Page 111
Story: Fake for 7 days
"You... you... you miserable... pig!" I could barely find words. The vein on my temple had suddenly swollen, and I felt my face turning red.
"Carter!" Don put a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't helping now. We need to find Isabella."
Isabella.
The sound of her name brought me somewhat back to my senses.
Don was right about one thing. This wasn't helping anymore. What had happened, had happened. I turned my back on Cameron and wordlessly left the pub. Don followed me.
"Why should we look for her?" I snapped grumpily, without looking at Don. "Cameron and Abigail might have lied to her, but that still doesn't change the fact that she got involved with this Owen again! Or had something going on with him the whole time. She's been stringing me along."
"Oh, really?" Don put a hand on my shoulder and forced me to turn around. "Think about it, Carter."
"There's nothing to think about." My answer was short and definitive.
Don wasn't deterred. "If Isabella really cheated on you and you mean nothing to her, why would she have gotten so upset about Abigail's words? Wouldn't she have reacted completely differently in that case?"
I stared at Don in the dim light.
Wouldn't Isabella have reacted completely differently?
The answer came quickly. I liked it. And also didn't.
She would have reacted damn differently, Carter. Above all, she would have insisted that you transfer her the $50,000. She definitely would have.
Instead, I had never heard from Isabella again.
I could only think one thing.
Cameron had lied to Isabella. He had wedged himself between us.
And I had insulted her, humiliated her in front of my family, and sent her away.
Unjustly?
That suddenly seemed quite likely to me.
My heart was pounding harder than it had in a long time.
Chapter 30 ~ Carter ~
"Can'tyoudriveanyfaster?" I nervously shifted back and forth on the leather-covered passenger seat of my red Ferrari. It was already dark, and we were driving as fast as we could from Long Island towards Manhattan. But as fast as it was, it still wasn't fast enough for me.
After I had given Cameron the punch he deserved in the pub, I had felt like I needed a pick-me-up and had downed my still untouched whiskey in one go. Luckily, I could handle alcohol much better than my brother. I had immediately grabbed Don, and we had set off for home as quickly as possible. However, Don had insisted on taking the wheel. He said I was too worked up.
"No, I can't drive any faster here. There are regular police checks in this area. You know that yourself, Carter. If they pull us over for speeding, it'll take even longer to get to Manhattan. This way we might not be particularly fast, but at least we'll get home instead of sitting in some police station for reckless driving."
Don's argument was logical. Nevertheless, I would have liked to have my own foot on the gas pedal, pressing it to the floor. I wanted to go home.
I wanted to see Isabella.
For weeks, I had suppressed every thought of her as much as possible. I had told myself that I had forgotten her as soon as she left my parents' property. I had convinced myself that I didn't miss her and never wanted to see her again anyway. All I needed was a little distraction. Another woman.
I had told myself all this so often that I had almost believed it myself. I had forgotten Isabella. But with Cameron's confession and especially with Don's question, all the repressed feelings had surfaced again. Isabella had meant a lot to me.
Had?
She means a lot to me.
"Carter!" Don put a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't helping now. We need to find Isabella."
Isabella.
The sound of her name brought me somewhat back to my senses.
Don was right about one thing. This wasn't helping anymore. What had happened, had happened. I turned my back on Cameron and wordlessly left the pub. Don followed me.
"Why should we look for her?" I snapped grumpily, without looking at Don. "Cameron and Abigail might have lied to her, but that still doesn't change the fact that she got involved with this Owen again! Or had something going on with him the whole time. She's been stringing me along."
"Oh, really?" Don put a hand on my shoulder and forced me to turn around. "Think about it, Carter."
"There's nothing to think about." My answer was short and definitive.
Don wasn't deterred. "If Isabella really cheated on you and you mean nothing to her, why would she have gotten so upset about Abigail's words? Wouldn't she have reacted completely differently in that case?"
I stared at Don in the dim light.
Wouldn't Isabella have reacted completely differently?
The answer came quickly. I liked it. And also didn't.
She would have reacted damn differently, Carter. Above all, she would have insisted that you transfer her the $50,000. She definitely would have.
Instead, I had never heard from Isabella again.
I could only think one thing.
Cameron had lied to Isabella. He had wedged himself between us.
And I had insulted her, humiliated her in front of my family, and sent her away.
Unjustly?
That suddenly seemed quite likely to me.
My heart was pounding harder than it had in a long time.
Chapter 30 ~ Carter ~
"Can'tyoudriveanyfaster?" I nervously shifted back and forth on the leather-covered passenger seat of my red Ferrari. It was already dark, and we were driving as fast as we could from Long Island towards Manhattan. But as fast as it was, it still wasn't fast enough for me.
After I had given Cameron the punch he deserved in the pub, I had felt like I needed a pick-me-up and had downed my still untouched whiskey in one go. Luckily, I could handle alcohol much better than my brother. I had immediately grabbed Don, and we had set off for home as quickly as possible. However, Don had insisted on taking the wheel. He said I was too worked up.
"No, I can't drive any faster here. There are regular police checks in this area. You know that yourself, Carter. If they pull us over for speeding, it'll take even longer to get to Manhattan. This way we might not be particularly fast, but at least we'll get home instead of sitting in some police station for reckless driving."
Don's argument was logical. Nevertheless, I would have liked to have my own foot on the gas pedal, pressing it to the floor. I wanted to go home.
I wanted to see Isabella.
For weeks, I had suppressed every thought of her as much as possible. I had told myself that I had forgotten her as soon as she left my parents' property. I had convinced myself that I didn't miss her and never wanted to see her again anyway. All I needed was a little distraction. Another woman.
I had told myself all this so often that I had almost believed it myself. I had forgotten Isabella. But with Cameron's confession and especially with Don's question, all the repressed feelings had surfaced again. Isabella had meant a lot to me.
Had?
She means a lot to me.
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