Ninety-six

"I'm sorry, Cassie,” he said, getting into the car with me when he realized my mind was made up about leaving. “Please…”

“Just drive!” I snapped. I was more annoyed at my father for his scheming than I was at Davis, but there was no way I would tell him that.

I was so angry, I wanted to jump out of the car just so I wouldn’t remain in the same space with him. But I had to return home somehow. His closeness made my blood boil and the more he kept trying to talk to me and steal glances at me, the angrier I became.

To be honest, I had expected worse. What he had done was messed up, but the picture my father had painted of him was way worse than what he had just told me. If what he confessed was what was truly in the contract, then why had my father been so hell-bent on giving me the contract to read when he knew his part in the whole matter would only make me hate him more? None of it made any sense.

Unless Davis had just bent the truth to make himself look less bad.

But why would he