NINETY

Prince

Andrew ends up in the hospital. And I end up spending the night at the police station.

That bastard is fucking lucky that I didn’t kill him, because before I could do so, three policemen came to stop me. I remember roaring like a mad person when they pulled me away from Andrew, who was already bleeding to death when the emergency response team from the hospital took him with the stretcher.

My hands shaking, I look down and bury my face in them. What the hell am I doing here? I shouldn’t be here right now. I should be with her.

Cheska. Cheska. Cheska.

She’s the only thing in my mind now. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling at the moment. She must be scared, not knowing that to do. She must be broken. Hopeless. Alone.

To settle the matters with the police, I’ve called my lawyer, whom I know from a friend I worked with for one of the influential companies I did my project with. He’s good, so I expect that the police can give me some dispensation once they find out that Andrew