Chapter 7

Sandra gave Lucas a contemptuous look. "Honestly, even a pet dog would've shown Chels more gratitude for everything she's done in the past three years. If not for her taking such good care of you, how could you possibly have regained your vision?

"You're a heartless bastard! Now, get lost. Chels doesn't wanna see you."

Lucas didn't get angry after being scolded by Sandra. He merely looked at Chelsey, who clung to Sandra weakly. She'd never had alcohol before, yet she'd had so much to drink during her first time. Her head spun and felt like it was made of mush.

"I'll take her home." Lucas bent down slightly to lift Chelsey into his arms. He turned and strode off.

"We don't need you for that. I'll take her!"

Sandra hurried after them but was stopped by Lucas' bodyguards. She stomped her foot angrily and cried anxiously, "If you dare do anything to harm Chelsey, I'll kill you, Lucas! Don't you dare bully her or break her heart!"

Lucas brought Chelsey to his Bentley, which was parked by the side of the road. He bent down to put her down inside before getting in from the other side.

He had just shut the door when Chelsey leaned against his shoulder. "Sandra … when did you get so strong? You're amazing … amazing!"

She was so out of it that she thought Lucas was Sandra. He reached out to push her away. She lost her balance and toppled in the other direction, knocking her head against the window with a loud thump.

"Ouch …" Chelsey rubbed her head while looking up. She stared at Lucas blearily.

Then, she blinked and muttered in confusion, "Where did Sandra find you from? You look just like Lucas."

She thought he was a surprise Sandra had prepared for her. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn't get a clear glimpse of the man before her.

Chelsey stared at Lucas for a while longer before suddenly chortling. "You can be my little boy toy from now on; I have plenty of money to spend on you … I'll treat you well as long as you listen to me …

"That bastard Lucas needs to fuck off out of my life. I won't be at his beck and call anymore! Who does he think he is? There's plenty of fish in the sea, and I couldn't care less about him …"

She burped. Lucas frowned in disgust. He wanted to push her away, then recalled how she'd knocked her head against the window when he last did that. He lowered his hand and said irritably, "You're a terrible drunk!"

All he did when he was drunk was sleep like a log.

The alcohol was getting to Chelsey; she could no longer sit up straight. She collapsed onto Lucas' lap, her head landing right between his legs. Even through the fabric of his pants, he could feel her hot breath fanning over him.

Damn, it was burning.

Lucas' face turned dark. He grabbed Chelsey by the arm and dragged her up. "Sit up straight, Chelsey!"

Chelsey wobbled and wavered in her seat. She couldn't sit up straight at all, and she felt horrible. It felt like there was a tornado in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came up was vomit.

It went all over Lucas, of course.

"Chelsey Jenson!" Lucas roared. He looked positively murderous now.

Chelsey had no idea what she'd done. She covered her face with her hands and leaned against the window, crying as she spat, "Lucas Yates, you're a bastard. A bastard, a jerk, a scumbag … mostly a scumbag …"

Lucas' rage subsided a lot when he heard he was the cause of all this.

The car stank with the smell of alcohol. He rolled down the window to make it dissipate a little. Then, he took his suit jacket off, rolled it up, and flung it at his feet. After that, he wiped whatever he could of Chelsey's vomit on him away with a wet wipe.

As Lucas looked at the drunk Chelsey, he recalled how he'd drowned his sorrows with liquor three years ago when he'd just lost his vision.

Chelsey was the one who'd cared for him without complaint and encouraged him. It had given him the hope to live again.

As the memories flooded his mind, he sighed imperceptibly.

Chelsey's and Shannon's voices were almost identical. In his mind, he'd imagined the former to look like the latter.