There's a loud buzzing coming from the side of my head and I groaned as I tried to make it stop. When it was clear that no amount of swatting would help, I groaned loudly before finally opening my eyes.

Yanking my phone from on the bed beside me, I angrily answered, trying my best to get rid of the person on the other end of the line.

"Dude! You saw the news?"

"Huh? What?"

"The fucking news man? What are you doing? Its 5 in the afternoon."

"I-"

"It doesn't matter. Stop whatever you're doing and go turn on your tv, now!"

Sighing, I reluctantly listened to my twin as I lazily dragged my ass to the living room and turned on my tv.

"Which channel?" I started groggily but stopped as I saw a clip of Jon being escorted out of what I assumed to be his place, in handcuffs; two of the cops from earlier trying and failing to stop the many reporters and cameramen from getting too close to him.

The clip stopped and once again a woman is sat talking to the screen.

Ignoring my brother as he shouted something I'm yet to hear, I grabbed the remote from off the couch and turned up the tv.

-arrested this morning in connection with the murder of his father, Richard Crawford who was rushed to the hospital on April 4th after being shot in his Manison.

The circumstances surrounding the shooting is unclear with detectives being quiet about the details but we will have more as this story develops.

My name is Natasha Lewis and you were watching-

I hurriedly switched the channel as that one came to an end and stopped at another news segment that was talking about him.

Breaking news! Billionaire Richard Crawford died just a few hours ago after undergoing another surgery in an attempt to save his life after his son Jon Crawford rushed him to the hospital with a gunshot wound.

Reports coming in says that Jon was arrested shortly after his death since he was the only person that could clarify what took place that fateful night.

Sandy is at the station where he is being taken to at this time; Sandy, tell us what's going on.

This can't be happening. This definitely can't be happening.

He was with me less than 24 hours ago and now he's getting arrested for his dad's murder.

I stopped trying to internalize everything as my mind settled on that final statement.

His dad is dead.

My boss, is dead.

Somehow, everything seemed to become so clear and I felt sick to my stomach. Jon shot his dad and now he's dead.

At that revelation, my stomach decided that its contents would be better on my floor than inside of me.

With one quick dash, I ran to my bathroom and threw up as visions of him above and beneath me haunted my subconscious.

Fuck! I whispered. Fuck.

Washing my mouth, I grabbed my wallet and jacket before heading out. The nearest bar was an old run down establishment that only bikers and homeless people frequented but I was in no shape to drive and I needed to have some sort of amnesia brought on by the copious amount of alcohol I needed to drink.

"A glass of your strongest." I ordered, sitting on the stool and trying my damndest not to overthink things.

Did I really sleep with a murderer?

Did I seriously sleep with a man capable of killing his own father?!

As I drained my first glass my mind went back to that Monday morning after he bailed me out from jail. I remembered him telling me something about my dad taking care of me for him after seeing the hickies on my neck.

Did that mean he had an abusive side to him that no one knew?

Everyone heard them arguing together many times but who doesn't get upset with their folks?

Groaning, I placed the umpteenth glass of dark liquid to my lips as I tried to drown the visions of the man I knew for less than a year and the memories of him pleading for me.

"You look like you're trying to drink away your mistakes." Some random guy says to me and I raise my head to see a buffed up biker sitting on the stool nearest to me.

"That's the plan." I slurred, my eyes shutting on their own as I tried to force them back open.

"You okay?"

I tried to focus on him in my state but all I could gather was the sound of his deep African voice and his black eyes.

"Your voice makes my skin crawl." I slurred again, resting my head on the bar top and looking at him.

"That sounds like an insult but I'll just take it as a compliment."

"No! I meant it as a compliment, I've never heard that accent before."

"Originally from South Aftica."

"Ah."

I tried to smile at him but I didn't know if I actually succeeded in doing so or just looked like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" He asks as I place another glass of alcohol to my lips.

"I probably have." I started as I lowered the glass for just a second. "But I am trying to drown my problems away."

"And what about tomorrow?"

"What about tomorrow?"

"Your problems will still be there but you'll also get one bitch of a hangover."

Sighing, I let the glass clink against the bar top as I placed it down and didn't miss the satisfied smirk on the stranger's face.

"Do you need me to take you home?"

"I'd rather not. I have this bad habit of sleeping with people I've never met before and my boyfriend..."

"I only offered to take you home. I didn't-"

"Can you call me a cab? I don't feel so hot."

That was the last thing I remembered before my world spun and got consumed by darkness.

A/N

So guess who went out the other night (almost 3 weeks ago) and partied so hard she ended up in a hospital.

That's right, me.

🤷🏾‍♀️ oh well.

Finally felt good enough to write, so, enjoy.

I feel like all my chapters are lame cause I'm so bored with the book...

🙈🙈🙈

Only a few more chapters to go so please bear with me.