125. Crossfire

125.

David's POV.

All evening I've been tense, worried sick to my bones. The event, my problems with Vera, the viral pictures of me and Claire, and how to make things work out between Vera and I all race through my head, I nearly lost it.

While the guests were coming into the ballroom, I move away, wanting somewhere quiet to get my shit together.

I can't stop worrying about her. Vera.

I fucking want to know if she's going to come over but calling her on the phone will be a dead end because she won't ever respond to the call.

Secluded in one of the hotel rooms upstairs, I undo some of my buttons after removing my suit Jacket, cracking the bones of my neck.

I make sure I come up here with a bottle of whiskey and I quickly uncork it and begin to drink directly from the bottle.

I don't know what to think again. What to feel, so I let all sorts of emotions swing through me, emotions I can't define.

Amidst all, that tiny voice in my head keeps telling me Claire knows something. Fu