Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

“Don’t judge someone by how they look, judge them by how many people they’ve harmed.”

– Carisma Sechrest

JORDAN POV

“Ahhhhh…” 

Horrified screams and loud honking of horns rang through the night as I sprung out of the bushes, falling into the road. With a bone-jarring collusion, I landed on my knees against the roughness of the tar road, sending a spasm of pain into my cartilage and right through my stream.  People screamed, and I screamed back, only to raise my hands on instinct, showing that I was a very sane person despite my nakedness and my very bloody self. 

Flashes of cameras went by as people started taking photos. You could have sworn it was the Vanity Fair Red Carpet from how blinding they were. I hated it, and if I had the energy I would have flipped everyone a number, but I was busy concentrating on the dizzying stab of pain that resonated from a gaping hole on my right foot, with blood oozing from it and pooling under me.

“Phone.” I groaned, my vision getting blurry with every passing second.

Was I really going to die? Naked and in the middle of the street?

What a way to unalive.

“A phone. I need a phone.” With a breathy groan and snail-like movements, as I pulled myself up and carried my leg out of the road, I fell in front of the gawking on-lookers, wrenching more terrified screams and whispers.

Fuckin’ shoot me in the foot right now. 

Oh wait, somebody already did that for me.

“Somebody call 911.” Thank fuckin’ fuck one of them was in their right mind. 

“Oh my God. It’s Thomas’s son.” And just like that, all the attention was on ME, and all for the wrong reasons. Not that I was a naked man with my dick still half hard, with blood pouring from my foot.

Did she burst my artery?

“Phone.” I breathed out once again raising my hand, then winced as a wave of vertigo washed all over me, pulling on its tail a very blurred vision. 

Faintly, I heard someone barking in what I assumed had to be a phone, talking about ambulances. 

I was going to pass out. I could feel it. Consciousness was slowly slipping away from me as I grasped on the thin shards of reality and life around me.

And it was solely because that bitch busted my artery. She had to. That should explain the pool of blood I was suddenly lying in. Bearing in mind that I was still very much naked with nothing covering me. The towel I had exited the bathroom with before the lunatic went berserk and started shooting at me probably went flying when I jumped off the building, from the 28th floor. Thank God I knew there was a pool right beneath her window.

Or else I would have been a lovely stew mixed with the minerals and dirt of the ground. 

“Sir, can you hear me?” 

A flashing light suddenly shone in my right eye, causing me to pinch it shut.

“Yesss…” It was a very weak response. Slowly, I was levitating to the world of the unconscious, even though I was vaguely aware of everything around me. 

I felt it when they covered my unclothed body with some sheet, then strapped me onto the stretcher before hoisting me into the back of the ambulance.

“Sir you can’t come in.” People kept talking, a whole commotion probably gathered creating a white cacophony that sounded like a long buzz of gibberish.

“I am his friend. They called me here.” 

Quin.

Thank the universe he was here.

~~~

“The hell happened to you?” I could have sworn I made out intrigue and amusement in Quinton’s voice, even though his face was covered by a big frown as his gaze flitted to my foot that looked like Santa Clauses’ boots.

“Laura Alderman happened.” I groaned leaning into the bed. The room went still, making my neck to the crane so I could see his face.

“What?” He finally asked when he found his voice.

“Laura Fuckin’ Alderman shot me. In the foot.” the last sentence was so he could understand that he wasn’t hearing things.

“You’re shitting me.” Disbelief was marred on his face, and I wanted more than to trade positions with him. After all, the couch seemed to be far more comfortable than my foot which was suspended in the air, with my back lying against the cold hospital bed. The thin blanket seemed to provide anything but warmth.

“Laura from the Management department?” He arched a brow at him, and for a second there, I searched my subconscious for the answers. Because there was no way that girl shot me.

But then she did. I saw it with my own eyes. Except something about her had shifted fully. With a gun in her hand, she looked nothing like Laura Alderman who was a walking wet dream of every man alive at the Pacific States University campus.

Laura was the sweet girl, with a body of a porn star, fine caramel skin with thick curls that were so long they wrapped around my fist twice. Ask me how I know…

I was inside her a good heartbeat before she fuckin’ went kamikaze and planted a slag into my foot. The first one missed me. And something about the way she aimed at me told me it was just for a show. If she wanted, I’d be unalive right now.

“I was with her. You know I left with her at the party. You were there.” I fixed an accusing glare at him. But the shock on his face acted as the fool-proof vest,

“I know. That’s why none of this makes sense. Laura can’t know how to hold a gun, let alone use it.” Quin contradicted, his hands brought up in front of him like he was nailing the point. 

“Well she does, and she fuckin’ knows how to use it.” I drawled, itching to curse him. 

He merely let out a cackle before getting up and running his hands through his head, then stared at my foot.

“What time is it anyway?” I inquired staring ahead.

“3 am.” He nodded to the bedside table, and the red digital clock blinked at me as if it was mocking me. I groaned and threw my head back.

“And my dad?” I knew what he was going to say.

“He came while you were out. He was pissed.” His response was abrupt, but it said all I needed to know. 

“What about Mom?” 

“Your dad forced her to go back with him. Kory and Dan are our getting food.” It was so much like him. Controlling, demanding, and giving no shit about other people’s feelings,

But then again; nothing new

At least I still have relatives who were blood enough to empathize with me. I was a victim, but my dad was a dick focused on anything that was not his son who was naked and injured in the middle of the street.

“Yelena is flying in. She jumped on the next flight as soon as the pictures of your naked butt hit the internet.” 

Of course. And now the whole of California had a glorious idea of how the son of the great Thomas Rothschild looked like when naked. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned into the meme the next morning.

Thank you so fuckin’ much Laura Alderman.