the other half was left hanging. His beautiful hair was roughed up, not at all sleekly arranged like I had glimpsed it earlier tonight.
Tension was sketched on his face, but his silver eyes were brighter than I had ever seen them, with just too many emotions swirling in his gaze that I couldn’t make sense of them.
I bit my lip hard to stop it from trembling. All I could think was I should have handled it better. Constantijin had wanted me to make a good first impression as his girlfriend but thanks to my outburst, everyone would think he was dating a gangster.
“I’m sorry.”
I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out to me, slipping his hand between the bars.
Slowly, I placed my hand in his and he pulled me carefully towards him. His other hand slipped between the bars as I came close, and I could see it trembling when he touched my face.
I couldn’t stop myself from wincing when his fingers came in contact with the wound on my face. When Constantijin abruptly drew his hand back, I said quickly, “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Don’t lie,” he bit out.
We stared at each other, everything and everyone around us fading. I found myself unable to breathe when I realized how much he was holding back. Then he said with heartbreaking simplicity that had me sobbing the next moment, “Thank you for defending my mother and me.”